Always you

Three

Chapter three is hereeeeee. Yay. Tbh I'm going through some shit atm so please be patient with me( even though no one is reading this hahaha).

Okay so I'm giving a symbol so you know what's happening: ~~~ this basically means that the perspective is changing. So here it's gonna change from Tyler to Josh. Just so you're not too confused.

No tw for this chapter but still remember to stay safe and most importantly stay alive<33

Word count : 1885

He opened his eyes. It was 4 pm and the sun was high. His cheeks were wet and his eyes felt swollen. Another nightmare, though this time he couldn't remember what it was about, but it was better that way.
He could still feel his chest rising and falling quite quickly and his breath hitching here and there but it was surely not the worst thing he'd woken up to.
Wanting to take his mind if things and maybe give his body a time out, he grabbed his hoodie that was still lying on the floor from the day prior when he had tossed it there.
His cigarette's and lighter were still in the front pocked so he just pulled it over and stepped outside on his tiny balcony that was attached to his bedroom.
He was only wearing boxers, socks and the hoodie he'd just put on, wich was probably not the best thing he could have picked but he was desperate for that smoke so he just decided to make it quick.

After lighting his cigarette he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply letting his lungs fill with smoke. He exhaled and felt slightly dizzy while doing so, so he gripped the railing to keep himself steady.
The city underneath him was busy with cars and people wanting to get home to their families.
It was quite loud and extremely cold, so after taking the last drag on his cigarette he put the stub that was left in his ashtray and quickly made his way back inside.

He stood right in front of his balcony door leaning against it with his back, looking at his messy room, well at his messy apartment.

The entire apartment consisted of three rooms. His bathroom, wich was the first door after entering the apartment, a tiny kitchen, wich was the second door and his bedroom.
So basically his entire apartment was messy. Everything was laying around, the moving boxes stacked on top of each other at the wall on the right opposite to his bed, from where he was standing, books and more just laying around on the floor.
Most of his clothes were still in moving boxes and his one suitcase, so that's what he started with.
He was looking through his boxes, trying to find his clothing rack so he could actually hang them up instead of just putting them on the floor. After some time he found it and got to work.

For the next two and a half hours he unpacked his clothes and build a shelf he just bought two days prior, so he could put his books away.

He just put away the last book, so he turned around and looked at his four black notebooks he put on the floor yesterday night.
He made his way over there and picked them up.
He was tempted to open them to let the words wash over him but he just couldn't. Not yet. He didn't know why but he was just so fucking scared. So instead of opening them he just put them away to his other books he already put away.

He wasn't in his head, not torturing himself with his own thoughts, for the first time in what seems like forever.
He just kept on unpacking building stuff and more or less making his apartment look more comfortable.
Even though he wasn't trapped in his own head at that moment, he felt like he was in autopilot, but not in a bad way. He just felt a lot emptier than he usually did so that was probably what made it feel so strange.

Instead of beating himself up and hyper focusing on how different he felt from most other days, he excepted it. He used it in a way.
Hour after hour he just kept on building and rearranging his room. He made himself food and drank something in between and there were a few breaks so he could smoke, but all together he just kept on going. Not even thinking twice about school tomorrow, but maybe that's why he did it. To just not think.