Bed Sheets

28. It Doesn't Matter

He hadn't heard from Draven since.

The last day of visitations were today, and he hadn't gone. He didn't want to go alone, but he had to. Hence why, that morning, he lethargically exited from his bed, remembering Melissa's tone as she rushed across his bedroom to throw him all the clothes he needed, screaming that he was late. He marched towards the bathroom, wishing that he could see Melissa in his reflection as she gelled his hair back, helping him get ready faster while he brushed his teeth.

She was never going to do that again.

He quietly brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, grabbed his clothes for the visitations, and marched towards the living room. Not hungry, he reached for his fridge and grabbed a water bottle. As he pleaded his shoes on, he headed for the door, and the minute he opened the door, it was at the same time that Draven was going to knock.

Hence why when the door opened, he stared at a surprised Eric. Eric had not expected him to come to visitations, let alone to his home, but he was there, with flowers in his arms  and dressed all in black. He never cared about Melissa, did not know her well enough, but he was concerned about Eric, and did not want the same thing to happen to him.

Hence why, and breathed a short, "Hey."

Eric simply nodded his head as greeting, and stepped aside, letting Draven enter the appartement. He remembered when he had arrived here the first time, and Eric was plastered on the couch; Melissa had been the one taking care of him that night. They seemed like a perfect duo, Audi one another grow.

He felt extremely sorry for Eric.

Eric reached the kitchen and pressed on his coffee maker, filling a cup for Draven and handing it to him, for which he thanked Eric.

They had not spoken ever since then, and Draven noticed the gloom that followed Eric as he marched across the apartment. He was not the same person he used to be, which was understandable; he had lost one of the closest people in his environment.

Eric sat across from him, slowly drinking his water bottle as he avoided Draven's gaze.

Draven took a sip from his coffee, before muttering, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Eric nodded his head, letting him know he had heard him. There was a short silence, until Eric began talking, explaining a story that he had kept between Melissa and himself.

"We were somewhat both the same. I grew up in the foster system, so I never really had a family. Melissa did have a family, but her mother never cared about her and her father was sick all the time. We became friends in high school, graduated University together. She was a phenomenal dancer, and she had a dream she wanted to chase, the same way I was chasing mine too."

"My biological mother passed around the time that I moved her; it was tough to overcome even though I barely knew her. I thought there was a part of my life that had vanished, and that I would never know about. Melissa was there for me..." he heaved a long sigh, before turning away, his bloodshot eyes that had cried all night, filling with tears again, "she was always there for me."

"She was suicidal before we got here, and she told me. We always had a pack, that if one of us were to die, we would do it together, only if we reached the lowest point in our lives together. I just..." he turned away, leaning into his arms as he cried, "I just thought that she would at least tell me."

"It's just crazy because everyone that we met would always say that Melissa always seemed so happy and loving. The Melissa I knew was never happy," he sighed, "she always had something that made her sad. It could be the way her manager looked at her, or that she didn't get the last piece of meat at the grocery store. Everything was a big deal for her, and she just needed to be reminded that she was loved."

Eric paused for a moment, clenching his scalp with one palm as he breathed, "I wasn't there for her—"

"No," Draven shook his head.

"She needed me and I was too selfish—"

"Fights happen," Draven said quietly, "but you can't blame yourself for her passing." When Eric simply shook his head, Draven stood from his seat and reached for him, "Eric look at me, please look at me."

Eric raised his head, and stared at the blur gaze that seemed to be the warmest at this time. Draven bit his bottom lip as he saw the sorrow behind Eric's eyes, "She was sick, and as much as you helped her, there's nothing we can do about it. She was sick, she needed serious help."

"But I knew that," he exclaimed, his voice straining as the emotions evoked from his tone, "I knew all that and I still left her."

"Because she hurt you Eric—"

"And I should've forgiven her."

"You stood up for yourself, that's all you did," Draven caressed his jaw, his warm palm feeling Eric's cold cheek. Eric attempted to break contact but Draven didn't let him, "Look at me Eric." When Eric returned to his gaze, Draven raised his eyebrows, "You'll be alright, okay? I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Eric bit his bottom lip, "I've been awful to you, and now I'm only using you because I need help—"

"It doesn't matter," Draven wrapped his arms around Eric as he leaned his forehead against his chest, "I'm here for you."