Heal the Heart

18.

I was at Deep and Krishna's place, watching a basketball match I couldn't care less about. I was just there for the nachos and Krishna's heavenly protein-infested guac dip. Krishna was probably the only one even invested in the game. He sat with his knees to his chest, remote in hand, spine bent in front of the TV. Deep was with me on the couch, legs outstretched on the coffee table, his attention switching between his phone and the game.

My phone buzzed and a quick glance showed me it was Beck.

Ever since he'd got my number—finally—he made it a point to remind me he had my number. Random texts in the middle of the night with statements that could rightly be classified as bathroom-shower thoughts.

This time he'd sent a picture of a sky high pile of laundry that settled on his couch with the end of the leather arms barely seen. Even the chairback was hidden. I spotted mostly a variety of hoodies, baseball jackets and jeans. Some seemed too big for his frame, though.

Christopher: I built a nest for myself

You: Nice way of saying you're too lazy to do laundry

Christopher: *gasps* How dare you speak the truth

Christopher: Off with your head

You: Oh please, kind sir, spare my empty head

Christopher: Since you asked so nicely

Christopher: Also, I'm a pro at laundry. My mom caught me by the neck one day and taught me.

Christopher: Tristan doesn't know. I taught him. But he thought it was just a suggestion and doesn't bother. He wears the same clothes every day until they plot a way to escape his lair.

I chuckled at my phone as the bubbles appeared once more.

Christopher: And our place starts smelling like something died

Christopher: To be fair, something did die

Christopher: My housemate's sense of hygiene. So, my benevolent heart does his laundry too.

Christopher: At least, he showers every day. Istg straight men think hygiene is an optional activity

I thought back to all the times Deep chased Krishna with a can of lavender air freshener to get him to go take a shower. These days Krishna just accepts the allergy-inducing spray like a badge of honour.

You: I'm with you on that. Why are they so gross?

Christopher: I'd be straight if I knew

Christopher: Praise the lord I'm not

You: LMAO

Christopher: OH GOD!

Christopher: I just found his sock and I think he's growing some sort of organism in there

Christopher: That's it. I'm moving. If I'm putting up with straight boy stench, might as well do it in a frat house where I get eye candy as a reward

I laughed so hard, I curled forward, stomping my feet on the floor. My lips clamped shut when my phone was snatched from my fingers. Deep had stood on the couch with my phone in his hand above his head.

"You," he pointed an accusatory finger at me, "have been smiling at your phone nonstop."

I jumped on the couch, my arms encircling him to reach for my phone as he hid it behind him. "Something called privacy, man." When I caught his arms and yanked, I found his hands empty.