Letters To A Stranger

Won't you just hold me tonight?

"Dear Isak,

It is now Thursday. It's been five days since we've seen each other. And every day feels like an eternity.
I hate being without you.
It is such a consuming feeling, it's like your absence leaves a black gaping whole in my heart.
Worst of all, I don't even know if I'll ever get to hold you again. I don't know if I'll ever get to kiss you again.
Maybe you'll just run away when I tell you what has been keeping me home these last few days.
The thought of maybe losing you hurts me so much already. It's like I've finally found the piece of me that was missing all along when I met you.
And if I lose you, that part would be ripped out, leaving a wound that could never heal again.
Please don't ever leave me, Isak. I couldn't bear it.

The second I saw you for the first time, I felt something I have never felt  before. The first time I looked into those beautiful eyes of you, those eyes I could drown in every time I look into them, they captured my heart. They captured my heart, my soul and I just had to be near you, get to know you. So that's what i did.
And here we are now.
I would've never, ever expected to be this close to you one day. I would've never expected to touch you, hold you, feel our lips collide.
It still feels so unreal to me.
I just hope that I won't wake up one day and realize that everything was just a dream, just an imagination of my sick mind. -"

Even's writing was interrupted by the doorbell. Who would come over at 8 pm? His parents certainly wouldn't have any guests come over, Even thought to himself, as he got out of his bed and stuffed the letter carelessly into the cookie box.
Sneaking into the hallway, Even heard his mother quietly argue with someone, probably the person who rang the doorbell.

"No, I'm sorry, Even isn't in the condition to welcome any guests." his mother said in a strict tone.
"But I made homemade soup! If he's sick that'll make him feel better. Please, I need to see him, only for a few minutes!"
Even's heart stopped at the sound of Isak's voice. What was he doing here?
"Wait..you're Isak, right?" he heard his mother ask, curiosity in her voice.
Even heard nothing and suggested that Isak had answered with a nod.
"Okay, you can come in. But not for long and if he's asleep you'll leave again, alright?" his mother answered, her tone a little bit softer this time.
"Alright, thank you!" Isak answered and Even heard footsteps coming in his direction.

He didn't know what to do. His last shower was days ago and his hair looked like a bird's nest. If Isak saw him now, he would probably turn around and run out screaming.
Without further consideration, Even sprinted into the bathroom. Bent over the sink, he quickly splashed some water in his face, sprayed some deodorant onto his armpits and tamed his hair by combing it.
After one last look into the mirror, Even went back into his room.

At the sight of Isak, leaning against the ladder of his bed, a big, steaming pot of homemade soup in his hands, Even's heart began to pound like he had just run a marathon.
Isak's eyes were full of worry, as they slowly examined Even's appearance.

"Hey." Isak spoke up, after the two boys just stared at each other for a while, both unsure of what to do.
"Hey." Even responded, his voice a little bit scratchy. "What are you doing here?"
"I..uhm..I missed you." Isak said, as he made a few steps towards Even. His voice was a little bit shaky and Even noticed that the younger boy was really nervous.
"I missed you, too."

Even looked into Isak's eyes. It was true, he had really missed the boy.
So much in fact, that Even would give everything right now to jump into Isak's arms, bury his face in the crook of his neck and never come out again.
The look in Isak's eyes told Even that he had missed him just as much.
But Even knew that worry and longing weren't the only reasons why Isak was here. He wanted to know why Even acted so strange the last time they saw each other.
Even couldn't blame him for that, he would be confused as well if he were in his stead.