Another class in Shinganshina village was about to commence in just fifteen minutes and Jean was ready to leave the space as soon as possible, he felt jittery nerves throughout his body which he could not control, his palms were sweaty and his head was spinning. He felt his heart pounding and his throat becoming dry.
Truth is, he had a bad feeling about coming here because so many wounds he had been healing opened when he entered the bus and came here.
Jean knew he had to come if he wanted to bump his grade up for this semester. He had a bad feeling about coming and it made him queasy just thinking about it. Childhood trauma being relived as he walked down the paths, breathing the air and even looking around triggered him. It gave him anxiety from many years that he had been trying to bury.
His leg bounced up and down as he sat at his own desk as he stared at the clock, hearing the ticking of it. He was supposed to be staring at the blackboard which was full of notes to learn and take down but his brain was not wired for that right now.
Of course he's grown from the old and younger person he used to be, and his old personality left him too. He's allowed himself to just..feel now and manage his feelings in a healthy way. Working on not being emotionally unavailable because it broke down alot of things in his life.
But now, he couldn't really tell himself how to manage this. It's been a while since he has let his anxiety go rabid but he didn't really know what to do.
Okay, three things I can see. He thought to himself.
His eyes scan the room. Blackboard, chalk and..Y/n. You're sitting at your own desk, your glasses were on your face as you took notes from the board, pen in your hand as you write down the information. You once helped him with his anxiety and taught him how to express himself when he wasn't shown how by his parents. Safe haven. You were once that.
The professor talked for a few more minutes and he stared at the clock again, ten minutes. He just desperately wanted it to be over. He felt his airways closing and he slowly began to panic but trying to hide it so no one could notice. He tried to tell himself to wait it out for the ten minutes left but he felt as if he couldn't.
You finished writing and you tapped the pen against the desk in boredom, biting your glossy lips a little. His eyes flickered away from you and he just stared at the board blankly not even acknowledging the words on it. His heart rate and breathing slowly slowed down and he felt a little more relaxed as he kept his eyes on you.
