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Hollis felt...

Never mind, it didn’t matter.

Walt made his family eat chipped beef on toast, something so archaic his ma stared at it for a minute, then stared at Hollis too, before mumbling something about eating this once when she was a little girl.

Hollis’s ma was from Georgia, and he hadn’t met his grandma. Walt quickly lied about finding the recipe in that old dusty cookbook from the corner of the kitchen counter. But Mrs. Brown’s eyes were a little wet. She ate and went straight up to her room instead of watching TV.

Walt took them to bed early after a quiet shower, quick as usual in the dark.

Hollis lay awake for long hours until Walt fell asleep, then waited longer than that.

Walt had placed his phone on the desk, closer than ever before. Hollis flipped his hand over and scraped it across the sheets. Slow and careful. Even though Walt’s eyes were closed, Hollis could feel the cool wood and the edge of the bed in his ocean of darkness.

By the time he was able to get there, it was long past midnight.

Hollis took a moment to catch his breath and rest, then he stretched his fingers out until they touched the edge of the desk.

Their heart picked up speed.

Suddenly, his hand was light again.

It reached out for his phone and closed around it and, to Hollis’s horror, their eyes opened just a crack.

Walt watched him. Quiet and awake, bleary with the warm weight of sleep.

Then, without speaking or acknowledging Hollis’s terror and their racing heart, Walt gave Hollis control over his own fingers again.