Secret Door

Twelve

I turned to the fridge to rummage around for something to cook. Alex rarely ate in, but thankfully there was a bag of pasta that I could quickly fix up. I gathered sauce and pots and pans, humming to myself as I began. My mind wandered to Alex's episode, as much as I didn't want it to. Al was a private guy, but this scare had led me some insight into his carefully confined world. My suspicions about his alcohol habits had been slowly creeping up behind me for weeks, but I didn't want to admit the severity of it all to myself until I had to. I had been so afraid; walking in on him like that. My brain now forced me to consider what I would have done had he been dead. My palms shook at the mere thought. I left the meal simmering, and poked my head around the corner into Alex's room.

"Everything okay?" I inquired, looking over at him curled underneath his fluffy comforter and propped against an array of pillows.

"Just well, Miles," he chuckled at my worrisome tendencies. I smiled sheepishly and went back to finish my cooking.

I couldn't help feeling on edge now. I knew Al was safe in his bed and that I was more than capable of taking care of him, but my senses were still heightened. Alex was such a dichotomy; flickering between his two spectrum ends. He always put on a show; a persona. He tried to let the world know that he was confident and strong. He tried to come off like he knew what he was doing at all times and that each move was deliberate. He wanted to be something magnificent. Not that Al wasn't magnificent to me. His private side though was an insecure, shy, confused, romantic who tried to figure the world out to no avail. My heart stung at our circumstances and his tendencies. I poked my head around the corner again.

"Yes, Miles, I'm still alive," he joked. I smiled genuinely.

"Just making sure," I retorted.

"When's the food ready. I'm starved," his voice let out a hint of a whine.

"Soon, dear," I grinned. He tossed a pillow at me from across the room. I dodged it swiftly and threw it right back, hitting Al right on the side of his head.

"Wanker!" he exclaimed, half-heartedly throwing the pillow to the floor in front of me and pouting, falling to his side on the bed almost in an air of defeat.

My breath caught seeing him there, looking over at me adoringly. He looked so tired, just exhausted in every aspect of the word. I smiled fondly before walking out to finish dinner.

I took two pasta dishes out from the cabinet above me and grabbed a spoon. I scooped up lots of pasta for Alex and less for me. I felt like a mother trying desperately to care for her son; too overprotective and too anxious. I carried the bowls out.

When I walked back into the room Alex was laying in the same position, endearing eyes focused on me underneath his messy hair as it fell in front of his face.

"Here, babe," I blushed at the casual moniker.

"Thanks," Al was blushing too as he looked down at his bowl, seeming to forget that he was the one who used the name first now that he had settled back into his quiet state of mind.

I lifted up the many blankets, and curled up close to him, balancing my pasta dish on my lap. He ate slowly and silently, his body heat radiating and filling my heart up. I opened my mouth once to initiate conversation, but I figured he needed to be let alone for now. I finished my food before he did and took my bowl to the kitchen. As he continued to eat, I laid down on the pillow and attempted to rest. I felt like my brain had been running on overdive all evening.

I heard the clattering of dishes soon, and the shifting of weight from the bed.

"No, I'll take it love," I insisted, getting up to stop Alex from going to the kitchen.

"Jesus, Mi, I don't need that much bedrest."

"Just lay down. I'll be back soon you proud git," that made him smile and give in, climbing back in bed.

I pulled Al against my chest when I came back. I kissed his back through his shirt comfortingly, more just because I wanted to feel him there. Alex's body seemed to hum underneath me, warm and happy. I stroked his chest for a few silent moments before I decided to ask him.

"Hey, Al. It's really been bothering me; why were you drinking alone at home?" I spoke soft.

I waited for a response, but all I heard was steady breathing. He had already fallen asleep. I smiled, kissing his cheek as I settled back into my position. 'The conversation could wait till morning' I told myself, drifting off deeply with him.