The words blur together on the screen, the light emitting from your laptop has begun to give you a headache, one that forms behind your eyes and spreads around, throbbing and insistent, not fading even after you take two painkillers. Your stomach twists and turns, the sick feeling of anxiety already wrapping it’s inky, cold tendrils around you and plummeting you into further self doubt. You whine in the back of your throat and force yourself to write down your notes, lead wasting away as you match the notes provided to you from the instructors. You slump in your chair and force yourself to keep going. You don’t have time to waste, daylight is burning away and soon you’ll be trapped in your room with only darkness and your thoughts to keep you company.
“I just have to get through this chapter and I can rest,” you whisper encouragingly to yourself, gripping the mechanical pencil tighter, and when the lead snaps off you flinch. You can feel a lump form in your throat, and you take a shaky breath. You reach over and grab your water bottle that sits still closed and untampered with since you’ve brought it two hours ago. The ridges around the top press into your fingers, and the cool water hits your tongue but before you can even push the water further down your throat, you spit it back into the bottle, drips slipping past and wetting your shirt.
You’re physically unable to drink water. Your body rejects it, no matter how many times you try, it drips back into the water and leaves you feeling sicker than before. Tears burn in your eyes and your bottom lip trembles. You can feel the silent threat for sobs to break past you and consume you. You want to curl up into a ball and cry, to let the panic and anxiety consume your already fragile state of mind and let the tears wash over. But you know from experience it will do nothing except to strengthen said emotions, to weaken you further.
“Just one chapter-” the pencil scratches against the paper and the letters are shaky and slanted, opposite of your neat and tidy handwriting- “that’s all it is. One chapter.” Your voice wavers and tears flood your vision, and drip onto the paper, the soft blue lines spreading into a faded line, you suck in a harsh breath, the pencil falling onto the notebook. The heels of your palms press into your sockets and you try to steady your raspy breathing.
You sit in your room, a soft song played from your laptop is drowned out by your sobs, teeth burying themselves into your bottom lip in a pitiful attempt to muffle the cries. Your legs pinch together, a trembling taking over your body and running down your spine in a cold chill. The room closes in on yourself, your heart beating erratically, chest hurting in a sharp pain while an acidic taste fills your mouth. It’s all hopeless. Time ticks forward, your mouth pooling with dribble and you free that if you were to unclamp your teeth as they indent onto your skin, it would spill over your lap. Hot tears slip and burn as they curve past your face, the heels of your hand pressing tighter down, making colors appear behind your closed eyelids and the pain in your head sharpens. Everything feels all too much, your body on high sensitivity, the smell from the burning candle invading your senses and making you swallow the spittle, a croaking noise filling the room.
A sweet tune plays, your phone buzzing loudly against the wooden desk and you force yourself to peel away from the small cocoon that you have created in yourself. You blink away the tears, and your brows knit as Tomura’s name lights your phone screen. You let the buzzing continue and make your way to the bathroom, splashing water across your features and you wince at the image that reflects in the mirror. Your eyes are red and your bottom is red. You hear your phone buzz again and you switch the bright lighting in your room for a duller one that masks your features in shadows. It’s an unpleasant image but it'll mask the one that’s written over your face.You grab your phone and before you can accept the call, the constant buzzing stops and it’s replaced with a shorter one.
You sniffle and click on the message notification.
Tomura:
[Pick up]
Even after the little crying session, you still feel the heaviness in your body, weighing you down by the shoulders and the emptiness wraps around you- it exhausts you, the thought of talking to him making your eyes droop and when you catch a glimpse your notebook, displeasure courses through your body. Your phone buzzes again and you take in a long breath and release with a shuddering exhale.
You press at the accept button and your screen fills with his face while a corner is reserved for you.
“Where were you?” He lays on his bed and your mouth pulls into a thin line. “Whatever. Look, I know school started for you, so like how’s it going?” He looks at you through the screen and tilts his head. “Are you going to answer or not?”
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod slowly. “It’s uh,” your voice cracks and you shut your eyes, “it’s okay. Classes and notes,” your voice wavers and tears prick at your eyes, “you know the works.” His eyes narrow and he parts his lips. “How- How are you?” Your voice is high pitched and tight and you bite the inside of your cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” He’s quick to ask, and you see him sit up in his bed.
