Chapter 4 (I want your concern)

Mitchel

The song never stopped playing.

He felt like his head was being rattled. Like his brain was in someone's hands, and they were giving it a good shake. One minute he was out and the next, his eyes flew open and he tried to get up. 

Of course that didn't work, though. He felt dizzy for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and it was really starting to get old."Shit," Mitchel mumbled. 

"He's awake!" He heard someone call, and when he looked up, he saw it was his best friend. "Kras-?" Mitchel asked. The blond man looked down at him with concerned eyes. "What happened?" 

And then he remembered. "Oh, God. Did she tell you?" "Tell me what? You passed out, man. Molly saw it. Said you hit your head pretty bad.""Am I bleeding?"  His voice had returned to it's normal tune, and all hysteria had left it when he figured out that Christian didn't have a clue. 

He was vaguely aware of the fact that he'd been moved, and was now laying on a couch."No, but we're gonna take you to the doctor. You bumped your head," Christian said. "Don't bother," Mitchel told him. "It's just gonna be a pointless bill."

Christian turned around and handed him a glass of water, telling him to drink it. The cold ice sloshed around the clear liquid as Mitchel took it. It ran down the side of the glass, dripping onto Mitchel's pajama shirt.  "Come on, Mitch. We've gotta make sure you're okay," Christian told him. 

Hearing such concern in his voice is what caused Mitchel to cave in. It warmed his heart to know that there was still some bit of Christian that cared about him. Some times it felt like he didn't and all he cared about was Molly. 

Christian laced his fingers with Mitchel and helped him into his car. Molly drove while Christian sat in the back with him. Mitchel leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes, unable to contain his smile. 

+++

"He'll be okay," The doctor said, looking at his clipboard. Mitchel sat on the raised examination bed, his best friend across the tiny room and sitting on a small fold out chair. "We'll get the test results back to you in a few days, but from what I see, it wasn't anything internal that caused the reaction."

Though the doctor was talking to him, Mitchel couldn't help but keep his gaze fixed on Christian's concerned face. He couldn't get enough of it. "Wait, so you're saying it just randomly happened? Does that mean it will it happen again?" Christian asked. His tone was filled with annoyance and worry. 

"No, not quite. What happened isn't uncommon. It's a simple case of Vasovagal Syncope. To put it simply, Mr. Cave, your body overreacted to a trigger. Judging by your recollection of what happened, it was an emotional trigger, and your blood pressure dropped suddenly. Topping that off with the fact that you haven't eaten in a few days... it was bound to happen." He explained, setting down his clipboard on his desk. 

A pile of loose papers toppled over from the table after the clipboard knocked them over. They scattered all over the tiled floor. Mitchel heard the doctor swear to himself as he watched him bend to pick them up. Christian made no move to help. Instead, he bounced his knee and watched the doctor scramble to pick up the sheets. The doctor sat down in his chair a few moments later. 

"I won't prescribe you any medication unless this happens again," He told them after he got himself situated. Finally, Christian looked up at Mitchel with sad eyes. "Mitch... you haven't eaten?" He asked quietly. Mitchel felt his heart flutter. Was it normal to feel this giddy, knowing that your best friend was so concerned? Mitchel figured that it was. Still, he couldn't help but feel guilty. 

Eating had been the last thing on his mind the past few days. Sometimes, he couldn't even bring himself to do so. Only that morning did he feel hungry and of course, with Mitchel's luck, it happened to be the day his body gave out. He knew he'd have to be more careful. There was no sense in making his best friend worry about him for no reason even though it made him happy. 

"I meant to eat, but I couldn't find the time," He said. "But I offered to cook for you today," Christian replied. Mitchel pursed his lips and reluctantly looked at the doctor.   

"Is that all?" He asked, standing up. The doctor stood too. "All I suggest is that you try to eat three meals a day. Make sure to eat iron-rich food, and avoid thinking about things that worry you. Avoid talking to people that stress you out if possible. If that doesn't work, then I'd recommend getting a therapist. If you'd like, Mitchel, I can refer a few.""I think I'll hold off with that for now," Mitchel relied quickly. "Thank you, Doctor."

The three of them said their goodbyes, then headed out. Mitchel and Christian found Molly who sat in the dull and colorless waiting area reading a magazine about foot funguses. "Ever heard of epider-mophy-ton floc-cos-um?" Molly asked when she saw the two. Christian couldn't help but laugh as his girlfriend put down the magazine. "Hey! It's no laughing matter. Anyways," She said, shifting her gaze to Mitchel. "How'd it go?" 

Mitchel avoided the question. "Are you guys hungry? I'm supposed to eat," He said. The couple followed him out of the office after Christian paid the bill. 

+ + +

On the car ride home Christian drove, and Molly rode next to her boyfriend in the passenger seat. In the back of the car, Mitchel picked at his chicken sandwich. He listened to Kras and Molly chatter in the front, occasionally stealing glances at each other and breaking out into giggles. 

As wholesome as the sight was, it stirred an ick in his stomach. He wasn't hungry anymore. Mitchel leaned forward when the couple's conversation died down. "Hey," He said hesitantly. "Sorry that this all happened. I didn't mean to worry you guys and I'm sure that you had a whole day planned out. I didn't mean to screw up your plans." 

