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The comforting warmth of the sheets envelope his body in a melancholic embrace. It had been… fuck, how long had it been that he had been laying their for? He didn’t really care, but it did raise a faint concern that he couldn’t remember how many days he’d been in his bed for.
But it didn’t matter, really. He just needed some time. A couple of days away with only his thoughts to talk to. He just had to sort some things out, that’s all. It’s not like anyone would care, would they?
That last thought stung a little. Did anyone care that he hadn’t spoken to them in however long? Probably not, and he didn’t exactly blame them. Judging by how most of the other guys treated him, he wasn’t surprised if they were fucking glad that he wasn’t annoying them. Whatever. It didn’t matter.
But as much as Chris tried to pull himself away from that possibility, the thought that nobody actually did care about him continued to sting like a rose thorn pricking into his heart. He could try to play it off that he didn’t care, but he did, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
The blankets seemed to bear more of a burdensome weight rather than a comforting embrace now. The air in the room felt more pressing and heavy. The shadows curling in the corners of the room seemed to swirl maliciously rather than giving a sweet darkness. Anxiety began to riddle inside Chris’ chest as he took notice of how the environment was shifting around him.
Maybe it was a message, that he should finally get out of bed that day. He had told himself he would do it yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that too… But it wasn’t hurting anyone. Maybe just another couple of hours. It would be easier than having to take care of himself, and having to inevitably reply to any calls about where he had been the last few practices.
Yet the ache in his muscles called for otherwise. Same with the throb of his stomach. And the pain in his chest. He had tried to ignore them all - and had succeeded for many - but today they felt stronger. If he didn’t get up today, he might not have the strength to do so tomorrow.
But surely, that could wait. Another few hours wouldn’t hurt. Plus, making such a big decision would require a lot of thinking, which is a perfect thing to do while laying in bed by yourself. Sighing, Chris knew he was only delaying the unavoidable. He hated how the two sides of his mind constantly fought and argued to the point he couldn’t tell which to follow.
He rolled onto his other side to face the wall, as though the physical movement would reorder his thoughts. Instead, it only made his head spin sickeningly at the sudden disbalance.
Knock knock.
An echoing rap split the air. Chris opened his eyes in surprise. Was that the door to his house? No, of course not. He must have imagined it. He forced his face further into the blankets, trying to ignore the foreboding in his stomach.
Knock knock knock.
Fuck. He wasn’t imagining it. Somebody was at his house.
Maybe if he didn’t answer then they would go away-
The creak of the front door opening rattled through the otherwise silent air. Well, that narrowed down who it could be. It had to be one of the guys in the band, since they were the only ones who knew where the spare key was. Chris groaned agitatedly into the pillow. He didn’t want to speak to anyone, especially not in this state.
“Chris? You here?”
Paul.
A slight anxiety rose in his chest as he heard the footsteps of his friend approach his room.
Finally, they reached the entryway to his room, and his door opened gently.
“Chris?” Paul asked, straining his eyes against the darkness. Once they adjusted, he noticed the body-shaped lump laying in the corner of the bed. “Chris, you asleep?”
Chris sighed heavily, alerting Paul of his consciousness.
Paul stepped closer, concern rising inside him. “Hey, man, have you been okay? None of us have heard from you in days.”
Chris didn’t answer, just pushed his face further into the pillow as though if he tried hard enough he would disappear entirely.
Paul approached his bed before gently sitting down on the edge of the mattress. The proximity between them made Chris’ skin prickle uneasily.
“Look, dude, can you at least look at me? We’ve been worried about you, and something’s clearly up. I only want to help. Please?”
The worry in Paul’s voice hurt to hear, but Chris couldn’t let himself be deceived. He couldn’t be sure if this was genuine emotion, or just a facade to humiliate him. So he stayed silent.
Paul frowned, eyebrows creasing in concern. Gingerly, he reached out his arm to touch Chris’ arm. He had only just brushed the skin when Chris recoiled in a violent movement.
“Get the fuck off of me!”
Paul jumped back at the aggression, fear swirling behind his eyes. Chris was surprised with himself at that. He hadn’t meant to act so rashly… it had just sort of come over him.
Now he sat upright in his bed, arms propping himself upwards. His head swam at being upright for the first time in days, and he felt bile rising at the back of his throat. As the dizzying vision started to disperse, he met Paul’s startled expression.
Guilt immediately rolled through him, and he exhaled heavily.
“Fuck, sorry… I didn’t mean to- It just caught me off guard- sorry… fuck…”
Paul seemed to loosen a little at the apology - well, the best form of an apology he was going to get right now- and his eyes blinked back into their fearless yet concerned state.
He took a step closer, yet still kept a large distance between himself and Chris.
“What’s wrong, man? Please tell me.” His voice was soft, but commanding.
Chris sighed. No getting out of this now.
“I don’t know… I just needed a day to myself, but then I couldn’t get out of bed. The days just started stretching on until I couldn’t even remember how long I had stayed there. It’s fine though.” He explained.
Paul watched with wary eyes. He was silent for a long time.
“You haven’t eaten or anything?” He finally asked.
Chris slowly shook his head, looking away.
“Fuck, that’s not good, dude.” He started towards him. “Let me help you up-”
Chris lurched away uncontrollably as Paul grew closer to him. He felt his skin prickle in the sense of danger, and his muscles tensed tightly.
Paul froze, realising what his movement had triggered. Quickly, he stepped backwards.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll bring you in something to eat.”
Paul was turning to leave when Chris spoke, stopping him.
“Wait, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault, I just…” He tried to explain.
Paul watched him carefully, eyes glittering in the darkness.
“It’s alright, man,” He reassured him. “It’s okay.”