One night, some weeks after I had gone back to classes and work, I woke up in the middle of the night. Unlike any other occasion, this time I was fully awake.

I grabbed my phone as I had a feeling I’d need it, and stood up, intending on using the bathroom. While there, it flashed for a brief second, before it even buzzed or even vibrated.

“Haah, I knew it.”

Abby had tried to call me, but the call dropped before I’d be able to notice it. That was my initial theory, but when she didn’t try a second time, I changed it to her cutting off because she didn’t want to disturb me. There’s no way she was calling me at that time of the night to tell me she dreamt of kittens and rainbows.

Well, tough luck. If she was calling me at two in the morning, and them playing coy, then I’d be the one making the call.

“H-hey. What’s up?”

Her voice was cracking a lot and I could hear her irregular breathing.

“I got up to use the toilet and noticed my phone flashing.”

“I see… sorry for waking you up.”

“No, I got up, then I saw it flashing” I said, giving a lot of emphasis to each word I spoke.

I waited for some response or come back, but heard nothing of her except quiet sobs for a while.

“Hold on.”

I heard from the other side the sound of shuffling and of doors being opened and closed.

“What was that?”

She got quiet again. Then, she began explaining.

That noise had been her checking every nook and cranny of her bedroom and house before she came back to her room and locking the door. She had a dream where her mother came to take her back to her old house and needed to go through all that to have some peace of mind. That was… well, that was nightmarish for lack of a better word. Torturous, to not sound puny.

“Sorry… I’m such a mess, aren’t I?”

“You’ll get better.”

“When!? When will I…”

She had begun raising her voice before going silent again. I waited for her to say something since I had no idea what to tell her next.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t be blowing up on you out of all people.”

I thought she should, though. Maybe her problem was exactly that: not putting out all her pent-up emotions.

I talked with her more, changing the subject slowly to other matters, getting her mind out of bad things. When the call ended, I sat on my desk and grabbed some paper and a pen.

“Right, let’s see…”

I opened a tab in my web browser and got to researching.

Abby needed professional help, something that I couldn’t provide her. I’d still do my best to help, anyway.

And to begin with, I started researching about recuring nightmares.

I already knew she slept well when with me—at least she hadn’t woken up in a panic, so I now had to figure out what else I could do to help her not have them when sleeping alone.

After about an hour, I already had some stuff I could use, and the articles were starting to get repetitive, so I decided to go to bed and get some sleep.

The next morning, as soon as I awoke, I texted her asking for her to stop by. It didn’t take long for her to knock on the front door.

“Hi there,” she greeted once I opened the door. She must have had finished one of her morning runs because she was a bit flushed and some hair was sticking to her forehead while wearing nylon shorts and a hoodie. It would also explain how she got there so fast. “What’s up?”

I invited her in and guided her to my room. Once there, I sat her on the bed and sat right by her, holding her hands.

“Abby, look, erm… I did some research last night and—”

“—I’m sorry,” she interrupted, looking down and looking dejected from the little glimpse I had of her face. “I keep causing your problems left and right.”

“I want you to tell me about your nightmares,” I told her, like she hadn’t interrupted me at all, or said such harsh thing about herself.

“W-what!? No!”

She immediately got distressed and defensive, but I was ready for that.

“I thought you’d say that, so I prepared you this,” I said, handing her a notebook I had lying around, unused. “If you’re not telling me about them, then at least try writing.”

She held it, staring at it confused.

“Is writing about my nightmares supposed to help?”

“According to what I read, it might. I don’t think it will hurt to try.”

She stared at the book some more. Then, she held it to her chest, nodding in agreement. That was step one forward.

“You told me you needed to check all your house because you dreamt your mum was there. Does that happen often?”

She gave me a meek nod.

“It’s my most recuring one.”

Hmm… is she scared she might have to go back home?

The divorce papers were signed, and with that, her custody was also taken care of.

I’ll have to talk with her dad.

I hated the idea of going behind her back, but if I made any suggestion now, I feared she’d start kicking a fuss and cause her to shut me off completely. The same could be said about when she’d find out I talked to her father, but I’d deal with that when the time came.

