Chapter Text
by the end of the month, pran feared that pat would already be waiting for him in the corridor if he were to leave his room. it is not that the architect still felt anxious around him. they reached a point in their relationship where pran felt as if he could talk without much reserve or inhibition. conversations between them had this natural flow. even with that, pat refused to acknowledge that he was participating in any parties, just shrugging it off like the problem never existed. pran wanted to believe him, really. but he knew what he had heard. he regretted not recording all of it. if he only had proof, pat wouldn't have a right to keep treating him like he was going insane. he wasn't. if anything, he was the only self-aware there. pat was the weird one. he kept creeping around as if waiting for pran to leave his room. he was always disappearing suddenly without making any noise. he was a liar and a creep. he was pran's friend, believe it or not. not that pran would say that aloud anytime soon. it was bizarre, given that he didn't know much about the other man.
the architect was in his bed, slowly dozing off after an uneventful weekend. he has seen pat almost every day and the image of his neighbour was easily calming his mind, allowing him to close his eyes with a false sense of security. his mind was foggy and he could almost see the outlines of his dreams, but he was still painfully aware of his surroundings. the soft pillow pressing against his left ear was especially bothersome, but he refused to move his body. slumber was already slowly swallowing him when he had heard it. there was a sound of someone pulling a handle in the other room.
probably his front door.
pran sat up in his bed, eyes wide open, trying to explain the sound. perhaps he imagined it, it could have been a part of his dream. but then it happened again, louder. that's when the panic started kicking in, his head buzzing from the adrenaline. his door was locked, that's for sure. nobody was going in. maybe it was just a drunk neighbour, mistakingly trying to open the wrong door. that must have been it, right?
pran waited for it to happen again. anything. but the silence was getting louder and louder with each passing second and after an hour, nothing was disturbing it. even the cars passing by seemed to quiet down. pran eventually relaxed, but he refused to fall asleep. just in case.
in the morning, he put more thought into locking his door than it was probably necessary.
~"~
the day went by, and pran found himself in his bed once again, this time sitting against the headboard. he knew it was insane, waiting for something that didn't have to happen, but it was better to be safe than sorry. he made sure that nobody would be able to come in. he wasn't stupid. he just needed to make sure that nobody would try it. that last night was just an exception.
when he heard it, loud and clear, he knew there was something wrong. maybe if he wasn't anxious he would go to the door and swing it open, startling the creep that's been trying to mess with him. he didn't. he stayed awake for another night, hands shaking.
pan had been late to his lectures the next day. it was stupid, really, but he had felt this crippling fear as if he had forgotten something important. he had to go back to his room to make sure he didn't leave it unlocked. and then come back again to prove to himself he wasn't wrong the second time.
~`~
"the neighbours are still loud?" wai asked, flopping next to pran with a loud sigh. his shoulders seemed to release all built-up tension the moment he touched the ground.
"hm? what? why?" pran was barely keeping it together after whole three nights of nothing but fear. somehow, seeing wai was ataraxic, and pran desperately wanted to cling to this feeling.
"you're starting to look like a corpse again," wai said, his head falling on top of pran's. "if you need anything, you should tell me. i can't help you when you keep it all to yourself."
'no, no. no, it's okay. the headaches are just back, you know...' the architect didn't want to lie but worrying his best friend seemed plain wrong, especially since wai was not doing too well either. he was studying harder than anyone, worked part-time and always made sure to check on people around him. he was an angel, and pran has been a burden way too often.
"do you want to sleepover?"
"no, don't worry, no. i can't." pran shook his head. he couldn't. not now. "i have some things i need to finish, yes. maybe after that?"
"of course, pran. whatever you need, i'm here for you." wai replied, it was barely a hum, and if the future psychiatrist wasn't basically lying on his friend, pran would have missed it. he wanted to say the same, to reassure wai that he was willing to do anything for him, but the words never left his mouth.
~`~
pran was exhausted. both mentally and physically. his head was throbbing more than usual, squeezing his poor brain senseless. whenever he closed his eyes, he could feel them pulsing. it was uneven, sometimes slow as if he was gradually passing away, other times it seemed to race with whatever was chasing it, making his whole body blaze up with an unfamiliar fire. it's not like pran was ever fit, so any disturbance in his life was like a lethal blow, knocking all air out of him. he didn't sleep at all for the past three nights, terrified that someone would eventually break-in. whenever he blinked, he imagined someone coming up to him, putting a cold knife to his neck. keeping it there against his adam's apple, as if playing with him. it was weird how that piece of imaginary metal burnt his neck. he could almost feel it sinking through his delicate skin, blood slowly travelling down, staining the shirt he had on. it was just his imagination, though, acting up whenever he was on his own.
