too close to home

“My roommate’s sick,” Tyler says. “Or... thinks he’s sick. He’s coming home, and he wants to quarantine. Without me.”“Whaaaaaat?” Dylan says. There’s something so flat to it. “But you’re such a nice guy.”“And I can’t,” Tyler says. Acid in his throat, or glass, but he has to say it. He has to ask, because if he doesn’t... He just needs this, right now. “I can’t go to my parents, because they—”“Oh no, Tyler,” Dylan says, and it’s how he used to sound, a million years ago. “And you don’t wanna be alone.”Any other conversation, any other real one, Dylan wouldn’t say that so seriously. Like he’s sorry, like he still cares. Like it matters at all what Tyler’s feeling.“I just need—a room,” Tyler says. Shutting his eyes, scrubbing at his eyelids. Trying not to get overwhelmed by the feeling. “You don’t have to talk to me.”“What an offer,” Dylan says, and he’s back to dry again. “I guess I’m the only guy you know with a house, huh?”“You’re not the only one,” Tyler says.