Cuddling Somewhere

It was a grey afternoon in February when Bel's doorbell rang. With a sigh, she stood from the sofa, walking slowly towards the door, the bell buzzing again.

"Alright, give it a rest!" She called, struggling with the faulty lock.

Eventually she managed to open the door to reveal Freddie. His eyes were rimmed red, his hands shaky.

"Can I come in?" He asked quietly, lifting his head to look at her.

"Of course," She pulled the door open to let him in, "Freddie, are you alright?"

It was obvious he wasn't as he sank into the sofa, leaning back and staring at the ceiling .

Bel sat next to him, taking his hand in hers. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" She asked gently, stroking the gap between his thumb and forefinger gently, waiting patiently for him to answer. Freddie was one of those people who tended to clam up if you weren't careful about how you broached a topic.

"It's-" He sighed, "It's just-" This cycle was commonplace with Freddie, you just had to wait until he had his words properly formed before he could put them into a coherent sentence.

"Would some whiskey help?" Bel asked, getting a nod in response. She watched him as she poured the whiskey into two glasses, his expression glazed as his slender fingers picked at the sofa. He seemed to be in a world of his own, consumed in his thoughts.

Taking her place next to him, she pressed the small glass into his hand. They stayed like that for a while longer, drinking the golden brown liquid, Freddie in a hope that it would numb the pain, Bel because it was there and she had an excuse.

"You know, you don't-"

"Have to tell you?" Freddie interrupted, turning to her with a smile that contained no humour. His eyes were empty, deep voids of nothingness, none of the usual emotion and passion that could be detected there with a mere glance.

"Mum died." He said simply, before downing the last of his drink. His hand shook as he placed the glass on the table in front of him, his fingers scratching gently at the hairs on the back of his neck.

Bel was stunned, opening her mouth to say something, but thinking better of it as she saw Freddie's eyes begin to brim with tears. His voice sounded thick and wobbled as he said, "I couldn't – stay there. I needed to give Dad some-" He broke off, the first tear cascading down his face.

The next action didn't take any thought. Reaching out, she pulled him close, letting him rest his head against her shoulder. His tears soaked into her blouse, his previous silence turning into painful sounding sobs, his body moving with the sound.

After a while, he stood up, pacing up and back once before saying, "You'll stay with me?" Those four simple words hit a nerve in Bel. It had been enough with her best friend who usually covered his emotions easily sobbing into her shoulder.

"Of course." She replied, not bothering to say anymore as she stood, taking him into her arms. She could tell from the shaky breaths that he was still crying, his frail figure holding her close to him. This is what he needed in those situations: someone to hold, someone to reassure him.

"She's never coming back." He murmured quietly, finally acknowledging the obvious that had only just crossed his mind.

Bel said nothing, only held him closer. Her beautiful boy, her poor, broken boy. They remained that way for what seemed an age, swaying gently until the tears subsided.

This is what he needed. This was all he needed.