Christian turned around to look at Mitchel when they stopped at a red light. He hated the look that he gave him: a mixture of pity and sadness. Mitchel never wanted to see it again, but he was sure that he would. 

"Don't worry about it, Mitch. That's what friends are for. We're just glad that you're okay," He said. Molly offered Mitchel a small smile. "And the day's not over," she told him. "At least we spent time with you." 

Mitchel picked at the skin around his nails and sat back in his seat. "Oh," he said. "That makes me feel a lot better." 

That was a lie of course, and it surprised Mitchel how easy lying to his best friend was getting. He looked out of the car window for the rest of the ride home, watching the trees and pedestrians as they drove by. 

+ + +

At around 6:30 pm, Mitchel sat on Christian's bed and watched as the tall blond pulled his t-shirt off and over his head. Christian turned around and opened his closet, Mitchel watching the smooth muscles in his back move as he shifted. 

"Should I go with the blue or the red?" Christian asked, holding up two almost identical dress shirts. "I don't know, choose whichever one you like." Mitchel told him. Christian looked at himself in his mirror, then tried on both. "Come on, Mitty. You're like, the fashion icon in this house," He told him. This made Mitchel smile. He pointed at the shirt in Christian's right hand, saying, "Go with the red. It makes your skin look nice." 

Christian returned Mitchel's smile, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He then moved to pick out a pair of black shorts.  

It was times like this when Mitchel felt complete. There he was, sitting on his best friend's bed, talking casually with his favorite person. The scene was perfectly mundane, but that was fine. The two of them thought of nothing other than each other, and that was all Mitchel needed. 

"So why are you getting dressed up?" Mitchel asked. Christian tucked his shirt into the shorts, looked in the mirror again, paused, and then untucked it. He glanced at Mitchel for help. 

Sighing, Mitchel made his way to the edge of the bed, hooking his finger around one of the belt loops in Christian's pants. He brought his best friend closer and skillfully tucked in a portion of the shirt. 

"What? I thought it was obvious. Goin' out on a date with Molly," Christian replied. 

Boom. There it was. The moment was destroyed. Mitchel's content smile drooped immediately. His hands faltered, and he thanked the Gods that Christian was too busy rolling up his sleeves to see his expression. 

"Oh," Mitchel cleared his throat and tried to keep his tone light. "Again?" He asked, because the couple was just out the day before. Even when Mitchel dated, he'd at least wait a day until the next time he met someone. But he knew that Christian was different from him. Molly too.

Christian chuckled and said, "Well, she is my girlfriend." Mitchel let go of the blond man's shirt and looked at his hands. The skin around his nails was ripped and a little bloody from all of his picking. It was a nervous habit, and he couldn't seem to break it no matter how much his mother tried to stop him. He picked at it then. 

"Right. Yeah, sorry." Mitchel cleared his throat and felt a stinging sensation on his middle finger. He could feel his throat closing up even though he kept clearing it. It was all in his head, Mitchel knew, but it felt too real. Still, he tried to speak in a neutral tone. "I just thought we could do something together. Alone, I mean. B'cause we haven't done anything in a while. Watch something maybe." He tried. 

"Oh," Christian said, turning around and looking at Michel. He felt his heart squeeze. "I made reservations, so maybe we can hang some other time." He lightly ran his fingers through his hair. Mitchel watched, unblinking. And then, "Oh. Yeah. Right, some other time," He said, feeling a deep red blush stain his cheeks. He looked away in embarrassment. 

"Have you..." Christian trailed off, drawing Mitchel's attention again. He scratched his neck and averted his eyes as if to indicate that he was contemplating whether or not he should say what he wanted to say. "Go ahead," Mitchel said quietly. Christian nodded. "Have you considered trying to date again? I mean, the whole Jordan things sucks, but that was over a year ago. Maybe you should try finding someone new. Better."

Mitchel looked away, not wanting his best friend to somehow understand what he was thinking. "There is no one better," He replied quietly, and Christian nodded as if he understood. He didn't. Mitchel was not talking about Jordan. He was talking about Christian. 

After Jordan, Mitchel knew that he couldn't see anyone else. There was no use in trying to find a girl who could overshadow his feelings for Christian. Because no one could. It was better that Mitchel figured that out rather than going around and acting like he loved other women. Finally, Mitchel looked up. 

"Come home safe, okay?" "Don't worry, Mitchel. I'm gonna stay at Molly's," He replied. Mitchel nodded, and to his surprise, Christian's hands found their way to Mitchel's face. They cupped his jaw and he brought his face down to Mitchel's. A slight gasp escaped his lips as Christian placed a light kiss on his forehead. 

"That's for good luck," Christian chuckled when he saw Mitchel's expression. "What for?" Mitchel's voice wavered. Christian only laughed again and said goodbye before leaving Mitchel alone in his room and headed out of the house.  

Mitchel fell back on Christian's bed, his hand resting on his forehead. His song played even louder in his head, and he was still only able to hear it as if it were being played far, far way. His heart raced as he recalled the last few seconds, and he felt like he was in heaven.