"Prisma? Hello! How have you been doing?" John's voice seemed to cling to Prisma's brain, like a gum on a school's desk.

   "Hello John! I've been doing well, actually, thank you for asking. How about you?" Prisma asked, her voice shaky. She was trying to hide the fear in her voice, and realizing how conspicuous it must have been, she feared; she was scared of John's rejection, scared of her brother, scared of getting hurt again.

   And then just as always, John acted fearless, compassionate and like a jerk at the same time. "Ok, cut the friendly bullshit Prisma. What happened?"

   Prisma let a tear fall and sighed, trying to act fine. "Well uh," She began, "you're very ... John. You're just, very ... How so?"

   "Don't change the subject. Please tell me what happened."

   And right after that Prisma did tell John about the event that disturbed her thoughts. She felt like her heart was falling down to her stomach with every one of her shaky words stumbling right out of her slim, pretty mouth. She sometimes felt so disappointed in herself, and the worst part was that she in parallel felt as if other people like John felt that way about her. Disappointed. And all she wanted to do was to stop pretending not disappointed.

   She stopped in mid sentence, about to mumble how cold her brother was. John stayed silent all the way through, not wanting Prisma to hear him crying. He truly loved her as a sister. But, he was afraid. Very afraid.

   Afraid of how he wanted to stroke her soft cheek with his thumb and push back the hair falling on her gorgeous face, afraid of how much he wanted to put the same thumb on her lips, and then connect them with his. He cared for her more than anyone. 

   Fuck it, he thought.

   "Prisma please don't cry." His softly mumbled on the telephone on his ear, as he was holding his knees up to his chest on his bed on a cold evening, sobbing. 

   Prisma realized that her best friend was also crying, and felt her chest tighten in anxiety. She wanted to hug him right there and then, but she was also worried of the fact that she made him feel like this herself, because holding on to someone who causes you pain will only cause more. It was just like hugging a cactus in her mind, the only difference being that she felt like a time bomb, with time equal to x.

   She only hung up the telephone and softly spent the rest of her evening crying, and letting it all out, just so she could feel happy again; John was going to introduce her to a friend.