Redial.
1/1.
The bed was cold.
Danny pulled the covers up around himself, shielding his eyes from the dark corners. The only source of light was the moonbeams refracting off the snow-coated window-ledge outside and into his room, casting pallid pools of brightness over the carpet. The icy air seemed to be forcing its way through slight cracks and crevices in the woodwork just to get to the curled up figure under the quilt, who shivered in response. He was determined not to open his eyes.
But the night laboured on and still he couldn’t sleep, not even with Tom beside him. His mind refused to switch off and his body didn’t want to stay still. He rubbed his frozen feet together in an attempt to warm them, cursing the broken central heating system, and buried himself even further down into the mattress. Tom’s arms snaked round his midriff and Danny felt a little better, soothed by the thought of his best friend in the world being pressed close to him.
The night outside turned angry. Lightening illuminated the room for a split second as a close roar of thunder accompanied it, making Danny’s eyes flicker open in curiosity. He realised his mistake and clenched them shut again, clutching the pillowcase in his hands. He knew he shouldn’t have done that but the flash and the rumbling had startled him, and so he had to attempt to settle down again before it got out of hand. He tried to relax, trying desperately to control his breathing. In, out. In, out. Calmly - that was the key.
After a few minutes he remembered Tom’s arms, snaking round him to press his palms to Danny’s spine. The image of his softly smiling face came into his mind behind his closed, tired eyes, and Danny’s muscles relaxed into the mattress. He allowed himself to focus on the creases made in the skin by Tom’s brown eyes as he grinned, also forming that distinctive single dimple on his left cheek that he loved to touch. He lingered on his messy mop of light hair before venturing back to his eyes, feeling so lucky that he was able to look this close into them.
Tom closed those eyes, and Danny sighed in an almost content manner. He could have lain in Tom’s arms forever, he decided, as long as he got to watch him. The image in Danny’s head shifted, as he often did in sleep, and Danny grew increasingly drowsier. His eyelids now seemed too heavy to ever open again – and this suited him just fine. He longed to whisper to Tom before he slipped fully into his unconscious state, feeling a sudden urgency to tell him something important.
“I love you.”
The words left his lips in no more than a soft breath and he extended his hand out, wanting to cup Tom’s soft cheek and run a thumb over that dimple – but his palm touched nothing but cold air.
All the oxygen in Danny’s lungs seemed to leave him at once and immediately he felt as though his ribcage was going to crush his organs. In, out, in out, Tom’s voice echoed in his head, but it was no use. His pulse picked up unnaturally quickly as his head started to spin, and he opened his eyes to stare at nothing but a dark, empty room.
Calm down. Dougie and Harry are on the floor above you, Tom told him, but Danny had already cast off the bed covers and wrenched open the door. The message repeated itself over and over as Danny flew raucously down the stairs, not caring if he woke his flatmates, but the voice was fading in his mind and it just wasn’t enough anymore. He fumbled for the door knob and the soles of his feet slapped on the chilled linoleum of the kitchen, carrying him uncoordinatedly over to the sink. He felt his ribcage crash against the sideboard, and violently gripped the hard metal. He shuddered and hung over the basin, his head spinning, reaching desperately for the phone. He somehow managed to dial the right number through his spinning vision, one hand gripping his tangled brunette curls as he propped himself up with an elbow.
“Hi, you’ve reached Tom – oi, Danny, get off me! I can’t answer my mobile, so you know the drill…”
The nausea immediately started to creep away at the sound of the jovial laughter ringing down the phone, just as it always did. The instructions on how to breathe suddenly made sense and Danny’s lungs expanded automatically, his brain receiving oxygen and controlling the lightheaded sensation he had been feeling. A long beep sounded in his ear and he pressed the red button on the handset, his thumb then furiously working to press in the same number again. Each time he heard the voice with his eyes shut, it bewilderingly eased the pain – because if Danny could hear Tom, he had to still be here, hadn’t he? And if he was here, he wasn’t lost forever, and Danny was not alone.
“Danny?”
A palm slapped down over his other ear and he scrunched his eyelids tighter, wanting to hear only the one voice in the receiver and nobody else’s. He exhaled deeply as the message finished and redialled again, staring into nothing but the back of his eyelids. He could feel his whole body quake but concentrated only on Tom’s words, the phrase he’d had memorised since two weeks ago. The arm pinned to the side of his head shook, until something warm touched it. Startled, he turned his head and stared into Harry’s worried blue eyes – and in the moment that his friend saw him like this for the first time, his heart grew cold again. The hand holding the phone dropped limply to his side, and his thorax began to shudder.
The presence of another human being, one that was not a figment of Danny’s imagination to keep his pain away, could not deny the fact that his efforts were futile. Harry was standing solidly in front of him, one real hand still on his arm, and Tom was not. He could never be – and no amount of calls to his answer phone was ever going to bring him back to anybody.
The phone in Danny’s hand was broken into pieces against the wall in a second, and he backed away from his startled friend, eyes wide. His back hit the cupboard and he shrank against it, sinking to the floor as tears rolled over his chest. He curled away from Harry’s outstretched hand, seeing only Tom’s face in his head. He wanted Harry to leave. No matter who was in the room with him, he would still be alone - because they weren’t Tom.
Danny was still shaking when the morning sunlight broke through the kitchen window.
