Weighted

3

A gentle weight on the end of the bed roused Harry from his sleep, hands grasping to pull more of the blanket up to hide his face from the intruder. Bright sunlight streamed through the cheap blinds, illuminating the excessive dust particles in the air, causing Harry to grimace.

A gentle hand made its way to the grumbling lump of Harry, patting softly along his hip. Slowly, he peeked up to find Tobi smiling down at him softly.

"You doing okay?" Tobi asked quietly, voice light with his signature overly concerned mum-friend tone.

Harry snuggled a little further into the weight of the heavy blanket. "I'm fine," He grumbled.

Tobi rubbed another reassuring circle on Harry's hip, feeling the way the beads inside the fabric shifted under his touch. "It's almost two o'clock, you missed your lectures today."

Harry simply grunted.

"I brought you your meds and a little treat, you think you're up for a snack?" Tobi asked, "You can go back to sleep after if you want, but you have to eat something first, yeah?"

Shuffling under the blanket, Harry finally sat up a little. Tobi handed him two small tablets and a glass of chocolate milk, letting Harry swallow them before presenting him with a jiggly slice of a homemade mousse cake.

"Thank you, you didn't have to." Harry mumbled sincerely, not feeling ready to look his friend in the eye just yet. He was thankful that Tobi only offered a smile and a reassuring pat on the knee, and he felt his heart ache a little less at having a best friend that took such good care of him, whenever he needed it. He didn't feel like he deserved it in the slightest.

Tobi waited for Harry to have a few mouthfuls of cake before speaking again. "I know it might be hard for you to believe me, but Simon is kind of worried about you. He came over this morning to check on you but I figured you might want to sleep. I do think you should talk to him when you're ready though." He spoke slowly, and Harry was so thankful for that. It was always hard to process anything after just waking up.

Harry knew that Tobi was probably right, but that didn't stop his internal disbelief. "He probably hates me. I did my best to be nice but I still managed to fuck it up." The ache returned to his heart and he shovelled the last forkful of cake into his mouth with a pout, cheeks puffing out as his eyebrows scowled inwards.

"I can promise you he doesn't hate you, but I think you'd be better off hearing that from him rather than me." Tobi replied kindly but sternly, taking the now empty plate and standing up to leave the room with a smile.

Flopping back down with a sigh, Harry considered his options. Tobi was right, he probably should go and talk with Simon to clear things up.

He eventually decided to avoid having the no doubt awkward conversation, and instead finally do his laundry.

***

Conveniently, the laundromat was only a block away, meaning Harry didn't have to lug the heavy black bin bag too far. Less conveniently, he opened the bag to notice that he'd forgotten to bring the detergent bottle with him. With a grimace, Harry popped a few coins into the vending machine, grabbing a box of off-brand laundry powder from the dispenser tray and pouring it into the machine. The overwhelming stench of the artificial cotton scent made him shudder, already hating the sensory nightmare that his wardrobe would become until the next wash.

With the machines spinning away, Harry found the chair in the furthest corner of the room and curled up on it, pulling out his phone, thankful that the place was empty- save for a single load tumbling around in a dryer on the other wall.

Engrossed in the documentary he was watching on his phone, Harry didn't notice the dryer eventually open, nor did he notice the owner of the laundry load trying to get his attention.

"Shit, sorry, I-" Harry looked up and froze. In front of him, Simon stood timidly folding his clothes, eyes on Harry.

"Oh, uh, hi," Harry murmured, tucking his legs in a little tighter out of nervousness.

"Hey, um, how are you doing?" Simon asked, seeming equally as nervous.

Harry swallowed. "Yeah, I'm... I'm okay." He replied weakly. There was a sharp contrast in Simon's demeanour compared to his suave confidence the night prior.

Simon took a breath. "Look, I'm really sorry about last night, I shouldn't have said that- even as a joke. I hope we can start over?" He spoke sincerely, and Harry could tell that he meant what he was saying.

"It's okay, it's not your fault." Was all he could manage. It was far easier than explaining why he'd reacted the way he did. He'd done enough of that over his life to know that sometimes it was simpler to just let it go, rather than to make someone feel bad about something they couldn't have known.

A few minutes of tense silence hung between them, Harry awkwardly going back to watching his documentary but finding he couldn't really concentrate on what was happening, barely taking anything in.

Eventually, Simon finished folding his clothes and took a step towards Harry. "What are you watching?" He asked tentatively.

Harry's eyes snapped up. "Oh uh, it's a documentary." He replied quietly, measuring his response so as not to info-bomb Simon. "A life on our planet... David Attenborough."

"Oh I don't think I've seen that one. I bet it's good though." Simon replied shyly.

Harry perked up almost immediately, any remaining animosity evaporating from the air in an instant. "What! You haven't seen it?" He exclaimed incredulously. "It's like, his most famous documentary literally ever!"

Simon blushed softly at the sudden rush of enthusiasm. "In that case, we should watch it together some time." He offered.

A huge smile spread across Harry's face, as if he'd just won the lottery. "Wait, really?" He exclaimed again, voice teetering on the edge of too loud.

"Of course." Simon smiled, much less cautiously this time.

Harry picked up his phone again and checked the time. "What are you doing tonight? You could come over and we'll have snacks and watch it?" He asked, and Simon genuinely almost cooed at his excitement.

"Sounds good to me, I'll bring the snacks." Simon smiled and for the first time in the last twenty four hours, Harry couldn't feel even a lick of anxiety- only pure excitement.