My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Twenty Three

23:59

00:00

Ring, ring. Ring.

"Ello?" 

"Happy birthday to Lou, happy birthday to Lou, happy birthday to Lou, happy birthday to Lou," I sing down the phone— sitting cross legged on my bed, duvet wrapped around my shoulders like a heavy cape. 

I hear Louis giggle softly, sighing. "Those aren't the lyrics," he states, smile in his voice. 

I roll my eyes. "It's called a remix, Lou, my version is ten times better."

"Course it is. How's you?" he asks.

I pick at a loose thread on my left pink fluffy sock. "Alright. Missing you guys, of course."

"Obviously, why wouldn't you miss me and my greatness?" he sasses and I bite the pillow of my lip. 

"You're so up your own arse," I mumble and he laughs outright. 

"Oi! Rather be up your's."

I beat red at that joke. "Get anything for your birthday?" I ask, averting the conversation entirely.

I can hear him shuffling on the other end, sounding like the duvet crinkling from above him, and I'd do anything right now just to see him all snuggled up under his blankets with his Christmas pyjama set. 

"It's not even morning, Harold, what makes you think anyone would give me a present just yet? They're all sleeping. Did you get me anything?" he asks lightly.

The answer is no. Not yet anyway, me and mum are going out in the morning to get him something and for last minute Christmas bits. Instead, I reply with a, "Of course I did, love, what makes you think I wouldn't?"

"That's the right answer, Harold... I miss you."

I move so that I'm laying on my side, phone perched beside me on loud speaker, head on the pillow, my hair pooling over the cotton like soft vines creeping up a wall. "I miss you, too, but we only have just under two weeks now 'til we see each other again." 

I hope we can live without each other. Jesus Christ, we've only known each other for a mere three to four months, I can't believe we suddenly can't breathe without each other. 

"Well, Curly, thank you for the birthday song remix, I'll make sure I put a word in for Capital FM so that it'll become the next number one. But for now, I'm gonna head off to bed, you have no idea how hectic it gets here on Christmas. Like, the girls will not settle, they're going to be waking me up at, like, six, you just watch." 

"Goodnight, Lou," I whisper. 

"Goodnight, Hazza. Sweet dreams, love. I'll text you in the morning and pry into what you got me."

"I am not saying a word," I protest, sticking my nose up in the air from where I lay, smile toying my lips.

"You will," he decides determinedly. "Bye."

I bite my tongue so I don't let a simple I love you from slipping. He hangs up and I pop my phone on the bedside table— feeling the scratch on the polished wood from where I got bored once and wanted to see if safety scissors would cause any damage to it. It did with some pressure. 

I sigh through my nose, burying my head into the pillow, a small meow coming from the box in the corner where Squeak and Dusty sleep. They've made it a thing now, sleeping in that box at night, curled up together. I just wish it was me and Lou sleeping like that. I miss his body heat and clean natural scent that reminds me of bubble bath and soft white blankets.