Between having her being my friend forever or having her heal without me in her life… It pained me, killed me even, but I’d choose the latter.

“Wanna take a shower and have breakfast with me before going home?”

“…I’ll stay just for breakfast. I don’t want to always be borrowing your stuff.”

Overall, I was pleased with the results. I’d rather have had her talking about her night terrors with me, but I’d content myself with the results.

I gave her some time to settle down her mind before establishing another conversation. I was without topics, but then something crossed my mind while I chewed the piece of toast I had in hand.

“You know, maybe it’d be a good idea for you to bring some clothes when you come back for our study session.”

“You think so? Wouldn’t I be taking away your space?”

“I mean, you spend a lot of time here and my closet and drawers are mostly empty. If I’ve got anything, it’s storage space.”

“No, I meant… never mind.”

She didn’t elaborate any further, but I kept watching her. I had just noticed how she ate her toasts. Nibble, nibble, chomp. Nibble, nibble, chomp. It reminded me of a hamster.

I compare her a lot to tiny animals, don’t I?

“At this rate, it feels like I’m slowly moving in,” she said under her breath while absent mindedly staring to the side.

She then snapped her neck back at me. By the way my face was, she clearly knew without any space for deniability that I had heard her.

“Forget what I said! I didn’t sleep much, so I’m saying dumb stuff,” she hurriedly urged, growing a shade of red I had never seen.

Still though, Abby and I living together? That didn’t sound all that bad.

Pfft. And since when have you become so clingy?

Probably because it was winter and having her in my bed or sharing a blanket on the couch were the cosiest things ever. I felt a bit ashamed by it. Then, I didn’t. This is what I had been wanting for a long time. I now had a friend I absolutely adored to be with.

I was still reminiscing about all the things that led me to that point when Abby bumped into me while we were walking to her place.

“Sorry, I kinda tripped.”

Looking at her, I felt the urge of holding her hand. Maybe it was her tired face, me feeling needy after going on a memory trip, or simply how small she looked at the moment from having her shoulders drooping slightly from tiredness.

It didn’t matter the reason, I was going to interlock my fingers with her.

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“Gee, Violet! I’m not that tired.”

“No, erm, I’m… in the mood for that kind of stuff.”

“Oh… ok then.”

Her hand felt so warm and small in mine, almost like I was holding a small bird.

…Here I go again, comparing her to small animals.

“Hehe.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just musing how you’ve become so clingy. It’s so nice.”

“W-what of it?”

She pressed herself on me, hugging my arm with her other hand. As she did, I noticed she was smelling different again. Was this the third or fourth time? Maybe the fourth. Well, how many times it had been didn’t matter, I was just curious to find her changing shampoos so frequently. Maybe it was something she enjoyed doing?

“It’s nice,” she repeated. “Although I’m guessing it’s only temporary.”

“How so?” I asked, genuinely confused by her remark.

“When it starts warming up, I’m guessing you’ll like it less and less for us to get all touchy-feely.”

Yes, once that time came, I wouldn’t be able to use the cold as an excuse anymore.

“…”

Wait, hold on!? What do you mean ‘use the cold as an excuse’?

Was I being clingy because I mainly liked being exactly that?

“…I’m sure I won’t…”

I had to be truthful to myself. I knew for a long time that I had changed. I no longer was the same Violet who would bark at Abby just for leaning on me. No, now I was the complete opposite. If she wasn’t leaning on me, I’d be the one doing the leaning. For better or for worse, that was the person I was now. I was now the person who caused that girl to have a giggling fit and who was rubbing her face on my arm out of cheer glee.

Yup, this is fine.

Her house took me by surprise. From my front door, when looking to the right when facing it, there was a treeline behind some other houses in my neighbourhood. Peeking over said trees, were some relatively new apartment buildings. Fancy ones, at least to my plebeian eyes. Anyway, imagine my surprise discovering she now lived at a less than ten-minute walk away from my place, and that she could even see my house from her balcony. No wonder she’d go back to her place pretty late without worries and got to mine in a blink of an eye.

