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C H I C K E N

It's Purely Circumstantial.

Sweat sticks to his body like a determined leech, jolting him awake. He presses his hands together to stop his fingers from trembling.

It’s no use.

Their room is silent. As he inhales, his chest feels like there’s too much air and suddenly he can’t breathe.

Fear grips him as he jumps out of bed, hurrying to the familiar bed adjacent to his.

He slips underneath the covers, and nudges the portly boy in the hopes that he will give him refuge for the night. The boy rolls over, allowing for James to fit comfortably.

“Thanks Peter,” he says quietly.