“Nothing,” you answer automatically. You look away from your phone and focus on the dimming screen of your laptop. “I’m fine.” He looks at you unconvinced with the answer. “Headache. Bad one.” You sniffle and instantly regret it, looking down shamefully at his gaze. “You know I get migraines when I’m stressed.”
“You’re stressed?” He looks at you with a curious expression and you place the phone down on your desk, giving him a clear view of your ceiling. “Hey, get back on here,” he protests.
“I’m- Look-” you flinch at the sound of your voice and scott yourself away from the desk- “I have a lot of work to do and-”
“You don’t sound well,” he comments.
“I’m fine Tomura,” you reply, balling your fists over your shorts. “I just-”
“What’s wrong? Why are you stressed?” He’s persistent, pushing forth without waiting for an answer.
You think about voicing your worries but they die before they have a chance to reach the tip of your tongue. “It’s nothing-”
“Is it because it’s online?”
You wince. You don’t want to say it outloud. You know you’ll cry if you’re forced to. “Tomu, really, I’m-”
“If that’s the case, you can talk to me. I might not under-”
“Tomura!” You shriek, and it comes out sounding as broken as you had feared. His name cracks on your tongue, sharp and it leaves a foregin feeling on your tongue. “I’m,” you sigh and all your energy has left you, leaving you enervated, “fine. I’m just stressed with school work. It’s fine. I-” you shake your head and reach over to your desk and grab the pencil, holding it limply between two fingers- “have work to do. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Before you hang up, he speaks again. “I’m coming over.”
“No!” You blink back at your outburst. “No,” you repeat softerly. “Tomura, it’s not safe and-”
“Like I care,” he grunts. “I’ll be over in a few.”
He hangs up and you're left staring at a black screen that flashes the time of the call until the phone dims and turns off. You hold your phone gingerly in your hands and slump against the seat. Your hand swipes at the mousepad and the screen of your laptop lights up and you watch the words of your notes with tired eyes. Your eyes flicker back to the notebook and you exhale. The tabs close and the music stops, the room in silence. You rise from the chair and walk to the bed, phone in hand and you flop yourself onto it, eyes staring up at the ceiling and phone against your chest.
You lay in bed, the exhaustion laid thick and tears still glistening in your eyes. You take in a soft breath and the blankets sit in a folded pile to the side of you. Your fingers dance above your stomach and you want to reach over and cover yourself but lack the energy to do so. You swallow tightly and let your eyes close.
-
A hand shakes you, digits curling around your shoulder and forcing you to awaken from your small nap. Your palms cover your eyes and slip down; you slowly rise onto your elbows. “Hm?” You hum out, running a hand through your hair. You let out a yawn and look over to Tomura who lets his hand linger on your shoulder. “Tomura?”
“I told you I was coming over,” he comments, taking off his jacket and peeling away his mask, letting it rest on the back of your chair, the mask resting above the keyboard of your laptop. “Were you asleep for long?”
You click your phone on and check the time. Your lips pull into a frown and you lean back against the pillows. “I’m not sure,” you whisper, rubbing a hand down your face. “I didn’t check the time before.”
He turns around to face you and walks towards the bed. The bed squeaks under his weight and he crawls over your legs, his socks scratching over your skin. “Can I stay the night?” He asks, pulling the blanket over both your bodies, gently tucking you in, ruining his semi-hard work when he lays back down and ruffles the tucking that he did.
A smile quirks on your lips and you turn your head. “You know you can.” You move to rest on your side and watch him as he brushes back his hair. Your hand brushes over his hand and he lets his hand falls to the front of him. His eyes come to a close as you run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. “You don’t have to ask.”
“It’s nice hearing you say yes,” he mumbles. His eyes open slowly and his hand comes to cup the side of your face. “So, how are you feeling?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze. He pulls a face and his hand pinches at your cheek, tugging on the skin. “Tomura,” you whine, your hand coming to a still on top of his head.
“You’re lying,” he mutters, letting go of your cheek. The skin around blossoms into a dark color as he rubs gingerly on the tugged skin. “Tell me the truth.”