it was wednesday night, pran was no longer in his bed. he had brought a chair from the kitchen and put it a few meters away from the front door. he left it unlocked on purpose. if anyone decided to sneak in, he would see them. he would confront them. he would make sure they would never do that again. for his sanity. the phone on his lap had an emergency number already dialled in. it was just waiting for him to press the call button. next to the phone was a kitchen knife. it was not the sharpest, not that it even mattered. it was only supposed to scare off a potential attacker. pran would never use it. his heart was thumping in his chest and, despite the exhaustion, he's never felt more alive. his mind went blank as he kept his gaze on the door as if challenging it to open up.
hours passed, and pran felt the disappointment settling in his stomach. it was a bitter feeling of defeat. he stood up from that stupid chair, knife clattering on the ground near his feet. the sun was already shining through the windows, meaning that he was to experience another night disturbed by his paranoia later. the only time he was prepared and ready, he was left hanging. pran didn't know how much longer till his body gave up.
he didn't bother locking the door before going to shower.
the cold water hit his body like a bunch of heavy bullets. one after another. he just stood there, waiting for his shaky limbs to get used to it. waiting for them to stop pulling him down to the ground with their weight. it was truly just wishful thinking, and after some time, he realized that nothing was going to help him with the fatigue he was feeling. his mind was the one that had to get used to it. he hoped it would.
when he looked in the mirror, he almost didn't recognize himself. his whole face looked blurry as if morphing into something else. he blinked once. nothing. twice. the image in the mirror started to look clearer. he blinked again confused. the features on his face were not his. the nose was bigger, the cheeks got sharper. another blink. he has realized that it was pat, who took his place in the mirror. his eyes were still unrecognizable, covered in a foggy layer, but everything else was pat's. he looked even worse than pran. sick, almost dead. his skin was bruised, and the bright light of the bathroom made it look like he was in a morgue, waiting to be examined. he was wet, covered in tiny droplets of dirty water. pran squeezed his eyes shut, begging his brain to stop hallucinating. it was disturbing. pran has never seen a dead body before so, why was this one so realistic?
he didn't dare to look at his reflection again.
despite his body screaming for help and his mind pleading for a break, he managed to get himself ready for lectures. he even ate something before finally leaving his dorm.
pran almost dropped his keys when he saw a figure leaning against the wall in front of him. once again, he felt like he was about to get murdered. his heart almost dropped to his feet. almost.
"oh, pat, thank god..." pran let out a shaky breath, clearly relieved.
"you look like you just saw a ghost." pat chucked. was that some sort of joke? pran's mind was way too slow, and there was no way for him to understand it.
"no, yes, no. i was... i was afraid you were someone else for a moment." pran confessed, locking his door. he didn't take his hand off the handle yet, reluctant to let go.
"oh?"
"have you seen anyone weird around here?" pran had to ask. if anyone were to see something, pat would be one of those people. he was like a little soldier, a self-proclaimed protector of the dorms or something.
"here?" pat moved his hands, trying to get an idea of what 'here' was supposed to mean.
"yes. in front of my door?" pran rolled his eyes. the irritation came from nothing.
"why?" pat asked another question, tilting his head to the side. a weird habit of his. cute. weird.
"someone has been trying to get into my room for the past couple of nights, i was just..."
pran didn't even get to finish his sentence, met with a warm sound of laughter. if the circumstances were different, he would find it charming. pat had an attractive laugh. but all he felt was anger, pure fury. he was seriously scared.
"what's so funny?" pran snapped, his voice louder than usual, destroying the fictitious sense of peacefulness surrounding the corridor.
"it was me, silly. and i wasn't trying to get in." pat's smile seemed to never fade. he finally moved from the wall, taking a step in pran's direction, making him finally let go of the handle. "i was making sure your door is locked."
"i'm sorry...?" the architect felt lost. his mind just went into overdrive and gave up on analyzing any additional sentences. "i'm sorry, pat. what the fuck?"
"i wouldn't want anyone going in your room at night!" maybe it would make sense. maybe it could make sense in some other universe. but in this one, pran wished that the dead pat he saw in his mirror not so long ago was a reality.
"what gave you an impression that it was a good idea?" he asked, needing a reason, anything. "pat, no. you can't just do that!"
"did i scare you?" pat giggled again, unphased by pran's grimace.
"of course... of course, you scared me!" pran had to check his door again. "don't fucking do that shit ever again." it was closed.
"i'm sorry, i was just worried about you." his neighbour replied, finally showing some remorse.
"but you can't just do that."
"fine, then i'll let people kill you in your sleep, and we'll see whose ideas are stupid!"
"it was consistently locked. i can't believe..." pran was on a verge of tears. he kept his eyes on the floor, trying to hide it. it was pathetic. "i can't believe you would do that to me."
"i'm worried." pat tried. there was ringing in pran's ears, and he wasn't sure if the man in front of him was actually sad or if it was just his mind playing tricks again.
"don't be," pran replied and left. the tension disappeared from his body only when the elevator door closed behind him.