Fatal Flaws

I stare blankly out the window the entire ride. The scenery passes by. I hardly notice which direction he's driving in. Barely acknowledging as he pulls into a parking spot, shutting the engine off. For the first time in a long time, my mind is numb, not my body. My brain isn't working, nothing is registering. I have no emotions left to present. I'm blank, cold, and empty. When you hit rock bottom, it'll do this to you. Your body will go through everyday notions on autopilot. Imagine watching yourself in a dream, but unable to interact. This is how I feel right now.

The coldness eagerly rushes in the moment the door flies open. It swirls around me, nipping at my bare flesh. But I don't respond or try to hide from it. His touch is warm and reassuring against me. My body moves in the direction he takes me. I follow him blindly, unsure of where we're going. He leads me up the steps, in through the door, and down the hallway. There's a faint sound of keys jingling somewhere off in the distance. A soft swooshing noise as he pushes the door open, ushering me inside.

The moment the door closes, I snap out of it. A rush of noise and sensation floods into my body. He hangs his keys on a large hook beside the door before leaving me, standing alone. I watch him walk to the nearby dresser, rummaging through its contents.

Looking around his dorm room is nothing like mine. It's larger, with higher ceilings, and a wider, more vast floor plan. Instead of the small singular twin beds, my room has this one has larger full sizes. Besides the bed, each side of the room contains a small closet rather than one large one with dividers like ours. I can tell right away which side is his without having to ask. Like Sky's, his bed has an enormous, thick, black comforter. A similar pile of throw blankets sits neatly along the footboard. Several posters he has hung up are the same as hers. You can see the similarity in their styles. Beside his bed is an oak chest adorned with an alarm clock and a small iron lamp, surrounded by several pictures. I take a few steps forward, inspecting the small frames.

One contains a small photograph of a smiling Sky wearing a blood-red dress. Her arms were positioned around Hayden's broad shoulders. He looks so handsome in an all-white tux. Both of them are smiling and happy. Another one is his graduation photo. He's standing beneath a large tree, holding his diploma proudly. His green robes sway in the wind. He looks strange in this one without his tattoos. And the last one is of him and some man I've never seen before. He's larger and rougher looking with huge muscular arms. He has more tattoos than Hayden does. They look happy seated on a log with a raging fire in front of them. They're both smiling, holding up cans of beer.

His room resembles him, where his roommate must be a jock. Football trophies cover the tables and dressers. Multiple colored ribbons hang beside his bed. He has no pictures, only posters of half-naked women hanging on the walls. His bedding is more vibrant. A bright blue and green checkered pattern blanket lies tossed on the unmade bed. Beside the bed is a wooden chair with a black and red varsity jacket, hanging on its backside. I giggle, wondering if he was the douchebag that April had been eyeing on my first day. Wouldn't that be ironic? According to some people Sky and I are a weird combination. I wonder what they would say about these two?

"I know you're cold. Do you want some warm clothes to change?" my eyes follow him, walking to turn the TV on.

I nod in response, not wanting to talk yet. I continue checking out the room. For two males living here, it's cleaner than I would've thought. It smells good too. It has an apple cinnamon mixed with fresh laundry soap scent lingering in the air.

"Here, even if you're not speaking to me. I don't need you getting sick from wearing cold clothes on my watch," he smirks, tossing several articles of clothing at me. Without hesitating, I strip my old shirt off, tossing it to the ground. The shirt he'd chosen for me is an older black t-shirt that fell along my mid-thigh. His black and red boxers aren't very visible beneath the shirt. I had felt his eyes on me the whole time I was changing. But I refuse to let him see me acknowledge his stare.