After teaching him to drink a hot drink without scalding either his hands or his tongue, I took him to the closet, trying to find clothes that fit him. I was lucky a lot of my male cousins used to visit this house often back then; they even leave their clothes here. There isn’t much, but I recall one of my older cousins was as tall and skinny. He’s still meddling with his food—I gave him lots of sweets and sweet bread, but he never seemed to have enough—and I shuffle through my closet, trying to figure out his size. After a while, I found a set of pajamas and a fluffy knitted sweater that looked new and clean, that perfectly matches his size. I don’t really care whose clothes are these; he’ll have to make use of them for now.

I took his hand and head for the bathroom, letting him finish his last bites of brownies first before handing him his new set of clothes and tell him to take a bath. He looked at me while his chocolate coated fingers, as if my orders were the strangest thing ever.

“Bath… you see? To… clean your body. Do you understand?” he tilted his head, still figuring out how to hold the pajamas in one hand as he his fingers clean off chocolate. How should I tell this creature how to bath…? I’m not even sure he had seen any bath in years, not with his dirty state… and I’m not even sure I want to bath him. Come on, however he doesn’t seem humane he is still a guy.

I motioned him to follow me as I went inside the bathroom and turned the hot water tap on, preparing a hot bath for him. I poured a bit of sweet scented bath gels… my logic is, if he like sweets that much, he must’ve like sweet scents too, right? I’ll just hope he doesn’t eat the bath foam.

When the bath is ready, I pointed at the tub, ordering him to get in. He exchanged gazes between the tub and me, probably not knowing what to do. I took his hand and slowly lead it to the water, waiting for his reaction. He touched the warm water and seemed to like it, especially the bath foam. He leaned in, seeming to like the idea of bathing in warm water. I grabbed the clothes he held as he stepped inside the tub, still fully clothed.

“Yah, you can’t bath fully clothed…” I exclaim as he excitedly sit inside the tub, enjoying the foamy warm bath. Giving up, I sighed. “Well I suppose its fine, then….”

I set aside his set of pajamas and help him bath. I took his dirty sweater off and he doesn’t seem to care even for the slightest bit as he played with the sweet scented bath foam. What I see beneath the sweater made me held my breath.

He had a finely sculpted body, those that are made by hard work. That was not the thing that shocked me, though. Above his pale skin, there are red marks everywhere. Scars, everywhere. Some deep, some shallow. Some old, some new. I touched the mark that seemed newest, and he winched; not liking my touch. He grunted and continued playing as soon as I pull back.

“So you don’t like it when I touch your wounds…?” I mumbled and he doesn’t seem to notice, still taking his time to enjoy warm water. “But you don’t mind your wounds touching warm water…” I mumbled, patting his head. I moved away for a bit, getting out of the bathroom to get my first aid kit, and he whimpered lowly, in a sad tone. I peeked at him and asked, “What is it? I’m just taking my first aid kit.” He looked at me in the same gaze, the one that looks like a sad puppy’s gaze. “You don’t want me to leave?” he blinked, reaching his hands out towards my direction, probably contemplating to leave the tub and follow me instead. He seemed to understand what I’m saying, but he doesn’t know how to reply…

I sighed heavily. I decided to skip classes today and help him instead… he needs me. I approached his side and he uses his hands to touch my arms delicately; a bit scared. I smiled as I sit on the edge of the tub, comforting him. “I’ll help you bath, then I’ll take care of your wounds, okay? Do you understand?” he looked up at me, still not answering. “Okay, let me teach you something. If you liked my idea, you understand my words, or you agree, do this.” I showed him a nodding move. “Okay?” slowly, he tried nodding his head the way I did before. “Good. Now if you don’t like something, or you disagree, you shake your head. Like this,” I shook my head briefly as he admired me. “Understand?” he blinked a few times, as if taking time to digest my words… and slowly, he nodded. I smiled and help him bath, thanking the sweet scented foam that keeps him busy while I scrubbed him clean gently.

Somehow, I managed to get him clean without hurting his wounds. The water turned a bit cold and I had to get him out of the tub before he catches cold, yet he had this expression on his face that seemingly dislike the idea to get out of such a warm place. Now… dripping wet as he stood on the bathroom floor, I pondered for a while. How on earth should I… teach him how to change clothes? He only had his pants on, and I don’t really want to undress him. As I patted his body dry using a towel, my thoughts raced. Let’s just hope he understood my words.

I took his set of clothing and showed him the troublesome pants. “So, this is a pant. Like the one you’re wearing.” I pointed at his wet denim pants and he looked to the direction I was pointing, trying to understand my words. “Because your pants are wet… You have to change. This is new and dry, so it’s nice. Do you understand?” having an uncanny expression, he shook his head. How should I show him?

