Dissociation

Tommy wasn't exactly sure where he was, or what was going on.

And honestly? At this point he didn't really care all that much.

He was too far gone to care at this point. The whole world was foggy, everything seemed so far away.

He was terribly confused.

Wilbur had invited him over a few hours ago, both planned to stream. But 20 minutes or so after the tall brunette opened the door for him into the office, everything started to blur together.

In Tommy's words, it was like he was on a cloud - just cruising through the air with nothing on his mind.

He thought he was being spoken to only a second ago, but he really had no idea.

Someone was touching his hand. Wait- his hand? Where were his hands?

...

Down, his hands were down.

So he looked down.

Oh, there's my hands.

His eyesight was still foggy but he could at least see them now.

He set his gaze at his left hand, and then to his right.

Someone was holding his right hand.

Who's touching me?

Where am I?

Tommy didn't like this.

This was the part he hated the most. The part when he couldn't tell where he was, or what was going on; but he knew something wasn't right.

He was no longer comfortable floating on a said cloud. The confusion was hurting his mind.

He continued to blink blankly at the hand that was holding his, still trying to figure out who it could belong to.

All he knew was that the palm of 'said hand', had many imperfections, such as callouses and scars, yet soft.

He didn't like how the hand he knew nothing of gave him a comfort he had been longing for as it was so rudely taken away by the confusion.

"-mmy.."

He heard a muffled voice.

"-ommy.."

He heard it again.

"Tommy.."

Tommy...

...

That was his name, right?

Someone was calling his name.

Was it the person who was holding his hand?

He looked up the body that was connected to the hand.

Black jeans, forest green hoodie..

He continued to trail his eyes up until was looking at a face.

He examined the different features of the person in front of him.

The person- a man, possibly, with a rather thin, tall form.

They had short, curly brown hair, clear glasses. Behind those glasses were a pair of mocha coloured eyes. A rather sharp jaw line;

Tommy felt as though he must know who that was.

But he couldn't put his finger on who.

"Tommy.." The person's voice was soft, yet deep, "Can you hear me?"