In a Quiet Room

Tick. Tick. Tick. Skateboard stared at the clock on the far wall. Its second hand moved in spasm-like bursts, counting one after another. It was the only thing in the room that was moving; the only sign that indicated that time hadn’t completely frozen, and that the world moved as well. Still, it felt unreal. He had been rubbing his hand up and down his arm over and over, feeling the roughness of the bandages, so much so there was light fraying in the path of his fingers.

“Skate?”

He lifted his head from the floor, looking up at Boombox on the couch. Skateboard tried to focus on his face, but his eyes kept wandering back to the cast on his leg. It was bright white, even in the dark room. He wished it wasn’t so distracting.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Skateboard’s voice croaked awkwardly from not being used.

Boombox dangled a hand off the side of the couch towards him, “You haven’t really said anything, are you okay?”

He hesitated, looking at his hand. It was also covered in bandages, and the blood had seeped through, creating pink splotches on the top.

“You’re seriously asking me that question?” Delicately, he laced his fingers with Boombox’s.

“I am,” He replied casually, “why would I stop caring for you know?”

Skateboard squeezed his hand, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He didn’t respond, and the ticking filled the space once more in lieu of voice. The longer it lasted, the more oppressive it was, which made his heart beat faster. If only he could give him a straight answer. Skateboard could only wait so long, and Boombox could pretend forever. For a second it was hopeless, but then the second ended with the ticking of the hand.

“I’ll get you some water.” He slipped his hand from the other’s, using the couch to help himself stand up. Though, before he could get very far, Boombox gripped his wrist.

“You don’t have to do that,” He rushed.

Skateboard huffed, making a point to not look at his face. He couldn’t be swayed now. “Boombox, come on.”

“Please, just stay here. You…” Pausing to steady his voice, he finished quietly, “You can leave any other time, just not now.”

Skateboard’s chest felt like it was trying to not collapse on itself. Of course, he couldn’t leave him, why was he fooling himself?

“Okay.” He approached the side of the couch, “I-I’m right here, yeah?”

Boombox threw his arms around him, squeezing so hard he was afraid he might hurt himself. Skateboard yelped as he was pulled down to his level.

“Could you be a little bit more careful?” He pleaded.

The grip was released only slightly, but It was still uncomfortable to stand there, leaned over him. Maybe there was enough space to lay next to each other on the couch, if he wasn’t going to let go. It wasn’t weird if they were already this close. He hugged him tighter when they fell.

So, Skateboard gently nudged Boombox, silently asking him to move aside. Once there was space, he tentatively laid down. Skate was a skinny kid, yet even so, there wasn’t much room to have space between them. Consequently, they couldn’t look at much else besides each other’s faces, and the only places their arms could go were around each other. That was fine, he supposed. Boombox wasn’t hard to look at. He wasn’t hard to hold either.

“Thanks,” Boombox whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Skateboard whispered back.