As for the accommodations, well…

The kitchen was double the size of mine, a fact that filled me with a lot of jealousy, not to mention how well, stylish and modern it was equipped. You could probably fit us and our parents in there, all cooking, and we’d only be bumping on purpose.

The living room was another dreamscape. Large, with two couches that felt like heaven to sit and lay on, a large TV with two sound columns on either side, a very nice bookshelf with some books already on it, others still inside a couple of boxes to the side. Between that and the kitchen was the dining area, with a large wooden-topped table with eight chairs set around it.

Despite the large size of each division, her room was surprisingly small.

“This was a storage room, but I had it converted,” she explained. “I felt like the bedroom was too big.”

Personally, I’d have picked the larger room, but that most likely was very biased by me having always had a small one. In fact, this room was about the same size as mine, only better furnished. She also had her own TV on a drawer set by the foot of her bed, allowing her to watch movies in its comfort.

“Ahem.”

I shifted my focus at her, wondering what she wanted to show me next, but she had her eyes on me.

“I’m going to need that hand,” she told me playfully. Unless you wanna go shower with me, she quickly added with a smirk.

As much as I had gotten clingy, and as much skinship as we had, showering together was still a big no-no.

“Tsk, aww. And here I was thinking I’d get to rub your back and get mine rubbed in return,” she lamented jokingly as she picked her change of clothes.

“T-that won’t ever happen!”

“What if we are wearing bikinis?”

…Actually… that could work… maybe…

“…No!”

She scampered away, almost cackling, while I sat on her bed fanning myself. Why did she have to mess with me that much? And more importantly, why wasn’t I used to it by now? Would I ever?

“By the way,” she said, poking her head over the semi-closed door. “Feel free to snoop around.”

“I won’t do such thing!”

She shrugged, looking equally as amused as before.

“Suit yourself. I just thought it’d be better than simply wait. My underwear is all in that drawer, the second from the top.”

“A-Abby!”

She left again, laughing hard at my reaction.

“Haah, that girl… she’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

I didn’t see the point of snooping around anyway. Her room was kinda arranged like mine.

Hmm? Actually, isn’t it exactly like mine?

As an experiment, I opened a random drawer. In it, there were the exact things as in mine. That could just be a coincidence, so I checked another. And another. And another. I was either being very lucky and should buy a lottery ticket, or she arranged her whole room like mine.

“Now that I think of it… isn’t the drawer she told me where her underwear is the same as mine?”

It was. I shut it right after glancing the design of a tiny cartoony chick staring at me, but that was all I needed. I had seen her wearing them one of the nights she stayed at my place.

Quite frankly, this was all a bit creepy, but I reassured myself that there was a perfectly logical explanation. I’d just have to ask her once she came back from the bathroom.

I sat back on her bed again.

“Oh! This is such a nice mattress!”

If it had springs, I wasn’t noticing any. That was totally unlike mine. Mine creaked at the slightest move and you could feel the springs jab you. If I had a bed like hers, I’d never go sleep in mine again.

I debated whether or not I should lie down on it to have the full experience before calling myself stupid for even questioning if that was appropriate. She always does whatever she feels like in mine, and I’d eventually sleep in it, so why was I being this polite?

“…Yup, it’s a dream bed.”

It perfectly conformed to the shape of my body, no matter the position I got on.

“Hmm, it kinda smell like her…”

Abby had been trying new shampoos recently, but there was an underlying scent that had to be her natural one coming from her pillow. It was… nice.

You are starting to sound like her.

With how much time we spent together, I wasn’t surprised at all.

The door clicked and she came inside, wrapped in a towel. It wasn’t a first that I saw her like that, but this time I thought she’d look good in a pure white dress similar to the one she gave me.

But since it was Abby we were talking about, she’d never put on a dress voluntarily.

“Can I join you?” she asked, looking positively mischievous.

“Do you have anything under that?” I asked, knowing full well she had left the change of clothes she had picked on the desk.

“Yup, my birthday suit.”

“…Please, put on some clothes first.”

I rolled to my side, facing the wall while she got dressed. After all that time together and with so many clothes changing in the same space, you’d think I had gotten used to seeing her naked, but no. She had such a nice figure that I never knew where I should look on those occasions.

