He continued to look at the ceiling, a struggle between doing what he wanted and doing what was best going on inside of him. He wanted to see Al as much as Al wanted to see him, but he did not want to feel more guilty than what he already felt by leaving Al alone.
“I never pick up because… I…” he sighed, in reality it was mostly his fear of pain.
“I’m a coward that could never answer you… You kept on calling on reminding me.. Leaving me messages … And I was too scared to answer, too scared to promise and to hurt… I did check them though, every single one of them…”
He laughed at himself, shaking his head at his actions, “I am a weak person… I weak person that needs to see you, to hug you and to be wit you… I don’t know what to do Alfred…” He admitted, his head banging lightly against the wall. It was now an hour later since they started, their brain refusing to shut down and neither of them willing to end the call anytime soon.
Alfred got up from the floor and slowly walked back to his room in silence, his ear feeling hot against the phone. He switched the phone to his other ear as he laid on his bed, putting a hand on his heart. It was beating rapidly— he actually wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t feel as calm as he sounded.
"You’re not a coward," he whispered into the phone. He was so afraid to speak up and clearly. He wanted to pretend that he was still next to the other, sharing secrets into each other’s ears and whispering sweet nothings again just like they did before. "You are never a coward."
He licked his lips and listened to him, nodding to himself. “I’m glad you checked the messages, though. I didn’t want you to think that I forgot about you. I wanted you to know that no matter where the hell you are, I still love you.”
The blonde stayed silent for a moment, the only sound being their breathing. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backboard of the bed, not even tired.
"You should come home."