Howard had been seeing less and less of Vince recently. He put it down to the fact he was sick and would probably be spending a lot of time in his bed. He respected the fact that he needed space, but, it left him in a constant state of panic. Howard was a very conscious person. He thought a lot and often ended up bringing himself into a state of anxiety just thinking about the possible outcomes of situations that were yet to happen, or if they had happened, his thoughts made the outcomes so much more likely, despite being as absurd as they were.
He was sitting behind the counter, down in the shop. He'd been spending a lot of time down there. Although no one ever came, it was easier for him to lie to himself that he was busy working, than sitting around unable to help his friend who was obviously in pain. As he sat there, he began to wonder as to what Vince was doing. It was the middle of winter and with their radiators being as shoddy as they were, there was no doubt that Vince was probably cold. He decided that he'd go up and check on him, make sure he was okay, or, if not okay, alive.
He climbed the stairs and went to the airing cupboard, lifting out blue and cream crocheted blanket. It was one that Howard had made when he'd worked at the zoo. He'd gone through a phase of creating things that he deemed would be useful, or sellable. Along with his vast range of trumpet socks, he'd created this blanket. He was very fond of it and had never had the heart to put it in the shop, as he feared it would be the one thing he'd made that would actually sell.
He held the blanket to his chest, taking a moment for himself, just focussing on the soft wool and the sound of his breathing. A few moments later, he sighed and made his way to Vince's bedroom door. Usually, by early evening, there would be strange music blaring from Vince's CD player, but, today, everything was quiet. Too quiet. However, the bedroom light was on, which kept hope alive that he was possibly awake and up for maybe having a cup of tea and a chat. Howard knocked on the door and spoke softly. "Vince? I brought you a blanket, can I come in for a second?"
"Don't come in!" a weak voice called back with all its might. Howard cocked his head to the left on the other side of the door. He put his hand flat against the wood, as if that would somehow make him closer to his best friend. "Vince, is something wrong? You can't stay in there all your life. I've only seen you twice in the last four days. It's Friday now, come out and watch a movie or something,-please?" No sound came from Vince's room for a while after Howard spoke. He wasn't too sure how to respond, but, he tapped the door again with his hands. "Please, Vince, can I come in?"
Vince again was silent, so Howard opened the door ever so slightly. He couldn't see Vince, his only view was of Vince's wardrobe, and the end of the bed. "Vince, are you…?" he took a deep breath and opened the door further, surveying the area and allowing his heart to sink in his chest as he caught sight of his younger friend.
Vince was sitting on his bedroom floor with a dark blue blanket draped over his shoulders. He was sitting with his legs crossed and his back arched, as if he was trying to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world, hide away from the reality that he was having to sink more and more into with every new day that he woke up. Howard padded to the other male's side and sat down beside him. There was absolutely no sound in the flat, nor outside. In fact, to Howard, the entire world had gone still and quiet. He put his arm around his friend and pulled him close, letting his head rest against his chest. "There, there, little man." was all he managed to whisper before he felt himself getting a lump in his throat.
A few moments later, Vince inhaled, his breath shaky and sniffling from his quiet sobs. he said nothing but pushed forward the book that had been sitting in front of him on the floor. Howard, wrapped the crocheted blanket around them both and looked to where Vince's index was pointing. "It's a scrapbook." Vince said, his shaking voice barely breaking a whisper. "I don't want you to forget me, so, I made you this."
Howard's felt the his world begin to crumble and crush him in the process. "Vince," he began, a tear trailing down his cheek, "I'd never forget you, not in a million years. Nothing can separate us, you know that." Vince just nodded, hiding his face in Howard's shirt. "Keep it though, yeah?" he whimpered, "Just encase."
Howard nodded his head and held Vince close. "Of course. It's you and me all the way."