“I’d join you, but since we got stuff to do, it’s better that I don’t,” she lamented, sitting by me.

I sat up. As I did it, my nose caught on her smell. She had tried yet another one, but this one wasn’t as good as the previous one. It was nice, don’t get me wrong, but… there was something that didn’t quite fit with her.

Not commenting on how she was smelling, I asked her what the deal was with the way she had copied my furniture arrangement.

“Oh… Do you remember how much stuff I had at the other place?” she asked as a response to my question. “I got rid of a lot of it, but then I had too much furniture that became unnecessary, so I also threw that away. Since I no longer have a housemaid to take care of my stuff, I decided to go with copying how you do things. I’m guessing I might have creeped you out for going too far with it.”

So, that’s what it was. Yeah, that made perfect sense to me. She had seen me do chores countless times before and had very good memory, so of course she knew how I’d tidy up a place. And a housemaid!? How rich were her parents?

“You mean, you managed to arrange all of this alone?”

“I watched some videos on the internet on how to fold clothes and stuff. Do you think I did a good job?”

As far as I could tell, I’d say she had, yes. It wasn’t rocket science, and after you got the hang of it, it was easy.

“That’s a relief. Sometimes I redo the folding two or three times.”

“What about washing?”

“Erm, sometimes my dad takes my clothes to the laundry where he gets his suits clean. I’m not too sure if I’m applying too much detergent and softener when I do it here, but I also don’t want him to go out of his way because of me every time I need my laundry. Ironing is another headache.”

“Hmm… All right, I’ll teach you that too,” I told her, getting up and starting to walk.

“Really?” she asked, following me.

“Yes, really. In fact, you should have told me about it sooner.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with that.”

We were walking down the corridor to where the place where the washing machine was, but I halted.

“It bothers me more that you don’t tell me about your problems,” I said too bluntly. I regrated it, but I couldn’t put a filter before opening my mouth. I could blame that to being tired from a lack of sleep, but I was also aware that I was a bit tired from her attitude of bottling things up until the last minute.

“It’s hard for me, ok?” she cried out, her voice cracking.

She began sobbing, looking down at her feet. I messed up really badly this time.

“I know Abby. I know. I’m sorry,” I told her while embracing her body and rubbing her back and hair.

She sobbed a lot of “I’m sorry” as I tried to calm her down.

There was still so much work ahead of us. Would we be ok? Would she? Could I do it?

Those questions scared me, but that only cemented even more my resolve. Was I ok in the head?

“I’m ok now. You can let go.”

“…No. I think I’ll hold on to you for a bit longer if you don’t mind.”

“…I don’t…”

She rubbed her head on my chest, looking for a more comfortable position. It hurt me a little, but I kept it to myself.

“…I can’t get the toaster to not burn my bread,” she said, completely out of the blue.

Before, I thought it was me who had trouble opening up, but now I saw that she was the one most troubled. Even something as insignificant as that sounded like a struggle for her to say out loud. I began wondering where her genuine cheerfulness ended, and an act started. And all because of that horrible woman.

I kissed the top of her head and made it so we could look at each other.

“I’ll see if we can figure out how to solve that after the washing machine, hmm?”

She nodded. Then she grew a bit red and her eyes glittered as her mouth opened and closed repeatedly. I waited for her to say what it was, but got a bit disheartened when she apparently gave up. She had placed her forehead on my sternum in defeat, it seemed. However…

“You’re my sunshine,” were her final words.

That sure got my blood pumping all the way to my head. And I was willing to bet she could feel my heartbeat, since it was going so wild.

I got what she meant, but she was making a huge overstatement.

“You give me too much credit,” I stammered.

“No, you just don’t notice how much of a great person you are,” she grumbled. “I think most people would have already given up on me. Everyone did before…”

I held her tightly.

“I won’t ever let you go. Ever.”

She started crying again, this time I hoped were tears of relief.

My friend, my dear best friend… how I wished we had met many years before. Maybe then she’d be less wrecked by emotional trauma.