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01:26: merry xmas

11:18: mom made pudding

12:35: dad said we can have a little wine if you come home

16:42: fuck, maddison

16:43: i can’t do this anymore

The loud music was not helping Maddison sleep away his headache. Electric bass was in time with the throbbing of his temple and Maddison wanted to go down to the party just so he could yell at every one to please keep fucking quiet because he was suffering. He was angry, frustrated. At himself. At Sam.

The messages were unexpected. Unwelcomed.

He dared text Maddison for days and expected a reply from him when he knew the situation they were in? He dared say he could not do it anymore right after four days of messaging him consistently, making Maddison jump every time his phone dinged. Maddison almost hid his phone under his bed but it was ridiculous because he knew it was there and every time a text appeared he would check it like the lovestruck person he was. Maddison was angry he could not stop the tears from flowing the moment he read that last text.

The initial plan was to celebrate the holiday with his schoolmates at the basement, just like Tan suggested, so that he would feel less lonely, especially now that the former and Richard left for their own vacations. Maddison decided it would be healthy to mingle with other people aside from the two and the Christmas party was the perfect opportunity for that.

But after the texts from Sam, he deflated back to his old self, the one who couldn’t feel anything but emptiness and loss, the one who couldn’t paint, the one who didn’t know how to communicate. He thought for a moment to message Richard and Tan in their group chat and tell them what was going on, but the two had no idea about him and Sam so he decided to wallow in pain. Alone. Like the usual.

Was Sam playing with him? After months of no interaction, out of nowhere, he was texting Maddison again as if nothing happened? And then he got mad because Maddison did not answer him? His best friend was so full of shit and Maddison was angry.

His pettiness overflowing now, he couldn’t help but think Sam only messaged him again because his parents were pestering him. That’s it. That’s most likely it. He wanted nothing to do with Maddison the moment Maddison ignored countless texts from him when Maddison left.

On top of the heavy bass and cheers he was hearing downstairs and the loud thumping of his head, Maddison heard his stomach grumble. It was half-past eight and he ought to eat now. He thought of going down to get some food wasn’t fun and he hated the thought of human contact at the moment. God, didn’t he wish he were an alien instead and coffee as a diet was enough to get him by.

Ransacking his little pantry and fridge, he found a day-old loaf, a box of milk and cup noodles, sat on his desk and began eating. The food wasn’t so bad, but it was bad because it was his Christmas eve meal. He should have at least opted for a pizza delivery given he could afford it with the extra allowance he got from his parents, but then again, human contact.

He was done eating in a few minutes and, resolving into sleeping early since his mind was not properly functioning for a Yuletide celebration anyway, he showered and brushed his teeth, ready to go to bed by 9:15 in the evening. Pathetic.

Just as he was about to turn off his lights and bury himself in the comfort of his blankets, loud knocks were heard outside his door and he grumbled to himself and huffed as he slid his slippers back on. If his schoolmates were to convince him to go down to the party, he was willing to give them a sack on their balls as a Christmas present. He was just not in the mood.

“What — ”

Pulling the door open, Maddison stopped whatever he was saying and stared. Stared. And stared some more. His eyes were wide and he was certain his jaw was slacked open. Splashes of ebony and forest green hit his eyes and his knees shook, one hand on the doorknob, knuckles white, the other in a fist as he tried and failed to control his swirling emotions, his loud heart, his tears.

“Hi, Mads.”

Maddison let out a whoosh of breath.

Sam stood in front of him. Watching, waiting. Waiting to see if Maddison would move first? He was bound to wait forever then, as Maddison couldn’t so much as swallow.

Was he this weak for him? One moment he was angry at him and the next he wanted nothing more than to throw himself at Sam and hug him tight? But he couldn’t. Oh, Maddison couldn’t. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Maddison watched, struggling, as Sam licked his lips nervously, red, very red, from the cold, it must have been. His grip on the strap of his backpack was tight, Maddison could tell, among other things he could tell. Hair longer, eyes so green yet dark, cheeks flushed. Taller. Oh, he did grow taller, but still a couple inches shorter than Maddison. He had his other hand inside his coat pocket and his eyes darted from Maddison to his dorm room and then back to Maddison.

“Merry Christmas?” He said, but it came out more as a question than a greeting. Maddison sniffed. “Can I come in?”

That seemed to undo Maddison from his current stupor, blurting, “Why are you here?”

The tone was flat, a little broken. His eyes never left Sam. The other fidgeted where he stood.

“You were not answering my messages. May I come in, Mads?”

“I don’t want to see you.”

A flash of anger, and then Sam was sighing. “I need to talk to you. Please.” He said it with so much sincerity, Maddison could feel another bout of headache rushing in. He slid the door open, wider, and gestured for Sam to go in.

Motioning for Sam to sit on a chair in the corner just beside his desk, he turned his back so that he was facing his pantry again. He didn’t know what was going on, nor what was about to happen. Was Sam here to tell him to forget what happened last time and demand his friendship back? Was he here for closure? Was he here to emphasize again that his feelings for Maddison were purely platonic? As if Maddison didn’t know that already?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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