My eyes widened the moment that I heard someone knocking on my door on repeat as if they wanted to break it. Whoever that punk is, I hope that they won't be able to get any sleep for the rest of their life because it seems like they don't know the importance of it. Sleep is everything to me. They just ruined my everything. I rolled my eyes and though I didn't want to, I stood up and then wore my feathery owl pair of slippers. I walked through the door and held the doorknob with my dried hand because of the strong air-conditioner chilly breeze.
It creaked after I opened it.
I now take back my curse earlier. I frowned at Peter who was hugging a grey pillow and looked like he has been chased by a ghost. Wearing a pair of grey striped sweaters and pajamas, he fixed his eyeglass and immediately leaned over to me. His head fell on my shoulder as I felt the urgency of my existence to him. He gently rubbed my back and even if I was confused, I had nothing else to do but to tap his back as well. I was speechless.
First of all, it's almost one in the morning. Why would he knock on the door so hard when he knows everyone is sleeping just to hug me?
Second of all, why does he look like he just woke up from his sleep? If he did, then why did he run to me like this?
Thirdly, I don't know why but his breath seems abnormal.
Fourth, why did he run to me and hug me like this, this tight as if I'm about to die? He never does this.
Last but not the least, why is he hugging a pillow?
When he backed away and moved forward, I saw the sense of being needy in his eyes. I saw how scared he is and how much he needs me.
"Umm, are you okay?" I tapped his arms to check if he was alright but he slowly shook his head and looked down. My forehead formed wrinkles on it and I grabbed his hand gently to let him in then shut the door slowly considering that sleeping people are just around the corner.
"What happened?" He slowly sits down on my bed with my help and then I sat next to him. I grabbed his cold and sweaty hands and then tenderly rub them. I already know what happened. His hands only get cold and sweaty like this when he's nervous.
But the question that remains unanswered is: why is he nervous?
He sighed and looked around my room before speaking. He seemed uncomfortable speaking. I think he thinks that someone else is listening and watching us. He's... well, I don't know how to say it but he looks... paranoid.
"Peter!" I slightly yelled to let him calm down. But he couldn't. He scattered his eyes around faster than before and I found out what he was looking for. Someone that's stalking us.
"Peter!" I yelled again and this time, it made him stop. He looked down at the floor and I slowly move closer to him. When I was close enough, I wrapped my arms around him and then let his head fall on my shoulder while my lips were pressed on his blonde hair. The discomfort was evident in his breath.
"Calm down, I'm here..." my sweater got wet the moment that I felt his tears falling down. Britney told me that Peter secretly consulted a psychiatrist a few years ago and he was diagnosed with Anxiety, Depression, and Schizophrenia. I guess those are attacking him now.
She's the only person that he told that thing about. It was their secret but still, Brit chose to tell it to me. And it was a good idea. Because I'm not that confused about what's going on anymore.
I know where Peter got all those disorders. From his life experiences.
I sighed and rubbed his arms. "It's okay..." I repeated. Time after time, his breathing method came back to normal.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
It took him a minute to answer, "I'm okay..." he whispered. He lies. But it's just to not make people worry about him. That's not good because it makes me more worried.
"Peter! Please! I know you, you're obviously not okay!" I demanded. But despite yelling, he remained calm.
"No, I'm all good. Nothing will change anyway if I tell you," simple words that hurt me. Sad to think that he doesn't trust me as much as he depends on Brit.
"I know, but I would listen," I whispered through his ears.
"I had a nightmare," he whispered back while keeping his head leaning on my shoulder.
"What was it about?"
"You won't understand,"
"But I would try to..."
"No! you can't,"
"How can you say that? You haven't even told me yet."
"Let's just say that some things can be understood while the others can't."
"Peter, I would listen. Just tell me what was your nightmare about? You don't know yet, maybe I can help you or maybe I can understand."
"Just let me sleep in your room tonight, that's all I want." He backs away from me and faked a smile.
If every fake smile is a dollar, then he's already the richest man in the world.
"Okay, fine..." I nodded and smiled. I know that he's just not comfortable telling me about it yet. But I'm pretty sure that someday, he would be just as fine. Perhaps not right now but momentarily.
"I'll get my foam in my room, wait for me."
"My bed is big enough for us already."
"We're not kids anymore." He shook his head and stood up but froze then looked back at me.
"Can you get it for me please?" He's a puzzle and I'm starting to get a few pieces of him. He's scared to go into his room because he can see unusual things. I nodded.
When I was just about to open the door and leave, he grabbed my arm. It was so tight that I already felt his nails hurting my skin. And his grip was too firm.
"Don't leave me," he whispers; just enough for me to hear him.
I see the fear in his deep blue eyes. They are hurting me too.