June 4, 1986 - Like Someone's Walking on My Grave

[faithfulclublet]

He isn't sure why it's something that happens. Isn't sure why things can get so absolutely overwhelming when everyone and everything else is still so sunny. It's likely at least partially to do with the same hormones that are having him grow like a weed, but he doesn't think that's all.

He especially doesn't think that's all today, when he wakes up from a nightmare he can't remember to a sense of dread that lingers the rest of the day.

It's got him moving in a haze. It's got him not really paying attention when people are talking to him.

It has him struggling to string the words together when he finally realizes he needs to answer a question he didn't hear, "--Sorry. What was that, again?"

Comments

[theleast]

He sounds a little brighter. He sounds a little more like himself. It brightens her own worried smile just a hair.

"Have you eaten? That-- that'll help too, I tihnk."

[faithfulclublet]

"...Food."

Yeah, that'd probably be a good thing to have more of, wouldn't it. At least he can manage a sheepish look.

"Ate a little bit earlier. Probably should go get something more substantial, though."

[theleast]

"Andrew."

The fondness in her huff is probably abundantly clear. Her attention drops almost instantly to her own bag, digging and turning up, disappointingly, only a candy bar--offered instantly and with insistence.

[faithfulclublet]

"I wasn't hungry."

Still isn't, particularly.

"'nd I can't take your food, 'gine."

[theleast]

"It's a candy bar. And I insist."

Only in part because it's an entirely good reason to reach out, briefly, and squeeze his elbow.

[faithfulclublet]

"All right, then."

If she insists. And also because of the encouragement her touch gives.

[theleast]

She can't stop the pleased smile. She doesn't begin to attempt to.

"And get some rest, Andrew-- please."

[faithfulclublet]

"I will, 'gine." A squeeze of her arm, "Promise."