𝔼𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪

Brighton, UK, September 3rd, 2018

I walk into my small apartment after my first day at university, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Everything feels new and overwhelming. I reach into my pocket to grab my fidget toy, the little object that helps me calm down, but my fingers touch nothing but fabric. Panic rises in my chest as I realize I’ve lost it.

Taking a deep breath, I try to focus on the familiar sounds of my apartment: the hum of the refrigerator, the distant noise from the street below. I squeeze my hands together, willing the anxiety to fade, but it clings to me like a shadow.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. The sound startles me, and I glance at the clock. Who could it be? I approach cautiously, my heart pounding, and when I open the door, I see him. The guy from university, the one I’ve seen around campus. He looks like he just ran up the stairs, panting heavily, his cheeks flushed.

He holds out my fidget toy, the one I thought I lost forever. Relief washes over me, and I can’t help but smile. I take the toy from him, feeling the familiar texture in my hand, and I squeeze it gently, my heart finally beginning to calm.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. After a moment of hesitation, I look at him and ask, “Would you like something to drink?”