He had just used it the day before, that it had somehow disappeared from where he had last left it made no sense whatsoever and it confused him. Agni didn’t use it, he didn’t care to use it. He claimed it was so much easier to use the internet to look up places and phone numbers. Mira liked the old feeling of being able to turn the pages while he looked for something. It was one of the reasons why he loved working in the library, all the books he could handle, all the books he could read and open. Their scent, either old or new, the way he could hold them in his hands, all different sizes and shapes.
Books were dying out, replaced by Kindles or whatever else people were using to read those ‘e-books’ that were now all the rage. It was sad. Still, that didn’t explain why his phone book was missing or where it had gone off to. Though he reminded himself that the book certainly hadn’t wandered off on its own, it had no legs and unless it had magically sprouted some, it was still somewhere in their apartment.
He had asked Cyrille who had only shrugged, not even aware they had one such book and Agni had outright ignored him, too busy with whatever game it was he was playing at that point.
Mira had looked, he had searched and he had bent to look under places but still he’d not found it. It was as he dropped to his knees to look under the couch that he found the thing, as if it was trying to hide from him. He reached out for it, tried to grasp it , drag it closer but he found it to be too far from him. He muttered, sighed and moved back to his feet. He stretched with a slight wince from all the looking he’d been doing and went in a brief search of one of the wooden spoons in the kitchen, he figured it would add just enough length to his arm to get the book out from under the couch.
With the spoon in hand, he walked back to the couch and he first knelt on the ground, then moved to flatten himself on his chest so he could look back under the dark and surprisingly dusty area. He blinked as the book seemed to be nowhere it sight, a strange feat as he was sure he had seen it when it had been right there, right at that very spot.
He looked the length of the underside of the couch and spotted the seemingly alive book on the other end. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Mira scooted down until he could reach out with the wooden spoon and give the book a few sideways push, getting out from under the couch to an area where he’d have an easier time picking it up.
Finally, he was back to his feet with the phone book in one hand and the wooden spoon in the other. He walked back to the kitchen, wiped the spoon of dust and put it back where it belonged. He set the phone book down on the counter, opened it at a random page and stared.
“What was I even wanting to look for?” He had been so busy trying to find the book that his mind had conveniently forgotten what he had wanted to look into the book for once he found it. Groaning in dismay, Mira slammed the book shut and left it there. It was in plain sight, if it went anywhere else then there was something wrong with that book because books just weren’t supposed to go places on their own.
Half-heartedly stomping away and to his room, Mira promptly crawled under his covers and told himself that if whoever he’d had needed to call was important, it would come back to him.
A few hours later, there was a soft knock at his door and he just barely peeked his head out from beneath his covers. He was now toasty warm and he had put the whole phone book deal out of his mind, at least for the most part. He grumbled softly but eased from his bed with an exaggerated sigh. He eased to his door and rubbed his eyes.
He blinked at the sight of Cyrille standing there, a somewhat amused smile to his lips. “I noticed the phone book on the counter, I’m guessing that you found it and put it there, did you call the eye-doctor place the way you wanted to?”
Mira blinked again, looked at him as if he were invisible a moment and looked back up to the young man standing just inches away from him. “I wanted to call the eye-doctor place?”
“Well that’s what you said when you asked me if I’d seen the book. I should have helped you look for it, by the way, I’m sorry.”
Mira shook his head, unable to believe that had slipped his mind this way. He looked towards his alarm clock and then shook his head. “It’s too late to call in today, I’m not even sure why I wanted to call them in the first place anyway.”
“Well you did mention that some of the writing in certain books was blurry. Maybe you should talk to Eoghan about it first, maybe this whole gifted thing makes you different as far as eye-sight, wouldn’t want the doctor to figure something out he shouldn’t.”
Again, Mira blinked up at him, almost taken aback a little by how much Cyrille seemed to be open and understanding of the whole thing. He hadn’t thought about how maybe his eyes were different and a little blur might not be fixed by an eye-doctor.
With a sigh and another rub of the bridge of his nose, he walked to his desk and wrote himself a small note: Talk to Eoghan about slight blurring of smaller words, then see if calling eye-doctor is necessary. He left it in the middle of his desk, pinned slightly under the corner of one of his books so it wouldn’t float away to the bridge. “Thank you, Cyrille. Through all my searching to find the book it slipped my mind, I couldn’t even recall why I’d been looking for it in the first place. I opened it and I drew a blank, it was frustrating.”
Reaching out, once Mira was close enough again, Cyrille touched the slighter boy’s forehead with his hand gently. He frowned and leaned closer, pressing his lips to that very forehead. He leaned back with a soft ‘tsk’ sound. Mira’s cheeks were rosy from the sudden closeness.
“You’re warm and I’m sure it’s not just from the time you spent bundled up. You’re coming down with a fever, no wonder you’re a little cranky. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing but I’ve never really seen you act this way before. You’re not burning up yet but I’m sure it’ll come before too long, you should probably just get back under the covers at this point, I’ll go prepare us all some soup, I think it’ll do us some good.”
“Okay.” Mira saw no point to arguing, he didn’t feel that good now that he actually did take a moment to stop thinking about everything else and focus on how he felt. Cyrille smiled at him, mussing his hair lightly. Mira didn’t even bother to bat at the hand, he merely walked back to his bed and moved to crawl back under his still warm sheets.
He nuzzled his face against his pillow as Cyrille stepped out of his room. Mira closed his eyes and promptly drifted off to the wings of the sandman. Sleep seemed more important than anything else for him at this point and he had a feeling he’d be woken up for whatever food was brought into his room as necessary.