Danny pulled the covers up around himself, shielding his eyes from the dark corners. The only source of light was the moonbeams refracting off the snow-coated window-ledge outside and into his room, casting pallid pools of brightness over the carpet. The icy air seemed to be forcing its way through slight cracks and crevices in the woodwork just to get to the curled up figure under the quilt, who shivered in response. He was determined not to open his eyes.
But the night laboured on and still he couldn’t sleep, not even with Tom beside him. His mind refused to switch off and his body didn’t want to stay still. He rubbed his frozen feet together in an attempt to warm them, cursing the broken central heating system, and buried himself even further down into the mattress. Tom’s arms snaked round his midriff and Danny felt a little better, soothed by the thought of his best friend in the world being pressed close to him.
The night outside turned angry. Lightening illuminated the room for a split second as a close roar of thunder accompanied it, making Danny’s eyes flicker open in curiosity. He realised his mistake and clenched them shut again, clutching the pillowcase in his hands. He knew he shouldn’t have done that but the flash and the rumbling had startled him, and so he had to attempt to settle down again before it got out of hand. He tried to relax, trying desperately to control his breathing. In, out. In, out. Calmly - that was the key.
After a few minutes he remembered Tom’s arms, snaking round him to press his palms to Danny’s spine. The image of his softly smiling face came into his mind behind his closed, tired eyes, and Danny’s muscles relaxed into the mattress. He allowed himself to focus on the creases made in the skin by Tom’s brown eyes as he grinned, also forming that distinctive single dimple on his left cheek that he loved to touch. He lingered on his messy mop of light hair before venturing back to his eyes, feeling so lucky that he was able to look this close into them.
Tom closed those eyes, and Danny sighed in an almost content manner. He could have lain in Tom’s arms forever, he decided, as long as he got to watch him. The image in Danny’s head shifted, as he often did in sleep, and Danny grew increasingly drowsier. His eyelids now seemed too heavy to ever open again – and this suited him just fine. He longed to whisper to Tom before he slipped fully into his unconscious state, feeling a sudden urgency to tell him something important.
“I love you.”
The words left his lips in no more than a soft breath and he extended his hand out, wanting to cup Tom’s soft cheek and run a thumb over that dimple – but his palm touched nothing but cold air.
All the oxygen in Danny’s lungs seemed to leave him at once and immediately he felt as though his ribcage was going to crush his organs. In, out, in out, Tom’s voice echoed in his head, but it was no use. His pulse picked up unnaturally quickly as his head started to spin, and he opened his eyes to stare at nothing but a dark, empty room.
Calm down. Dougie and Harry are on the floor above you, Tom told him, but Danny had already cast off the bed covers and wrenched open the door. The message repeated itself over and over as Danny flew raucously down the stairs, not caring if he woke his flatmates, but the voice was fading in his mind and it just wasn’t enough anymore. He fumbled for the door knob and the soles of his feet slapped on the chilled linoleum of the kitchen, carrying him uncoordinatedly over to the sink. He felt his ribcage crash against the sideboard, and violently gripped the hard metal. He shuddered and hung over the basin, his head spinning, reaching desperately for the phone. He somehow managed to dial the right number through his spinning vision, one hand gripping his tangled brunette curls as he propped himself up with an elbow.
“Hi, you’ve reached Tom – oi, Danny, get off me! I can’t answer my mobile, so you know the drill…”
The nausea immediately started to creep away at the sound of the jovial laughter ringing down the phone, just as it always did. The instructions on how to breathe suddenly made sense and Danny’s lungs expanded automatically, his brain receiving oxygen and controlling the lightheaded sensation he had been feeling. A long beep sounded in his ear and he pressed the red button on the handset, his thumb then furiously working to press in the same number again. Each time he heard the voice with his eyes shut, it bewilderingly eased the pain – because if Danny could hear Tom, he had to still be here, hadn’t he? And if he was here, he wasn’t lost forever, and Danny was not alone.
“Danny?”
A palm slapped down over his other ear and he scrunched his eyelids tighter, wanting to hear only the one voice in the receiver and nobody else’s. He exhaled deeply as the message finished and redialled again, staring into nothing but the back of his eyelids. He could feel his whole body quake but concentrated only on Tom’s words, the phrase he’d had memorised since two weeks ago. The arm pinned to the side of his head shook, until something warm touched it. Startled, he turned his head and stared into Harry’s worried blue eyes – and in the moment that his friend saw him like this for the first time, his heart grew cold again. The hand holding the phone dropped limply to his side, and his thorax began to shudder.
The presence of another human being, one that was not a figment of Danny’s imagination to keep his pain away, could not deny the fact that his efforts were futile. Harry was standing solidly in front of him, one real hand still on his arm, and Tom was not. He could never be – and no amount of calls to his answer phone was ever going to bring him back to anybody.
The phone in Danny’s hand was broken into pieces against the wall in a second, and he backed away from his startled friend, eyes wide. His back hit the cupboard and he shrank against it, sinking to the floor as tears rolled over his chest. He curled away from Harry’s outstretched hand, seeing only Tom’s face in his head. He wanted Harry to leave. No matter who was in the room with him, he would still be alone - because they weren’t Tom.
Danny was still shaking when the morning sunlight broke through the kitchen window.