TOUCH STARVED

SEVENTEEN

As you were about to set yourself down and crash for the remainder of the morning, you heard the familiar vibrating of your phone coming from your bedroom. Your heart thundered suddenly at the noise that disturbed the peace that had settled like a fog over dormant waters. You paced quickly, hoping to see that your landlord was calling, the excitement of what was to come spinning in your stomach until... You picked up the phone.

'Peter is calling...'

You questioned yourself in the moment as you stood there staring at the screen why you were so hesitant to answer, and why there was a certain shift in emotion that stemmed from excitement to sudden dread as your finger hovered over the answer button. What could he want? Your heart screamed for answers, but your brain demanded to put the phone down and forget about him. He had been silent, once again, for the past three days. It doesn't seem like much, but when you have nothing to do but watch the world go by, three days can feel like three weeks. You almost had him; been on the brink of completely committing yourself to him, and just as quick as it arrived it disappeared.

"Hello?"

You answered. You couldn't hang up, it wasn't in your nature. Part of you was curious to know what he wanted, the other half wanted to hear him apologise, maybe it was wishful thinking. Whatever it was, there was no turning back now.

"Hey," his voice rang clear, but all too the same it was shallow. He sounded like a wounded animal.

"You doing okay?" You hated to ask, you didn't want to care as much as you did, but hearing his voice had turned you soft.

"Uh... I- Not really, I have a doctor's appointment this morning... I don't have anyone to drive me."

"Did you mistake me for a taxi service?" you teased, hoping to lighten the aching tension between you even just a little, but there was nothing but the silence that followed as if he was cowering in shame at the other end of the phone, "hey, I'm joking, I'll take you, I don't mind."

"Can you come over?" he asked meekly. You paused for a moment, hand holding the phone close to your ear as your eyes sank to a close. Here you were again, falling for his tone, the subtle desperation in his voice that called for you to be at his aid. You desperately wanted to turn the other cheek, but before you could even begin to rationalise your thinking, "Sure," your lips were doing all the work for you.

Walking out of the door and coming face to face with Peter felt like climbing a mountain in the time it took you to encourage yourself to follow through with your words. You were somewhat nervous, raising your hand to knock on his door as though it had been the first time all over again, butterflies in your stomach. They made you sick. No matter of deep breaths could calm you now.

As your fist came to collide with the undisturbed wood of the frame, your phone buzzed lightly in your back pocket. You paused, brows shrouding together as you pulled your phone to meet your eyeline.

'don't knock please just come in.'

You swallowed as you read the words over and over again as if it had finally kicked in that there could be something wrong. Had you been an asshole to assume that he was the one being distant when maybe you should have been there for him? Every single emotion that could bring you anxiety and stress seemed to wash over you as you turned the handle and pushed open the door, stepping over the threshold into Peter's apartment. Once so welcoming and soft was now filled with the damp smell of sickness.

"Pete?" your nose scrunched as you closed the door behind you, the only light brightening the darkened room was that slipping through the slightly see-through curtains in the living room. You traced forward with steady footsteps, listening for any sign of sound.