#slainson

the world felt like it was slipping away from him. he could hardly open his eyes. he couldn’t think straight, he just kept thinking about how he GOT HERE. god, he’d made a mistake hadn’t he?? and now connor...connor was here. his breaths are shallow, slow. each one is getting HARDER to take. 

“what...CONNOR what’s happ-- happening??”

at the question of trust he gives a slow nod of his head. he was guessing he would call an AMBULANCE or something. he hated hospitals - but connor knew what he was doing. but as the other instruction left the others mouth he was CONFUSED. “repeat??” how was that supposed to help?? 

everything sounded FUZZY, like it wasn’t really there. he’s convinced he’s not hearing connor right - even though he had gotten closer. 

“No.” He immediately shot that thought down. “Just don’t like being in closed places.” Flashes of he and his siblings being enclosed in a closet while their parents fought rose to the surface and he quickly clamped it down instead focusing on the matter at hand.

He tried the doorknob again as if it was magically going to open this time around, kicking it and then pushing against it. “Fuck!” He pushed against the door again before slammed his palm against the door. “Whoever’s on the other side of the door has three seconds to let us out if you wanna live to see tomorrow.” Because there was no way that they were going to be stuck in here for longer than a day nor was he going to entertain the thought that the door had been closed on its own. It was Halloween, sure, but that kind of stuff only happened in movies and shit and not in real life. 

    he sits on his couch, knees drawn up to his chest. it wasn’t a position quinton took often, at least not when people were around. HE DIDN’T EITHER. on a good day, quin would understand how FRUSTRATING it is. to be around someone that you cared for and have them just shut down on you. arms move to wrap around his legs, giving a squeeze. GROUNDING EXERCISES, or whatever shit his new therapist of two weeks had said to him. it was hard, getting better. it fucking HURT, trying to remove all of the coping skills that have developed through the years. he lets out a shaky breath, god he could use a drink. but he’s trying - for connor - to drink less. 

    “CONNOR, huh??” words pause for a moment, he’s THINKING. his brain was too loud sometimes, hard to ORGANIZE EVERYTHING. but a smile soon grows on his face, letting out a puff of laughter. “he’s -  i dunno man. he’s SPECIAL. he makes me feel shit, y’know?? i don’t really uh - know how to EXPLAIN IT. you fuckin’ know, ‘m shit with emotions.” he takes another sip of his whisky, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. 

     he was a SHIT LIAR, specifically when it came to connor. the other knew too much about him, was able to see through the facade he put up. he takes in a deep breath, seriously contemplating closing the door on him. further pushing him away. it was the right thing to do, or so he thought. a long SIGH passes chapped lips. sunken eyes deliver a roll as he turns, leaving the door open for connor to enter the apartment. which was a MESS, more than usual. clothes discarded around the small studio apartment, empty beer and whisky bottles littered around - but no plates, no food waste. 

      quin walks over this his couch, siting down, arms crossing over his chest as he looks at connor. there was so much he wanted to say, but he COULDN’T. like thank you for caring, and i really do miss seeing you. but instead, he tries to LIE again. 

everyone   knows   freddie   isn’t   the   type   to   turn   down   a   dare.   he   hasn’t   realized   yet   that   this   very   fact   has   made   him   the   target   of   a   multitude   of   progressively   stupid   dares,   including   the   time   that   he   had   to   light   his   sister’s   underwear   on   fire   or   the   time   he   had   to   eat   a   cockroach.   tonight   is   no   exception.

it’s   nearing   midnight   on   halloween   by   the   time   freddie   finally   sets   out   for   the   greendale   woods.   he’s   still   in   his   bright   yellow   costume   (   stupid,   really.   he’s   gone   as   the   mustard   to   katie’s   ketchup   ),   which   makes   him   look   even   more   like   an   idiot   as   he   enters   the   forest.   he   can’t   help   but   curse   under   his   breath,   because   everyone   else   is   back,   getting   increasingly   drunk,   at   his   house,   while   he’s   stuck   entering   these   creepy   woods.   thankfully,   he   isn’t   sober—   he’s   had   enough   alcohol   to   create   a   permanent   buzz   for   the   rest   of   the   night.

@slainson​ sent “that was a brave thing you did today.” for QUINTON // ACCEPTING !! 

eyes narrow in connors direction, and he can’t help but laugh. “BRAVE??” connor was right. it was incredibly brave. it was his first AA meeting. it felt wrong and so UNCOMFORTABLE. but he knew it was for the better. in his mind, he felt WEAK. nowhere close to brave. he wanted so badly to be able to figure everything out on his own. accepting HELP was never quintons strong suit.