Apollo swallowed nervously at the pause of the other, shuffling his feet nervously. “U-um… can I..?” He stretched for it, hastily taking it from the other’s clearly mechanical hands. He shuffled back from the other, his hands tightening their grip on the strap of the cloth bag.
“I’m-I’m going to go now!” He exclaimed, turning away and starting to shuffle off.
Wait. He couldn't just…leave like that. His blood had been…black. Callie's own was a lightish red, but…he'd never even heard of anyone with…black blood. Without thinking about exactly what he was going to do, he reached out to put his hand to the boy's shoulder, stopping him.
Apollo barely didn’t stop at the hand stopping his motion. Though he paused anyway, swallowing slowly and shuffling his feet once more. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed a little.
“Why… why did you stop me?”
Callie didn't know what he was saying, although he could see his lips moving. Instead of making any noise, he simply gestured to the boy's hands, which were still bleeding a little.
“Um… yes? Those are my hands?” He didn’t show them to the apparently mute person, instead rose them a little as if he was impressed by them or something. “I moisturize them if that counts.”
Callie sighed. Blood, he mouthed, unsure if the boy understood him. Few people did - he kept telling his mother it was a waste of time teaching him to mouth things, but she never listened.
“Blood?” He asked softly. “Err…. yes, I have normal blood that carries oxygen. Can I go? I don’t want to bother you anymore,” He mumbled shyly, shuffling away a little. “Also, can you hear me?”
Callie tapped his ear and shook his head, indicating that whatever the boy was saying, he couldn't hear it. Black, he mouthed. If only he had paper or something, he'd be able to write it down.
“Oh… um… I’m not really comfortable talking about it.” He shifted his grip on the pale bag he was holding. “Do you just… er… want to come with me?” He asked, making sure to accentuate his words. He felt like he was making a fool of the other.
Come with me. Callie got that, at least. Well…he had nothing else to do, and he couldn't just let this boy with black blood walk away from him. He didn't even know where he was going, or how long it would take, but…he had so many questions. So, he nodded. Yes, he'd go with the boy.
Apollo nodded back and gestured for the other to follow him. His apartment wasn’t too far away according to the address he had been given. He lead the other through the crowded street and to a complex, where he checked himself in for his apartment and into the elevator. There, he pressed one of the bottom buttons and smiled shyly at Callie.
Callie looked down at him, returning the smile kindly. It seemed like the boy had just checked into an apartment, and he assumed he was fairly new to the city. He didn't even know his name. Name? He mouthed. He'd been good at accentuating words before, so maybe he could tell him this.
“My name?” He asked softly. “Oh, I’m Apollo. Apollo Williams.” He set down the bag, the straps leaning forward. They were dark with his blood, despite the other male not bleeding very much.
“What’s your name?” He continued the conversation.
Callie tilted his head. He'd gotten that his name was Apol…Apollo something. He had said something else, too, but Callie didn't quite know what it was. But the blood. He couldn't get it out of his head - it wasn't necessarily bad to him, although he knew it meant the person had done bad things. It was just…so dark. And all over the bags.
When Apollo didn’t get an answer, he assumed the other didn’t want to talk. Apollo dropped his head and picked up his bags again, leading the way out quietly to his apartment. He fumbled with the keys for a bit until he unlocked it and walked in. It was a simple apartment, furnished. He set his things down, sighing.
Callie looked around. It was simple, not unlike his own, but it looked very…un-lived in, as if Apollo had just gotten the place. He looked around for…paper, a notebook, something to write with, but he couldn't see anything. He hadn't thought to keep one in his pocket today, he didn't think he'd need it.
Apollo glanced at the visitor, and pulled out a notebook as if he could read the other’s mind.
“I guess you’re looking for something to write on? You sad something about not being able to hear, right?” He asked, making sure his meaning was clear.
A notebook. Callie nodded and smiled gratefully, glad to finally have something to communicate with. He took a pen that was lying on a table nearby, and held out his hand for the notebook. His…mechanical hand. Curse it sometimes.
Apollo handed it over, smiling shyly when he saw the other’s hand. Though it was nothing compared to black blood. He shuffled off to wash his hands and change his pants, and returned a couple minutes later in fresh, darker, pants.
So your name is Apollo, right? Callie wrote, showing the notepad to him as soon as he came back.
Apollo just nodded, his cheeks a faint red. He gently took the pen from the other and wrote in rather neat handwriting:
Yeah, that’s my name. What’s yours? And why did you want to come home with me?
Callie smiled and his eyes brightened as he wrote back. The boy - Apollo - was actually communicating with him. Callie. Sorry about that, but your blood.
It’s nice to meet you. And yeah. My blood’s black. He wrote back, setting the pen down as if he were afraid of tainting it.
Callie looked up at him, eyes curious with a tilted head. Eventually, he picked up the pen and wrote again. Why?
(Shit man I thought I responded to this!)
Apparently from the place I’m from a lot more stuff is illegal. My parents immigrated from Guinea to here when I was going to university. But I was a really dysfunctional teenager. That’s what he left it at, setting the pen down. He didn’t like talking about it.