I lie in bed, staring at the wall, feeling the hollowness in my chest expand as if fed by the burning silence that fills the room. People skip down the hallway excitedly, doors slamming. Laughter and youth fill the building to the brim.
Someone bangs very loudly on the door. I close my eyes. I clutch my phone close to my chest.
"Kat, open the door. Please." His voice makes my no-longer-existent heart spasm. So much like his. "He taught me how to pick locks."
I let Gabriel pick the lock.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight when the door opens because he looks almost exactly like his elder brother and I don't think they could take it.
"Aw, Katherine," he says, softly. He kicks off his shoes, then he's lowering himself onto the bed beside me, on top of the comforter. He sighs in a sad way.
Without asking, or indicating, he wraps his arm around me and holds me close, my back against his chest. My best friend, his brother.
"It'll be okay," he whispers into my hair, his hands finding mine beneath the covers and lacing tight. "I miss him too."
*******
Hey hormales you'll slay at school tomorrow (: and also, I'll snap you when I'm not drowning/swimming up hill in physics xxoooxxoooo
YOU ARE READING
Conversations From Afar
Historia CortaSEQUEL TO BALCONIAL CONVERSATIONS | In which Katherine and Cambriel suffer the ups and downs of a long distance relationship | Wattys 2016 | cover by the fabulous @kdkellow
