Scomiche Short-Story Drafts (Purplechick's Unfinished Thoughts)

Draft 13- Vampire

Written in 2018

When you know someone for over a decade and then proceed to move in with them, a lack of privacy and secrecy should be expected. Trying to hide something from the other person is just about pointless. So, why did Mitch think he could successfully do it? And for more than a few days, at that.

Scott noticed immediately, even if he hadn't mentioned it right away. He had heard Mitch come in late that night, staggering footsteps traveling through their home, and was already sitting up in case he had to do some damage control. At the sound of something crashing and breaking, the footsteps paused and Scott got up to investigate.

Thankfully, Mitch was alone. He was making his way up the steps while rubbing at his ears, a noticeable grimace on his face. Scott figured that the younger man had to be either tired out of his mind, or drunk, considering how late it was to be coming in knocking shit over. Speaking of which, their potted plant that sat on the first stair-landing was now shattered at Mitch's bare feet, but he didn't seem to realize it. He kept walking up the steps like it wasn't a big deal.

"Hey, Babe. You okay?" Scott asked in a normal, night appropriate octave, but Mitch's hands shot over his ears and he hissed. He stopped on the step below Scott and kept his head down as he mumbled for him to quit yelling. So, Scott whispered in confusion, "I'm not yelling. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Mitch murmured quickly. Then, he continued up the stairs.

Not a minute later, Scott heard his best friend's bedroom door softly open and close, signaling the end of their interaction for the rest of the night. He sighed to himself and got to cleaning up the broken pot and spilled dirt. Mitch got a little weird on him sometimes, mostly when he was stressed or annoyed, but what he just witnessed didn't sit right with him, at all. As soon as he put the broom away he went to check on his other half, only to find that the door was locked. And after the eighth soft tap on the wood it became obvious that the brunette was not about to open it.

Scott sent off a text as a last resort but Mitch never responded...

The next few days that followed were strange between them. Mitch was distant, and not just emotionally or in a social manner, but physically. He avoided Scott as if his life depended on it. It was so bad that he didn't even come out of his room to eat. Scott ended up leaving him meals outside of his door just to ensure he wouldn't starve. The blonde thought that he could relax a bit when he noticed that Mitch took them, but he doubted that his friend kept any of it down. Scott could hear him retching after every bag, plate, or container that he delivered and it ticked him off that he couldn't even comfortingly rub Mitch's back through it all.

He must have a flu or something that he didn't want Scott to catch. As if the man minded getting sick if it meant being able to aid the younger one.

The oldest of the two eventually found himself on the ground outside of Mitch's room, begging Mitch to just talk to him and let him fix whatever was wrong. His brain was drawing all sorts of conclusions that made him sick to his stomach when he tried to figure out what was going on. Scott wasn't used to whatever it was that was disturbing their relationship. He wasn't used to not hearing Mitch's voice or not seeing his smile, or holding him at least twice a day when they were in the same vicinity.

He just wanted his bestie back.

It was around the seventh day when Mitch sought him out instead. Scott hadn't left the house for long periods of time since that first night, so he was sitting on the couch with his phone in hand when Mitch silently approached him. Somehow, Scott felt his presence and he snapped his eyes to the corner of the room. His stomach dropped instantly. Mitch was obviously sick; there were blue-grey rings beneath his eyes, his cheeks were hollow and his skin was almost a powdery white. And his chest slightly heaved like he couldn't catch his breath.