touch.

VI

The only thing I can actually cook is chicken porridge.

So that's my solution whenever I catch cold or fever like this. My mom had told me I needed to know how to cook other dishes too concerning my age, but I never care.

My phone buzzes vigorously on the table as my Marimba ringtone blasts through the kitchen. Licking the soup on my thumb, I slide to answer the call from an unknown number.

"Josa wher teh fuk is you?" By that, I know it's Giovanne. I smile silly, as if she could see me. My finger goes to wipe the overflowing porridge that I had put into a container to be taken to Demitri. Delicious.

I plan to send some food at his house—I do know he's obviously at campus, as it is Wednesday. But I could pass it to his sister and actually exchange a proper hello with her. A friendly offering.

"I'm home, I caught cold." My voice sounded like I was joking.

"I told you not to run in the rain yesterday you stupid nina"

I just chuckle, smiling.

"Alright, ring me if you need anything. Okay baby?"

"Yes mother." I say humorously.

—

I drive to his house. The wooden garden gate is left opened. Scanning around, I see his neighbour watering plants outside. I make my way inside, knocking softly on the door.

I did thrice, even calling out his name a few times—no answer. I inhale deeply and knock for the fourth time before I receive the exact same respond. That's it. Maybe she's out for grocery shopping? I don't know.

But then a voice make its way to my ears. "Who're you looking for sweetie?"

A lady around 50 says, smiling warmly at me. Her back is round and hunched—she is small. Holding that watering can in her hands, she looked like one of the cupid ornament—except for the watering can replacing the cupid's arrow.

"Uh, Demitri?" I pause, shaking my head with a silly smile. "I mean, his sister, yeah, his sister." I nod, biting in my lips. I feel my cheeks burning. She might've labeled me as a cheap-class-skipper-girl because obviously Demitri is at campus.

"Oh dear," Her voice drastically changes from the lovey-dovey tone to a much more serious voice. Putting down her watering can, she approaches me slowly as she wipes her wet hands. Holding my shoulders firmly in her small hands, she shakes her head with slight horror showing on her face. Her eyes shoots me that glance—the bad news. I can almost feel my soul slowly escaping my body as I stand there.

She hasn't even started her words yet.

"You don't know, do you?" I shake my heads slowly, not letting any words out my mouth. She smiles sadly, guiding me to sit on one of her garden benches. "This morning, Mrs Thompson heard something weird from his house. She came over to check, only to find him lying weakly on the floor. She was too wasted. Mrs Thompson had to do something. She called the ambulance and the police. I believe he was taken to Bravetown's Hospital and his sister, only God knows." She shrugs with a pity look on her face, continuing to water her plants.

My soul really felt like being reaped out of me right now. The lady talked some more, but I wasn't paying any attention.

Good God what happened to you Dem.

I don't think I've ever sworn so much in my life while driving. I attempt to stay calm, but come on who would've stayed calm in situation like this.

"Hi how can I-"

"Demitri Lockhart." I say, tucking a stray of remaining hair to the back of my ears. My eyes scan through the surrounding before going back to the nurse in blue sitting behind the desk. She look uncertainly at me. "Please."

She checked her screen and told me the number of his room. 370. Reminds me of MH370—but I hope I don't lose him.

I flop on the seat in front of the room that has 370 on it. I rub my temples in circles with my thumbs as I lower myself in the seat. Sucking in a great amount of air in slowly, I attempt toslow down my heartbeats to normal rates again.

I drum my fingers on the empty seat next to me, attempting to calm myself. I am almost calmed, until I see the doctor and couple of nurses coming out from his room.

"Is he okay? How's he doing?"

"He's stable." He throw me a friendly smile as I shake his hand firmly.

"Oh," I pat myself on chest. Smiling hesitantly.

"Don't worry, he's doing okay. He's asleep at the moment."

"Oh, but like, can I see him? Can I stay for the night?"

"Yes of course."

"Thank you." Spinning my heels, I make my way into the room to see him lying on the bed, pale.

His bottom lip has a small cut at the edge and his left cheek looks sore.

At this moment I really wanna hear his low tone voice calling my name with a blush.

"What happened to you Demitri?" I let out a long sigh as I eye his features. I'm very tempted to touch his soft looking hair that are half in bandage and half out—it looks so soft.

His eyes unexpectedly open weakly. I distant myself, not wanting him to find me intruding his safe personal space.

"Josa. ." He calls with a soft smile.

"Hi Demitri. . How are you feeling?"

"Sad, scared, scarred, but better." He chuckles shortly, but not hinting any humor.

Sitting on the chair next to his bed, I plant my chin on my palm that's resting on the bed. "I'm here if you need anything okay?"

I realize he is staring at my lunchbox that I had carried in with me.

"You're so pale oh god. You're hungry, aren't you?" Helping myself to unpack the lunchbox, I catch him glancing at me with the same weak smile he had on from the first second he has opened his eyes.

"I'm not hungry," Slight laugh is in his tone. "You worry too much," A tone of blush creeps on his pale cheeks.

"Honestly I am, very worried about you." I say as I wipe the soup spoon that I brought. "I coincidentally made some chicken porridge at home, I thought I could feed you some?" I raise the bowl and spoon in my hands. "May I?" He nods with a shy smile that says unbelievable.

Scooping in the first spoonful of porridge, I blow it to tone down the heat. "Smells yummy." He comments.

Suddenly he shots me a shock look, and says, "So. . . you've met her?"

"Her who?"

"M-my sister."His tone sounds weaker than ever—his voice lowing, as well as his eyes.

"No. I have no idea where she is." He nods slowly, looking uncomfortable. Then I know she totally have to do something with the scars on his back. "Is something wrong?"

"No.No-Nothing." That's when I know something's wrong. I'm not going to dig. Plus, he changes the subject pretty quickly. "You skip class?"

"I caught fever. I got a MC slip." I answer nonchalantly before swinging another scoop to his mouth.

"Oh, girl . ." He swipes his lips with his thumbs he swallows the remaining food in his mouth. "You need this warm food better than I do," He says, slowly pushing my arm away with a frown.

Retracting my hand slightly, I answer, "We both need it. Plus it's fun eating together like this right?" I continue giving him the scoop and he let it in his mouth.

"The doctor told me you're going to be discharged tomorrow morning at 9:15." I explain, trying to break the awkward situation.

"9:15?" His tone clearly shows disagreement on spending a night at the hospital.

"Yes. Don't worry, I'll be here for the night. I'll leave at 8 tomorrow to do some things at campus and I'll come right back at 9 to get you, okay?" I smile with my thumbs up.

His eyebrows are furrowing all the way through my explanation. "You don't need to do that. ." Demitri shakes his head slowly, smiling weak.

"I can't just leave you like that! Right?? Plus I don't have your sister's number. . I wouldn't want you to take a cab like this, tomorrow." I motion to him, shaking my head. I clean the spoon and shove them back into my lunchbox bag.

"Now, you boy, should get some rest." I already had the lunchbox bag in my hand as I say it.

"Where are you going? I thought, you say- uh-"

"I am, but I wouldn't want to interrupt your time to rest. I'll just sit in front of your room until you're asleep." He frowns, shooting his eyes at me with the kind of look that says what are you saying?

"No," He tilts his head slightly, "Can't you, just stay here?" Now the blush that I was waiting for appears.

"But you need to rest. You-"

"I also need a friend, don't I?"

I can't say no. I sit back in the chair, giving him the smile. He smiles back as he exhales.