Hello Daddy... (CHARMIE)

Ch7

Going back to the mansion with the little duffle of his clothes felt fucking ridiculous, because now Armie knew that was all he owned in the entire universe and even thought he wasn't pitying Timmy or anything, he still looked....aghast, or some other fancy fucking word for 'totally freaked out', and now Timmy was going inside his huge stupid house with his one duffel bag full of clothes and hey, maybe he was having an panic attack.

What did Armie see in him? He was lanky, lean, scrawny. He didn't have blowjob lips, or that big an ass. And his personality was harsh, awkward, always anxious. Armie didn't want him, nor did he love him.

He's doing it because he pity's you. You're as low as dirt- no you're lower than dirt, you don't even exit to him. You'll probably be here for a week before he kicks you out... just like your parents did.

His mind has a voice of its own as his head continues to spin out of control.

You are unlovable.

No one cares.

No one.

Not even Armie loves you.

You can't be loved.

You don't deserve love.

His breath became short and quick, as he realized he was in fact having a panic attack, so he did the only think he knew to do when he was having a panic attack, and slowly sunk to the floor in the middle of the fucking hallway trying to keep his breathing steady and control himself before it got any worse.

He watched Armie continue to walk away into the living room with his stupid bag around his shoulder, unaware that he was leaving Timmy behind in the hall.

Timmy wanted to scream for Armie to come back, but he couldn't speak -he could barely breathe for fuck sake. He was frozen. Stuck, in what seemed to be a never ending loop of self-hatred. He slowly sunk deeper into his arms, legs just starting to go numb as he sat cross legged on the cold wooden floor in the hallway, for what seemed to be years.

There was a constant ringing in his ears, that went louder and louder and louder, with his head pounding and breathing still uneven and quick, he didn't know what to do other than to cry. He was overwhelmed, overstimulated by almost everything; the noise in his ears, the lights in the hallway, the coldness of the floor. He could even feel the different textures of his clothes against his body all at once, suddenly feeling like he was drowning in his own clothes but he was the one pushing his head deeper under the water.

He doesn't care about you. He never did. What did you expect? 'Love at first sight?' Are you that fucking stupid?

All Timmy could think was how childish, he was getting overwhelmed by moving in with someone he actually might like.

God you are being fucking spoiled, and all you can do is wish you where back at 'home' in your shitty apartment? What is wrong with you? What is your fucking problem?

He continued to cry, tears falling down his cheeks, snot under his nose, hands shaking covering his face. He was a mess.

What? Is this too much? Too many feelings? You rather die alone of starvation in your shithole of an apartment than be here, don't you? He doesn't love you. He never did. If he did, he would be here.