My head was nice and fuzzy by the time I got home. I promptly stripped off all of my clothes and crawled into bed. I lay there tiredly for a few moments before I realized I needed to call Texas. I scrambled to plug my phone into the charger before I pressed the call button. It rang a few times before he answered. It took him longer to answer than it normally would, which made me slightly curious.

“Hey.” He sounds tired.

A yawn escapes my lips. “Hey back.” I reply as I lie back into my pillow, placing the phone next to my head as I stare at my ceiling.

“Did you have fun?” He asks.

“I did; actually, I’m glad I went.” A genuine smile forms across my lips.

“Good, I’m glad.” It sounds like he is shifting around a lot.

“What are you up to?” I ask.

“Not much, I’m pretty restless right now if I’m being completely honest.” He sighed and now I can hear the building irritation in his voice.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I sit up.

“Lets change the subject.” He suggests dismissively.

“Uh, sure.” I find myself quietly frowning.

I want to know because I want to help him but maybe I can’t. And if he wanted help, he would have told me or asked for help. 

“What do you look like now?” He suddenly asks.

“What?”

“It’s funny but I can’t help but picture you how you were in Arturo’s phone, those images with your voice.” He chuckles trepidatiously. “It just doesn’t fit so I’m just curious.”

“Uh… I don’t know.” I try my best to think of how to describe my looks to someone, especially someone who has photos of me from almost probably ten years ago at eighteen years old. “I have a lot more muscle now, no more curves, my hair is short.” I hum as I think, “I feel like my jawline is more masculine I guess and the rest of my face. I shave because facial hair is itchy but I can grow a full beard if I want to. Oh, and I chopped off the watermelons from my chest so there’s that.”

He laughed at the watermelons remark but then a few minutes of silence followed before he broke it, “I was thinking maybe we could face time.” He suddenly said.

I could feel my chest tighten and my mouth dry with anxiety. But my stupid fuzzy brain caused my mouth to speak before my brain finished processing, “Sure.”

“Is now okay?” Something told me he desperately wanted to see my face right now. As if it would assure him that I was in fact real. I knew that’s how he was feeling because that was exactly how I was feeling. I needed to see the person behind the voice, behind the texts, on the other side of the phone. I needed to solidify that he actually existed and wasn’t some cruel creation of my deeply lonely subconscious. Before I could convince myself not to, I hit the video call button on the phone. My heart threatened to attack me as the chime toned and I stared at a black screen. He didn’t answer right away, which made my anxiety skyrocket, but I eventually came back down to earth when the phone loaded his camera.

My phone screen was blessed with the image of a man who looked almost like a viking god. He had a jawline I could only ever dream of having. A muscular and massive frame. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. My eyes were immediately drawn to his vibrant green eyes, that were a mixture of a forest moss color and a seafoam green. His hair was a textured cropped  cut, a soft brown with tones of copper and ginger highlights that matched his facial hair, which was also kept short. His eyelashes were a light copper color that made his eyes shine even brighter than they already did. 

I was momentarily speechless as I continued to stare at him while a smile spread across his lips, “Hi.” His tone was oddly soft. His tone was naturally rough and normally pretty pointed at all times.

“Hi.” I could feel my cheeks flush.

He shifted to lay on his side with his head propped up on his hand, holding the phone with his free hand. He was wearing a tight-fitting gray hoodie and probably matching sweatpants. “I guess you are real.” He jested.

“That’s my line.” I mimicked his pose as I laid down on my bed. My bedsheets cover my chest as I cuddle back into a comfortable position. 

He laughed, and as I watch the way his expression changes when he does so, I know I am a fucking goner. He’s so handsome when he laughs. I could watch him laugh for hours. Shit I could watch him in general for hours. Okay, this was a bad idea, this is so fucking dangerous.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Huh?” I blink at him and then force a chuckle, “I’m fine, just a little buzzed.”

“You just look like you have a lot on your mind.” He states as he shifts, getting more comfortable as he stares into the phone as though he can see right through me. There was, in fact, a shit ton on my mind. There was always way too much on my mind. My mind was a fucking battlefield twenty-four-seven, but no one had ever noticed before. How did he know? What gave it away? I was certain that I wasn’t making any strange facial expressions or showing any body language that suggested I was dealing with some inner turmoil.

“You wouldn’t understand.” My voice is low and muffled.

“Try me.” He fires back.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip.

I need to think about this carefully.

Fuck it.

No, I don’t.

“You’re really fucking hot.” I sound confident in my words, but I am anything but.

His eyes widen momentarily as he stares at me. “Oh,” he says.

That wasn’t a bad reaction?

“I’m not sure how to respond to that.” He adds.

And there it is. I want to vomit. I quickly hit the end button.