Attack.

Foster had come over for another game.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know any really good lawyers, would you?" He moved his rook.

My mind was still focused almost entirely on the game, so I responded without so much as thinking about it. "Is this in reference to your upcoming paternity suit?"

"What?!"

"I, that is, I heard the woman in the hall..." I trailed off, I was miserable and panicky again.

"Oh my God, Gabriel, she was kidding. She does that a lot." He gave it a second thought. "Were you eavesdropping on us?"

"I-" I was shaking now, my hands gripping the table hard enough that I was leaving indentations. "I could not help..."

"Whoa there." Foster got out of his chair and drug it around the table closer to me. "Calm down," he said, resting his hands on my shoulders, he seemed a little surprised at the heat emanating from me. "I'm not mad. I'm not even irritated. It'll be funny when you stop freaking out."

I seized up even more when he touched me, I sat almost frozen in my chair. "I cannot...Foster..."

My breathing was coming in uneven pants.

He ran his hands down my arms, trying to soothe me. He pitched his voice much lower and quieter than before. "What do you need? How can I help?"

I shook my head, my face pale, fingers still clutching the table helplessly, my trembling increased as the seconds ticked by. After a moment I shoved myself away from the table and away from Foster, bolting for the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.

"Gabriel? Gabriel!" Foster shouted, tripping over the chair in his haste to follow, but I had locked the door. "Gabriel, are you okay?" he yelled.

After awhile I emerged, still trembling a little and with a sickly green color over my skin. My eyes darted around the kitchen until they finally landed on Foster.

"You remained." My voice was low, quiet. Defeated.

"Well, yeah. I didn't know what was wrong with you. I wanted to make sure you didn't need a doctor or something."

"I have no need of medical assistance." My voice was completely devoid of inflection, almost robotic. I was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door. "You may return to your apartment if you wish. I do not require..." I trailed off, I didn't know how to finish the sentence and I didn't have the energy to try. My gaze left Foster's and lingered on the table, the indentations, the chess pieces scattered everywhere. I couldn't help but feel terrible.

"Hey," he said quietly, approaching me with his hands held out in invitation. "Come here."

I stared at his hands but I dared not move.

"Please." He took another step forward.

I didn't know how long he stood there waiting, but after some time I allowed my fingers to rest over his palms. His hands were soft and warm. He took my trembling hands in his own and led me away from the kitchen and into the living room.

It was darker in there but he didn't bother to turn on the lights as he led me over to his pile of cushions and sat down, he tugged on me to join him. "Okay, first things first," He murmured, keeping his voice quiet and calm, "apparently I don't understand how your sense of humor works just yet and I apologize for being an asshole about it. I wasn't accusing you of spying on me. I wasn't mad at you. I was just trying to get you to laugh. Second," he barreled on, "no, I am not in the middle of a paternity suit. That was my friends terrible idea of a joke." I felt a spark of confusion and it must have showed. "Don't worry about it. And third..." he squeezed my hands in his, wincing when all it did was make me shudder. "Are you okay?"

"No," I whispered, retracting my hands and letting them fall in his lap instead.

"Can I do something for you?" I couldn't respond. "I mean, would it help if you could get out of here for a bit-"

"No." My tone was a bit more forceful, and my eyes remained glued on my lap.

"You sure? You've been cooped up here for quite some time now. Maybe if you had some fresh air-"

"No," I cut him off again. "I cannot...I cannot leave."

"Why not? I don't understand."

I closed my eyes and just breathed for a few minutes, gathering my energy. "If I leave," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper, "it will happen again. Having one such episode during the course of a day is enough."

"Okay," Foster returned. "Can I get you something else? Water? Tea? Are there any meds that can help you?"

"No."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No." I whispered, I wouldn't look at him.

"Okay, then I won't." He smiled. He held out a hand again, face up. "Is it all right if I touch you? Or will that set you off again?"

"Why do you wish to touch me?"

Foster shrugged. "It's just what I do. I'm a touchy kind of person."

"I do not mind being touched," I said quietly.

"Glad to hear it," he returned, slinging an arm over my shoulder.

We spent an eternity in silence. My rigidity slowly melted under his arm, and after awhile I began leaning against him a bit. My breathing had evened out.

I finally spoke again. "We did not finish our game."

"No, we didn't. Do you want me to bring it in here and we can give it another try?"

"That would be acceptable."

He smiled, squeezing my shoulders affectionately before leaving to retrieve the board.

We finished the game.

"Good night, Gabriel," Foster said, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep, will you? You've been running yourself too hard."

My face turned an almost alarming shade of red, and I wasn't nearly as graceful getting to my feet as I normally am. "G-good night, Foster," I stammered. What had possessed him to do that?

He smiled charmingly and showed himself out.

I feel as though I have been kissed for the first time. I panicked soon after he left, leaving another indentation in the fridge.


Gabriel.