Listen, Obey

8. Eight Lesson

I ran a sweaty palm across my face. What the hell is he doing here? 

"Ethan, open the door." Matthews knocked again, more insistently this time. 

"Go away." I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I couldn't imagine anything worse than letting him inside. 

"Look, I'm not here to force you to do anything." Yeah right.

"Then why are you here?" I knew I shouldn't engage in conversation at all, but it was hard to avoid it completely. 

"Because you have a seriously persistent friend." I heard him chuckle, and a mental image of Lisa standing above him where he sat in his Chesterfield chair--jutting her finger back and forth while lecturing him--made me chuckle as well. It came out of nowhere.

"She refused to give the coat back unless I came and took you for a coffee."

I snorted with laughter. I couldn't rein it in. "Let me guess, she's holding it hostage." 

"She is. Quite a friend you've got there." 

I was surprised at how casual he sounded. There was nothing of that domineering attitude in the lilt his voice, he just sounded like a normal guy who had a laugh over something silly and awkward.

"I can call her and tell her we had coffee. That should sort things out." 

"She said you would say that." Damn. She was too clever sometimes. 

"Then you're not getting your coat back." I don't know why I said that. I paled immediately. It was a joke, but when did I ever crack jokes at men who could shred me to pieces? 

To my relief, I could hear another soft laughter on the other side. It washed over me like a warm summer rain. I didn't know how to react. I just knew it felt good, even if I didn't want him to affect me like that. 

"Ethan, I'd like to grab a coffee to placate that friend of yours." 

I ran through my options. It wouldn't kill me to say yes, and it wasn't like I had anything important to do. I should get a job, but I wouldn't get one from here--I had to get out somehow. Who knew, if he went with me somewhere, I might get a shot at a job at the café since he looked so respectable and everything. In fact, I had nothing to lose. Besides, if he continued to laugh like that, it might not be so bad. 

My hand moved to the chain before I had the time to think things through a second time. I knew I would regret the decision if I thought about it too much. 

The chain fell against the door with a soft rattle. Matthews didn't say a thing on the other side, and I assumed he was on his toes just like I was. Or perhaps he wasn't. Why would he be nervous? I shook the thoughts away as I turned the handle. 

The door swung outwards and he became visible. He was taller than I remembered, but somehow he looked less intimidating. Perhaps it was the casual clothes. He wore a cute beanie and soft-looking mittens. 

"It's cold as hell outside, that blanket won't help you," he said, and his rosy cheeks told the same story. 

"I'll grab a jacket." I was about to close the door when I realized that I would just lock it in his face if I did that. I had come this far already; I shouldn't make it harder for me now. 

Turning my back on him was one of the hardest things I'd done in a long time. He might look deceivingly innocent like that, but I knew better. What was I thinking? I struggled forward to get out of his sight. Why did I let him him? I wanted to swear, turn around and physically push him out again. 

I closed the bedroom door behind me, sitting down on the floor with my back to the door; breathing hard. My pulse was racing. I clenched and un-clenched my fists, trying to regain some focus. I even dug my nails into my palms in hope that the mild pain would bring me out of the chaos. 

It didn't help. Every breath became more and more shallow. He's in here...he'll kill me. I knew it was panic speaking as well as the lingering paranoia after a life with drugs.

Hugging my knees, I heard Matthews step inside the apartment. Every thud of his boots across the floor sent a jolt of fear through me. 

"Ethan?" 

I couldn't answer, my throat was too tight. Even if I wanted to yell at him to get out, I couldn't. 

He didn't say anything else, and to my relief he didn't step closer. Again, I focused on breathing. 

"This is Matthews. He's disappeared into his bedroom."

What's going on? I realized he must be on his phone, but who would he call? 

"Okay, I'll leave him alone then. I'll come back later." He paused, probably listening to the person on the other side. "No, I'll come back." 

There was another pause, and I waited for something to happen.

"Ethan, I'll leave for a bit. Lisa is coming. Just hang on until she's here." 

I couldn't answer this time either, but the panic dissipated slightly. Just knowing that he would go calmed me down. He said he would come back, but there was no way I would let him inside again. 

I knew Lisa would be coming, and for the first time, I wished that she was here to calm me down. I wanted her to explain what the fuck was happening to me. Perhaps they could take me back to the clinic for a while. Obviously I wasn't handling things. I was a mess. A pathetic mess. 

Matthews boots sounded across the floor again, but this time they moved away until they were gone, punctuated by the sound of the door closing behind him. 

Finally. 

I slumped to the floor, exhausted, and just staring up at the white ceiling. 

Pathetic.