#parihoonmain

Honestly, these are the best prompts. They let me go back in time.

“Would you get mad if I fell asleep on you? You’re so comfy..”

His immediate response was a chuckle. Only Sophia would say that about him. Comfy. He was most likely the skinniest boy in their year. It was just one of those mysteries, given what and how much he actually ate. The scantiness of flesh covering his bones was a constant worry of his mother, which she attributed to an “unhealthy lifestyle” and “lack of fellowship”, whatever she meant. Damian, of course, had formed his own theory; fast metabolism, he read about it a couple times. “No, I won’t, though I think we’ll be there soon,” he said, looking out the window. The bus they were in was nearing a crossroads he thought he recognised. He had been to this museum they were heading to several times with his mother before, but going anywhere on a school field trip always felt more exciting. “But go ahead, I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“Do I say anything interesting when I talk in my sleep?”

“Hm, let’s see…” He stroked his chin with a hand, assuming an exaggerated thoughtful look. “Just now, I think you listed all the names of your patients today, emphasising on a certain ‘Mr. Olly’ who was ‘the most precious ball of sunshine you have ever met’, although I have a feeling that ‘Kirk’ was the one whom you would steal given the chance.” It was true that Damian thought he had heard her say those names in her sleep, but he made up all the other specifics. “Oh, and you took time in explaining to me the perfect diet for a parrot,” he added with a grin.

“Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

Hearing that made him smile into his phone. “Thanks for the well wishes, Doctor,” Damian replied. “You have a good night, too.” He laid the phone down on his bedside table when the line went dead. Damian’s original intention of calling had been to get an update about Baron the Pug—the poor pup had been hospitalised for 2 days due to some sort of nose infection—but it had sort of evolved from that. It had been a nice chat, at any rate. With the core problem resolved, the pup would be able to go home before the weekend, just in time for his mother’s visit. That night, Damian dreamt about wiping Baron the Pug’s slobber off his laptop keyboard, making tea for his mother and spilling it on his living room carpet, and copying off Sophia’s paper on a Health Education test he did not study for.

“Want me to sing you a lullaby?”

Congrats, you win terrified-Damian.

So if you’re in contact with tumblr user @parihoonmain, could you please help me? She hasn’t been online in two years and I’m not sure if she intends on using it again and I’d really like that URL. Please, if you have any way of contacting her, let me know.