Instead of paying attention to what I was saying, he seemed to gain interest in my bottles of perfume I lined up along the mirror cabinet. I’m not sure, but he seemed to smell the aromatic liquid even from the distance, and he seemed to like the floral scented one most. So I have an idea. I grabbed the bottle out of his reach in a zip then he whimpered quietly, disliking my doing. “Look here,” I ordered him. I sprayed the perfume to the pajamas in my hands then he abruptly approached me to smell the now-aromatic pajamas. He seemed to like it. “Because now it smells nice, so you could choose. The old one or the new one?” I pointed to his old clothes then at the pajamas, and he seemed to understand. In a swift move, he took the pajamas and pulled down his pants, so fast that I yelped in shock and turn my back hurriedly, waiting for him to get changed.

He approached me and touched my back slowly when he is done, showing me the slightly askew shirt as he mismatched the hole and the buttons. Trying to content my laugh, I fixed the buttons in the correct place and he nodded his head. “So you liked this?” he continued nodding.

I dragged him to the living room after grabbing my first aid kit, determined to bandage up all those nasty looking wounds. I had to roll his sleeves at first to tend to the smaller scars on his arms, but when I realized his wounds were all over his torso I decided that it is best to take off his shirt for a while. He disliked this and managed to show me by holding onto his shirt after I partially undo his buttons, and we’re back to the bribing game: chocolate bars and sweet bread. He ate messily and I don’t care much, as long as I would be able to take care of him.

He winched a bit and shook his head a lot of times as I took care of his wounds but beside that, he didn’t do much. That was the only thing he does to show me he’s hurt, so I told him that he could poke my shoulder every time he’s hurt. He doesn’t nod a response, but I knew he understood. I proceed to a large scar on his chest. It was pretty gore, it’s a bit deep and his flesh had gone slightly infected. Probably because lack of tending, so I had to use a lot of alcohol and it seemed to hurt a lot, he poked my shoulder a dozen of times, panicked. “It’s alcohol. See? It will help you heal…” he’s still poking my shoulder and shaking his head, whimpering lowly. I poured the alcohol a bit to my hands to show him. “See? It doesn’t hurt. It’s alright.” His breathing raced and his eyes widened in pain, and I ran out of ideas. Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest scissors and slashed a finger, showing him the red blood that is flowing, my flesh that is showing, just like on his chest. He paid attention, despite panicking towards the burning sensation on his chest. “Look, I will do the same. But it’s okay, look.” I poured the alcohol on my fresh wound, and the familiar tingly pain came rushing to me. I had to bite my lips to stop myself from yelping loud, but after that, he seemed to calm down, knowing that alcohol is okay. We no longer have problems after that.

When done with his torso and now he partially looked like a chocolate munching mummy, I checked around his head just to make sure. Thank goodness there were no serious wounds on his head and face, so he should be fine now.

In the midst of checking, I found a writing stamped to the back of his neck. It looked like a tattoo… but it had texture. It doesn’t seem like the usual ink tattoo, it seemed to stand out against the skin, and he disliked it when I touched it. He shook his head repeatedly to show that he doesn’t like it. It took me a while to read the letters beneath the calligraphy, but I figured it read as ‘Leo.’

“Leo.” He sat straight when hearing so, straight and stiff he even drop the bread he was holding. I don’t understand, so I whispered it once again softer, thinking I might have scared him. But as soon as I did so, he turned to face me and he start to look scared, his gaze shaking with fear.

“Is Leo… your name?” he didn’t answer. Instead, he bite his chapped lips again making it bleed, and I panicked. “It’s alright. I won’t do anything bad to you… remember? I told you so. Do you understand?” he nodded to my words. “Can you stop biting your lips?” he doesn’t answer. “Hey, answer me… is Leo your name? I can’t give more sweet breads to someone I don’t even know the name….” I took the plateful of sweet bread and he reached a hand out, still wanting the treats. He nodded repeatedly to answer my question, he continued nodding even after I said its fine, he nodded until I hand him the plate.

“So your name is Leo.” He nodded as he looked up at me, somehow making me remember of someone’s guilty gaze. “You did nothing wrong… here, you can eat again. I’m just happy I know your name.” I take a small piece of bread and hand it to him as he reluctantly took it from my hands. I wonder if his name… made him obey orders. Since he feared it so much when I said his name…

He started eating again cautiously, taking glances from the plate and me. Let’s try this once then, Aileen. “Leo, stop eating.” He froze and stopped eating; glancing at me in a weird expression I’ve never seen before… a mixture of sadness, fear, guilt, and pain. I shift and sat next to him, carefully patting his head the way he liked it. “Leo. I would start calling you that from now on, understand?” he nodded. “And you can eat whatever you want. Understand?” he hesitated for a bit, so I rephrase the sentence: “Leo can eat whatever Leo wants. Understand?” he hurriedly nods. I sighed heavily, and as soon as he finished eating he started biting his lips again, looking at me like he was waiting for my orders. “Yah. Stop it; you don’t have to be ordered by anyone. You can eat again,” I told him softly. He continued to stutter. “Leo, please stop biting your lips. And Leo, you can eat some more, and you don’t have to wait for orders from me. Does Leo understand?” he calmed down a bit and nods repeatedly before grabbing two sweet breads at once, munching them in delight, in a sense that a weight had been lifted off his shoulder.

So that’s it: calling him Leo gave me control over him.