(no subject)
Mohinder heard a rattle, turning back to glance at the slim Asian man who was levering the car door open with shaking hands. His eyes pierced Mohinder, sizing him up cautiously-he couldn’t hold the other man’s gaze for long.
“Where would you like to go, sir?” Mohinder asked in a barely audible tone.
His passenger let out a dejected exhalation, balancing his head on his hands as he was pitched forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on his thighs.
“Sir?”
The man started, lifting his head.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, word near-muffled by a sudden crack of thunder. “Take me to the Deveaux building.”
Mohinder nodded tightly, holding his tongue. Driving taxis meant keeping his thoughts to himself, but he was, by nature and by practice, a scientist, and he found himself quashing his innate curiosity far too often for comfort. Mohinder blinked, keeping his eyes on the road instead of his dangerous thoughts.
“Have you ever lost someone very close?” the man inquired somberly.
Mohinder noted with some annoyance that it had begun to rain-torrentially. He sighed, hopelessly lost in memory.
“Mohinder?” Zane had asked, eyes alight with mischief. The Indian rolled over to face the punk, brown skin taking on the hue of honey as tendrils of light caught it through a small gap in the curtains. “Do you ever think about what will happen when we die?”
Mohinder blinked away sleep-dust, moving into the warm spot at Zane’s hip as morning chill swept through him, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The larger man’s hands slipped around him without prompting, rubbing his arms to fight the cold and pulling him into his chest to keep it at bay. Mohinder could feel a creeping blush making its way across his flesh as he choked out a response.
“I-I suppose.” Zane rested his forehead on Mohinder’s shoulder, smiling broadly. “What do you mean?” he breathed, burrowing into the taller man’s chest.
“I mean,” he said thoughtfully, speaking directly into Mohinder’s ear. “Do you believe in life after this?”
Mohinder shuddered, and pulled away to look into Zane’s eyes. This was all much too surreal. And then his shaky voice came, foreign to his ears, “No.”
When had he lost all religion?
“Yes,” Mohinder bit out, and he was not battling tears.
Lightning struck as he pulled up to the decaying structure. He couldn’t help the small jump, but he chalked it up to shaky nerves and New England weather.
“Don’t lose hope.”
Mohinder almost thought it was the rustling wind, having forgotten his client. The door was shaking, hanging wide open; allowing rain to collect on the cab floor.
He rushed out into the storm to dart back and collect the crumpled bills that the man had carelessly left on the seat-
Yen.