Son of a stepfather

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"Sorry. I... I just needed to feel you... Sorry, just forget about it. Our friendship is too valuable to turn into that kind of 'friends with benefits' relationship. And I don't want to lose you. I know I might be losing you that way. Sorry." Isaac says, pulling away, looking even more tired and sad. He wipes away his tears and than wipes a few from my nose with his thumb, excusing himself for 'infecting me with them'.

Not particularly being in all minds, I kiss him again, more passionately this time, moving my fingers through his curly browny-ginger hair. As I pull away, I start feeling nauseous and dizzy and unable to breathe. I hug my knees and start crying and shivering.

"Phoebe, you are having that crisis of yours, aren't you? Relax, you can breathe. If you couldn't breathe, you wouldn't be alive. Shhh..."

Isaac picks me up in his arms and started rocking me gently as he carries me on the dark hall, taking me into the kitchen.

"I..Isa..Isaac, I can't b...breathe." I say, trying to gather enough air. He was right. I just felt I couldn't breathe. In fact, my lungs were perfectly functioning. It was my brain sending these awful signals of...dying. I was still unable of controlling the sensation. This is what happens every time I have this sort of crisis. Isaac knew what he had to do, meaning he had to get me the medicine, but at his place, there were no medicines suitable for this. Or so I thought.

"Phoebe, don't worry, I have here what you need. Open up."

He took a pill and a glass of water, put the pill on the tip of my tongue and helped me hold the glass as I drank the water. He patiently refilled it two more times, helping me take the cure. After about 10 minutes, I calmed down. I wasn't 'dying' anymore, but no words could escape my mouth. Picking me up in his arms again, Isaac took me to his room and laid me on the bed. He turned off the light and crawled next to me. All I could see were his eyes, illuminating.

"How come you had my medicine...?"I manage to say, after a very long time.

"I dreamt once that you were dying. You were having a crisis and you said you couldn't breathe and that you needed the medicine. And I didn't have any of that. So when I was at your place once, I checked the cupboard, wrote down the names and bought them."

He was crying again. I could see shiny drops on his cheeks, falling on the white pillow.

"Isaac, you are scaring me..."

He put a hand on my neck and played with a strand of hair. He smiled through the tears.

"Go to sleep..." he whispers as he takes his hand away, trying to keep distance from me.

"Am I always the one dying in your dreams?"

"Every single time. And my mom usually does something totally heartless instead of helping me and... My dad always has a hand on my shoulder, like a ghost. You know why I called you that Sunday night? I called to make sure you were alive."

"Isaac..."

"And I sometimes get this voice in my head when you're not with me and it's screaming my name and it's screaming for help. It's your voice."

I just shut up, not knowing what else to say; this kind of supernatural thing happens only in movies. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of exhaustion. I came closer to Isaac and buried my head against his chest, wrapped my legs around his and kissed him once more.

"Phoebe... I didn't know you liked me that way."

"I don't know what's happening to me, just forget it."

He kissed the tip of my nose and whispered 'okay'. Than, he put his arms around me and sang me something in a low voice until I fell asleep.

****

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