heart shaped box

seven

in bed it was a very cold day snow had finally came, well technically it already had but it was really coming now, I had a couple of days off since Christmas is next weekend, I decided to spend a day for myself, the past two weeks had been hectic and very draining for my usually boring schedule.

i hadn't seen Timothèe in a week, and my life went back to balance, but that didn't mean he wasn't on my mind 24/7 because he was and as much as I hate myself for it, it made me smile.

nothing made me smile anymore, apart from listening to nirvana which I have been a lot recently.

it was a secret but I was watching call me by your name again, it became a comforting movie to watch, even thought I knew the out come of the movie, I always watched it hoping for a happy ending for elio.

my hair was particularly gross this frosty morning, the bags under my eyes weren't flattering and my glasses were starting to really break.

it seems as though everything is falling apart, expect me. I've been drained sure, but positive, I'm positive for the future.

I've been talking to my mum a little more then usual, it was strange but okay.

when the apple sign lit back up on my dull small iPhone hence finally being charged after I sweat 20 minutes.

i look at the trusty 1% at the top, opening my phone, I see something on my notifications.

Timothèe Chalamet wants to send a message

My heart drops and I throw my phone done, as if I were under attack, I slowly lift my phone up to see it again, my heart climbs back up my rib cage returning to its natural area.

my Instagram is private, so I open my requested chats seeing old ones in yet to look at, sex bots probably.

i hover my chipped painted thumb over his name instead I throw my phone down hoping up.

"it's just a message, you haven't seen him in a week and your last chat was pretty intense."
i say out loud.

i jump back to my original place, opening my phone once again, taking a deep breath I open the message.

my eyes shut before they meet the screen, I open my eyes.
"oh."

three letters.

hey

what did I think he was going to type a three hundred word essay to me?

I wait a minute before typing.

Hi

He reads it almost right away.

how are you?

tired, cold.

why cold?

My heater broke last winter and I'm broke?

well at least are you wearing warm clothes?

sort of, but I find it okay to be wrapped in my blankets all day.

ha, you haven't changed.

what do you mean?

whenever I would come over during winter you'd be wrapped under a mountain of blankets.

right, as I said I find it okay.