(Sakusa and Atsumu have been married for 5 years. Oh, in this, Sakusa is an artist and Atsumu is a writer because I don't write vollyball.) Part 2 will be released later!!!
Sakusa could feel the constant thrum of anxiety in the back of his mind; when he was walking in the street and he met someone, or a while he was finishing a piece for the gallery, or when he was sitting with Atsumu on the couch, shaming on a bad movie with whispered words. Sakusa didn't know Atsumu noticed or not,
He hoped he didn't.
Sakusa hated the annual family dinners that he had with his parents, he hated their dark eyes boring into his, he hated their sharp words and even sharper lies; he hated them. And after the dinner, after shutting up his mouth and watching them talk shit about him in their pitched voices, he could feel the doubt and dread fill into his mind.
Atsumu had been right there when he had gone home from the dinner, rapped up in a blanket and watching an old french movie for writing ideas, his eyes sleepy and hair puffy. Old Sakusa would have called it disgusting, and today Sakusa thought so too, but the small smile that Atsumu had given him as Sakusa slipped of his shoes and came close to the couch to Atsumu had reminded what he really thought about this; about Atsumu.
That he was adorable.
But the thrum of anxiety didn't stop, the doubt didn't vanish like Sakusa had hoped. Sakusa tried to ignore his mind. He tried to ignore the reality of what was happening.
Work had been tough.
His art pieces were close to average, his feedback had been rough and Sakusa felt tired. Whenever he would think about how his job was shit, his mind would supply very helpfully the conversation that he had with his parents just a few days ago.
"How is work going?" Sakusa looked up from his tuna salad, and found his eyes trained on his father. The word "work" was heavily emphasised. Sakusa took another bite of the cherry tomato, he had already asked if the chef had used gloves while making the salad, he had gotten a yes. His mum had looked at him weirdly after he had asked that, but he didn't care, he needed to know if they had used them.
"Okay," Sakusa lied.
His mum had raised an eyebrow, his dad had hummed. The conversation was over.
They had given him a envelope full of money after the dinner, he had given it back to the politely and muttered back to them in a bitter voice;
"You can't buy time and love, mum and dad, you gotta earn it."
He had walked out after that.
His mind still felt clouded
....
Sakusa could feel the attack coming.
He was sitting on his bed, looking through some offical papers. His breath became short, his eyes became big, the world swam in front of him, his knees became weak. He tried to stand, to get help, to do something. But his legs became jelly, he tumbled to the ground in a heap.
His first thought was jumbled, his second thought was thanking the cleaning good that he had earlier vacuumed the floor, and his last though was asking for help.
He could see absolutely nothing except the jumbled lights and wooden floor, and second was two sets of pretty eyes staring into his eyes.
"Omi, take a deep breath with me, alright?"
He tried to breath, it felt hard to, it felt like he had completed a very hard painting or had played a five set game, he felt like he couldn't catch his breath.
"Now, release."
They did this a few times, Sakusa didn't feel any better.
He remembered nothing except pretty eyes and a a pair of arms pulling him up and slipping him in bed,
He felt a kiss on his forehead and a small "goodnight" whispered into his ear.
He felt his eyes close shut.
YOU ARE READING
Coloured ( sakuatsu )
Fanfiction(I had this idea and I am going to Write ) (mentions of panic attacks and neglectful parents) (some light angst and tooth rotting fluff) Sakusa has a panic attack, and Atsumu knows what to do. "How can the world be so cruel? your light skin sparkle...