“It’s-” He gives you a pointed look and you falter. You turn onto your back and your hand slips away from him and his hand returns to his side. “I’m not used to online classes,” you mumble weakly. “It’s harder than I thought,” your vision blurs. “I thought it was going to be okay,” you pause for a moment and lick our lips, “I thought I was going to be okay,” you emphasize on the word ‘I’, your lips pulling into a frown.
“You’re going to be okay,” Tomura tells you, his hand returns to the curve of your face and he pushes you to look at him. “I know you. You can get through a few online classes.”
You shake your head and turn your body back to him, eyes closing as your hands come to grip the front of your shirt. His hand leaves your face and curves to the back of your neck. “You don’t know that. This,” your voice cracks and your curl into yourself, “is harder than I thought it was and I’m scared I won’t keep up and what if this major isn’t right for me and fuck!” You whimper and your hand tightens and twists at your shirt. “Tomura,” you sob out his name and turn your face to bury it into the pillows. He pulls you close to him, your face hidden in his chest, and your hands slip from between your chest and his to warp around him, your hands fisting the back of his shirt, and you feel the tears spill over and and cling onto your eyelashes, and onto his shirt. “It’s just all too much,” your words muffled between him and your legs jerk towards him, his legs coming above yours, “I’m so tired by all of it and it just started and,” your sobs interrupt you and your mouth feels heavy, words too heavy to say and finish.
His hand slides down to rest between your shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his fingers drumming on your skin. “You don’t have to focus on everything at once,” he whispers softly. He shushes your protests and continues to speak. “Just one day at a time. That’s all you have to do. One day at a time.” His hand rubs small circles on your back, he hums to you, his chest vibrating and resonating with you. “You can do that-” he pulls away and tilts you up by your chin- “right?” He’s steady as he speaks to you, looking at you with soft eyes, his words without a trace of annoyance or malice and coated in sweet.
“I don’t know,” you murmur. “It’s all so much Tomura. The work is a lot, and- and it’s online and I’m not used to it and-” You voice cracks and you let out a small whine, shaking your head. He might never understand, never know the worry of stress from school, his whole life mapped and planned, but he’s trying for you, and with his earnest gaze, you can almost believe his words.
“You’re going to be okay. I know you can handle it. It’s just a bit of work. You don’t have to do it for long, okay? Just a couple years and then you’re done.” His thumb brushes away a tear and you turn your face to press your lips against his palm. “You’re going to be okay. I know you are. You’re a strong person.”
You sniffle and your lips ghost over his palm. “What if I can’t?” Your words break and they linger on your tongue like the bitterness after medicine and you find it difficult to swallow.
“You can.” He presses his lips against your temple and pulls away. “I know you can. You’re sweet and you can do so much. You’re a good person.” Your eyes water and you remain quiet, coving the back of his hand with your palm. “You can do this online thing. I’ll be right beside you. Through thick and thin.”
You glanced back at him and turn to face him, eyes still shining and your voice small like a child after a nightmare. “You promise?” You don’t want him to leave you. You need the one good thing in your life to remain good, to remain by your side and hold you tenderly, like you’re the most delicate piece of porcelain the world has to offer. You need him to stay.
He leans down and moves his chapped lips across your cheek, softly kissing your cheeks, catching tears upon his lips. He slowly moves down and captures you in a soft kiss that tastes of tears and love, his grip around you turning a tad firmer, holding you close and his tongue swipes across your bottom lip and he pulls away with a soft smile nudging his forehead against yours. “I promise,” he says softly, pulling you into another kiss. “I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”
You give a small nod and peck at his lips. “I’m not leaving you either,” you whisper against him. You pull yourself close to him, taking comfort in his warmth, in his presence, in everything that he is. You shuffle upwards, placing your head against his shoulder, turning and brushing your lips against his neck, your still damp cheeks wetting his skin, and your kiss the trails away, your hand coming between your chest and his, placing it flat against his heart, feeling the steady rhythm in your palm and against your nose.
“I love you,” Tomura says in a delicate voice against you, the words filling the silence, sweet and light, like the scent of freshly bloomed flowers. “No matter- you’ll get through this. And if you need me to decay someone or something, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”
You chuckle softly, pressing another kiss on his neck and your breath is hot against him. “Yeah, I know you would.” Your eyes close and you press yourself closer to him. “I love you too, Tomura.” Your fingers tap against his chest in a soft rhythm, dragging along the fabric of his shirt.