behind the streams | dnf

twelve | lights

Like when we were 12 and 14. 

I remember I was two years older than him, yet he still scared me so much. My first impression of him was overly aggressive at times, but super sassy and completely loaded with comebacks at every moment, tongue ready to snap at you anytime. It was interesting to find someone as stubborn as me, with the same typical immature humor and the same spirit, but I feel like that's why we clicked so well. And why we're still so close. 

When I had texted him during Tommy's stream, where the tension was building secretly behind the cameras, when he told me he knew how excluded he was becoming. 

His words. They hurt me. I hurt for him.

I think, as one of the people I care about most in the world, his pain was able to root itself in me, affecting me as well. I felt awful, that I had become someone who brought him pain. Even though I was on the verge of furious when I found out he never asked George to join, his honesty and rare vulnerability made me feel forget caring about something as selfish as that. 

The thought of it eats me up inside. I can't imagine how he feels. How he takes it so well, how he's okay with it. It's a difficult thing to lay to rest but I have to trust his word. 

I move onto George's texts. Or, lack thereof. He's finally acknowledged the chiding messages I've sent him several days ago, but made no effort to further conversation. 

Of course, we've been in the groupchat on the Dream SMP server, but he hasn't directly contacted me about anything. 

I'm pretty sure nothing's wrong, but it still feels foreign. It's almost become a rite to talk to him as often as everyday. Like habit.

~

It's almost 11 now. I long for the invitations of sleep, the slightest sensation that drag my eyelids down. Yet I'm as eager and keen as I was 5 hours ago. I don't know what's wrong. Something's off. 

 I turn off the phone and grab the LED lights remote in my hand, tracing my fingers over the smooth bubbles. Play around with the colors, customizing personals as well. I settle on a teal-green glow, hoping that it'll be calming.

*small tw for panic attack 

Sitting stiffly, looking around my room, I suddenly feel tense. The silence becomes deafening as not a single sound is heard. My hands are clasped tightly together, knuckles whitening. I begin losing feeling in my limbs.

I feel more and more unable to move my joints. I press my lips together nervously. 

I can feel my heart beating unsteadily. Thumping, tripping, dropping. 

Fear of no tangible thing begins crawling along my skin, leaving me frozen in place. I swallow incessantly, throat becoming sore with the motion. 

A slowly rising wave of an unidentifiable emotion begins trickling in.  

I can feel my room pressing around me. 

I can feel the air choking me.

Compressing my chest, making it hard to breathe. 

I don't want to be here. 

I don't want to be here. 

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Then why am I scared?

How do I get out? 

I need to escape. 

A gasp breaks me out of my paralysis. Without even thinking about it, my shaking hand reaches to turn on my phone.  A quick glance at the time tells me 'don't do it don't do it don't do it' but I can't.