But there's... There's just something at the back of his head that gnaws and tickles and scratches. Something's wrong. They haven't really talked since that night, the day after Christmas... They've talked on the phone, but not like they used to. They could sit and talk for well over an hour, not a problem, before... He wipes at his face. He needs to know what's wrong. Something's happened. He just knows it.
He picks up the phone in the kitchen and dials Nuri's number, complete with all the extra dials. Living in a different world... Who would've thought? The dial tone sounds horribly shrill in the silence.
"Hello?" he smiles in spite of himself. It's so good to hear Nuri's voice. "It's me...Simon."
He twirls the phone cord around his thumb, leaning against the counter. The anxiety's still there. "I just thought I'd... Oh..." he huffs nervously. "Okay. I guess great minds do think alike--"
But the mirth drains from his voice the moment Nuri starts talking. He needs to talk to Simon. They need to talk. And that horrible feeling grows...tenfold. He met someone when they were apart. He was trying to cope, thought he was doing fine... Thought he could put the past behind him and move on, so he picked this guy up, took him home and...
Simon starts shaking.