Closer

'Yes. Please come up.'

It was the text I was waiting for. I ran to the elevator and hit the button a thousand times, willing the elevator to come faster. The ride up felt like an eternity.

I stepped out and ran toward the door- trying to decide if I should knock or ring the bell. But why was I worrying about that? I should be more worried about what I was going to say... what did one say in this situation? Could I be strong enough for him? I tried to swallow my fears and lightly tapped on the door. The wait was painful.

He pulled the door slowly open. My heart lurched at the sight of his face. The hurt and confusion I could see in it... I never wanted to see a face like that again. Especially on him. We fell into a hug.
"I'm so sorry..."
My whispering was cut short by his grip. It was like a vice. We stayed in that-motionless for a few minutes before slowly pulling away. I searched his eyes but couldn't see the usual spark in them. I glanced into the room. His room mates were huddled close by the window, sharing a forbidden smoke and talking in hushed voices.
"You wanna talk?"
He shrugged.
"Come on."
I slipped my hand into his and led him back to his room. He flopped down on his bed in some emotional coma. I climbed next to him and wrapped my arms tight around him- wishing I could take the pain away. It was only until he turned around and burrowed closer that I felt like I was helping at all.

We stayed there wrapped in each other. Murmurings about death and why and us sometimes escaped our lips. But the silence and closeness of our bodies was comforting enough for anything else. Hours crept by. His room mate finally peeked in to ask if he could head to bed. We slowly unfurled and floated toward the door.

We carried on with that same closeness for a week or two. But the worry started to creep across his face and seep into his eyes. The worry that it was for the wrong reasons. The worry that he would hurt me. Slowly but surely he built his high walls up again... this time with no kinks in them.