Hello You

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Despite being really ill, Alex slept better than he had in a long time. There was something comforting about sleeping under the same roof as Miles – it was the first time in eighteen months, and he felt a peace he hadn't felt in a long time. Alex wasn't sure if he was dreaming, but in the middle of the night, he was sure he opened his eyes and Miles was standing in the doorway, but he was delirious and knew it was quite possible he was hallucinating.

When he awoke properly, the room was light, and as he sat up, his head spun slightly. He looked on the bedside cabinet and saw there was indeed another bottle of Evian and a box of Panadol. He hadn't been imagining Miles at all.

He took two tablets and finished the bottle of water. His throat was sore and his stomach hurt. He felt an idiot for eating that bloody kebab last night. It had ruined everything. When he'd got the invitation from Clara, he'd made up his mind to go to the exhibition – even though he didn't feel like socialising, but he'd guessed Miles would be there and he was determined to see him and talk to him. He'd even had his hair cut that morning. For months he'd let it go and it was out of condition and scruffy; but he remembered how much Miles loved his hair when it was layered and fluffy, so he'd spent a small fortune at a hairdresser in Mayfair who conditioned and cut and layered his hair until it was glossy and lovely. And he'd ended the evening covered in sick!

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Talking made it feel like razor blades were slicing open his throat. The door opened and Miles came in with a mug in his hand. He looked cosy and cute in his Fair Isle jumper and jeans.

"I've brought you some black tea with lemon."

He sat on the bed, and Alex could see the annoyance in his eyes. Miles was kind, and would never push him away, but Alex could tell he didn't really want him here. And he perfectly understood why.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

"Terrible. I'm so sorry, Mi. I'll go as soon as I feel a bit better. What's the time now?"

"Nearly one o'clock. Stay there till you feel better. You might want to go back to the hotel tonight, though. Boris is making an announcement about lockdown at seven o'clock. Seems like it's gonna start tomorrow."

"Okay, thanks Mi."

"Drink that lemon. It'll help your throat."

Miles got up and left the room.

Alex waited until he heard Miles go downstairs before getting up to use the bathroom. The floor felt as though it was moving and it made him queasy. Even the short journey to the bathroom across the hall to relieve his aching bladder was enough to exhaust him, and he collapsed back into bed.

The next time he woke up, it was because his phone was vibrating in his jeans pocket. He took it out and saw it was nearly five o'clock, and the message was from his mum, asking if he was able to get back to Sheffield before lockdown was imposed. He messaged her back, assuring her he would be fine at the hotel and the pandemic would probably be over quickly anyway.

In truth he had mixed feelings about it. The enforced solitude would help his songwriting, but it would also delay his reconciliation with Miles, and right now, that was as important to him as delivering a new Arctic Monkeys album.

He got out of bed, and the room didn't spin, so that was an improvement. He left the room and heard Miles downstairs watching a film on TV.

"Mi can I have a shower and borrow a shirt? This one's got sick on it."

"Sure, bring it down and I'll stick it in the wash."

Alex smiled. Miles could be such a housewife at times. On the occasions they'd lived together, he always revelled in the domestic things.