Twelve

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I ran.

The night was falling apart. Only vacant eyes can see the world's beauty. I ran away from my house to someone's. I'm running and I feel like I know why.

I was desperate. Am I desperate?

It was cold. The night was cold. I didn't mind. I only want one thing right now, and that is not putting on my sweater. It was really fucking cold. I felt like my heart is slowly becoming cool as ice.

I reached my destination. The elevator was slow so I didn't take it. I went for the staircase. I ran again, as fast as I can. I didn't care whether the possibility of tripping is high.

I ran and ran and ran.

Then I reached the very familiar door. I knocked twice. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. I was about to knock again but the door swung open.

"Elliot?"

Tobias.

His hand is now bandaged. His eyes looked puffy, like he was just done crying. The brown color of his eyes was not wicked as it was before. But, it was still beautiful.

He was still beautiful.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. But I didn't answer because I didn't know what to answer. He stared at me for a long time and I stared at him for a long time.

"I—" What words can I say? "I wanted to see you."

"Why? Did something happen? Are you okay?" His face turned into worry. I should be the one worrying. Not him. Why was he worrying?

"No, nothing happened."

"Then what's the matter?" His tone was soft.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

He let me in and I walked to his familiar apartment. He closed the door behind. "Let's go to my room," he said. I followed him from behind and entered the another familiar room.

I closed the door. "Sorry for the mess. I was too lazy to clean up earlier." Tobias said. "But, I'll probably do it tomorrow." He smiled. His smile was sad.

My eyes wandered around his room. It wasn't the same like the first time I've been here. His shelf that contained 12 cameras looked untouched. The floor was messed up with a sea of scattered clothes. His bed was unmade.

"I don't mind."

If I know one person in this world who is organized and clean, besides my mom, it's Tobias. And seeing this mess in his room makes me believe that he is in a mess too.

"So, what's up with you?"

I looked at him. "I should be the one asking that."

He sighed. "Elliot, I told you. I'm okay."

He's lying. I know he is, and it's making me mad. I don't want to be mad. I don't want to be mad at him. "Shut up, Tobias. I know you're not." I said, my words felt bitter.

"How do you know I'm not? You're not me."

"I just know you're lying."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I just feel it."

"You can't just feel it." His voice was cold and scary.

"What if I can?"

"Bullshit."

We fell silent. And it's the silence that I hated. The silence that I didn't want to be in, yet here I am. "What it is it, Tobias?" I said, softly, trying to calm myself. Don't be mad. Don't be mad. Don't be mad. Don't be mad.

He didn't answer. "Is someone hurting you?" I asked again. Don't be mad. He's still not responding. "Tobias."

He wasn't responding. His body was trembling. He's scared. He looked like he's scared. Oh god, what did I do? I stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Then his eyes became watery.

No. No. Please don't cry.

"Tobias." I said, my tone was soft. But he still didn't answer, he didn't even look at me. It hurts. Why does it hurt?

I took a step forward, closer to him. I wanted to hug him. But he didn't feel like it, so I didn't. I only looked at him. What am I supposed to do?

He's breaking down. I said to myself that I wanted to be with him when he needs me.

I don't think he needs me now. But I wanted to be by his side. He was hurt. Both inside and outside. And I can't take it anymore, I can't stand seeing the person I care about being hurt. My feet took a step closer and I wrapped my arms around him.

I was hugging Tobias, warm and compact.

It didn't take long for him to hug me back, his arms locking around my waist, his head lowering to lean on my shoulder.

And then he was crying.

The world has collapsed on him and he was carrying it alone. The Tobias that I knew—the smiling, cocky, flirty, weird Tobias—was gone. It was replaced by a new one and I didn't like it.

He was sobbing on my shoulders. "It's okay," I whispered. "You're going to be okay." His hands gripped tightly on my shirt. I let him cry on my shoulders because I wanted him to be okay.

I hugged him more tight, not wanting to let him collapse. And if in case he does, my arms will be there to hold him back. I wanted him to know that I'm here and will always be.

That he is safe and sound in my shoulders.

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