Instinctively, Cal places his thumb over the small circle at the bottom of the phone. It vibrates and lights up, the screen revealing an image of a beach.
“Fingerprint,” Dawson finishes with a small laugh. “I know you’re not one for browsing the internet, you don’t even do social media, but it should help you pass the time. You can download a reading app and get some books. Or something.”
He hardly understands what Dawson’s talking about, but he doesn’t want to embarrass himself by asking. He doesn't care, anyway, his thoughts revolving around the man next to him who evidently put time and effort into making sure Cal has something to entertain himself with. He vaguely remembers mentioning how bored he gets here.
“Thank you.” He hopes Dawson can hear the sincerity in his voice. “Really. I’ve been losing my mind a little.”
Dawson shifts in the chair and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I bet. I’ve only been to the hospital once, but God, it was torture.”
Sensing a chance, Cal asks, “When were you in the hospital? Was it serious?”
Dawson chuckles. “My seven-year-old self would probably have something dramatic to say about it, but no. They just took out my tonsils. I went home the next day.”
The answer is both relieving and disappointing. Of course, he’s happy Dawson wasn’t seriously injured, but it also gets Cal no closer to figuring out what his ‘dreams’ mean.
Turning his attention to the phone, Cal studies the colorful icons scattered over the screen. They don’t seem familiar, but he instinctively knows what they mean—and they also have a description below. His eyes zero in on the one with four different-colored half-moons arranged into a shape that looks like a fan. The description saysPhotos, and his curiosity is peaked. There could be something to help him remember.
He taps the icon with his thumb, the action subconscious and familiar. The screen changes, showing countless little squares stacked in rows and columns. He swipes across the screen, rolling it down, searching for Dawson’s face. He’s not sure if he’ll react as strongly to seeing his own face in the pictures as he did in the mirror, but hopefully Dawson’s face will distract him.
He keeps swiping for a while, but there are no pictures of them—barely any people at all, actually. They all feature various sections of buildings, drawings, and numbers. Is this part of his job? Ellis said something about buildings.
“Are there any photos of us?”
Dawson seems taken aback. “Oh. I don’t know.” He pauses, chewing on his lip. “You’ve had several phones over the years. I’m not sure if you transferred all the media.”
Cal looks at the phone. The pictures are divided by the month and year in which they were taken, the section he’s at now showing pictures from March 2019. Clearly, he’s been ‘transferring the media’.
One picture in particular draws his attention. The person in it looks like Dawson, and is lying in the bed. He taps on it, and his mouth goes dry.
ItisDawson, with his silky-looking brown hair and long eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks, lips red and slightly parted. He’s on his stomach, one side of his face pressed into a pillow and his arms shoved under it. He’s gorgeous.
And completely naked.
There are others, pictures of Dawson taken from different angles, while he’s in this position.
Cal’s heart rate goes rogue, heat spreading through his whole body. His insides feel hot, and his belly tingles as if someone tickled him from the inside.
He must make some kind of sound, because Dawson asks, “What?” and leans forward to see what Cal’s looking at. He freezes.
“Oh my God,” he gasps, his whole face red. “When did you—”
“I’m sorry,” Cal blurts out, feeling ashamed. Dawson evidently didn’t know Cal had taken those. “I didn’t—I’ll delete them.” He taps the first picture with a shaky finger, trying to figure out how to get rid of it.
Before he can, Dawson says, “It’s fine.” He doesn’t sound fine, avoiding Cal’s gaze. “I was just…surprised.” He gestures at the phone with a shaky hand. “I mean, obviously we’d just had sex, so… It’s normal for people to have these…”
Cal frowns. That’s…not right. Even if other people have them, there must be a reason why Dawson was shocked to see these. Shouldn’t people ask each other before taking photos like this?
“But you’re not comfortable with it.” It’s not a question. Dawson’s shoulders curl inwards and he hugs himself. “And you didn’t know I took them.” Another not-a-question. Dawson’s tiny headshake tells him everything he needs to know. He offers him the phone. “You should delete them.”
Dawson’s wide eyes snap up to him, and Cal hates the apprehension he sees in them. Dawson doesn’t even protest. He takes the phone gingerly, like he’s expecting Cal to change his mind.
“Thank you.” His next exhale is full of relief. “Mind if I check the rest?”
“Go ahead.”
For the next few minutes, the tension is so thick Cal almost chokes on it, his body tense. The heat he felt before has turned into ice, causing a whole new avalanche of emotions inside him.
“I…um,” Dawson starts after what seems like an eternity. “I found a picture of us.” His voice is small and empty, definitely not pleased by finding their picture. It makes Cal reluctant to look, but if Dawson is okay with him seeing it, then it can’t be that bad.
