POTS ~ The struggle of standing

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(Let's just take a moment's time to appreciate that this story has 2K views. That's amazing!
I never even expected to even come this far. I just thought that I would give up, like I usually do with all my projects, if I even start them at all...
So thanks to all of you who have bothered to read this story. And I hope you will continue to enjoy this story, dear reader.
As a little gift for you all, I have made this chapter longer^,^)

Eliot's pov:

He awoke by the sound of his mother rambling about in the kitchen. She was probably making herself a cup of coffee. No it was the weekend, so it was more likely tea.

Gosh, he wanted some tea right now. But just getting out of bed, getting away from Juno, seemed so endlessly tiresome. He did not know if it was because of his pots, his light and sound sensitivity, it sometimes were, or simply him being lazy.

Maybe he should just sleep some more. So he tried that. It did not work. So he took the book he was reading, from the window still, a book about the brain. And sat his pillow up, so that he could lean against it while he read.

The brain was fascinating! How it all worked together, the conscious mind and the unconscious mind, the known and the unknown. He loved the unknown. Things like dreams! They were utterly amazing.

Some time later, he got up to get his well reserved tea. He sat the kettle on and found himself a bag of tea and a cup. He took an extra cup, in case Juno would want some tea as well, when he would awake from his slumber.

He had taken his book with him, though he did not read anything. He turned on the TV and found himself some children's show: one called Bluey. (Bruh- I love this show. I guess I'm a child for watching children's shows, but that is all I wanted to be anyways; to be a child again.) and thought of the evening before.

Juno's pov:

'I did not know love...Well at some point I must have. Cause if I had not known love, how would I ever know, if I was missing out on it?'

Juno had woken up and was laying on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling. The little light that shone through the window and onto the bed, did not reach him. It did only fall on Eliot's side, where he was not. Where there was no one. He heard some noise outside Eliot's room, and decided to find its source.

'I was not deserving of love. Or maybe because of me thinking I am not, I therefore am. Well that's just wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, Juno. You are not a goddess. Your are not a planet.  (I put this saying in here, because "Juno" is a goddess of Roman mythology. And the goddess that gave name to the planet Venus. In Italian, named Juno.) You are just you.'

His thoughts burdened him. They always seemed to dominate his mind. At home or in school, it made no difference. Only when he was with Eliot, did they keep silent. Or at least some of the time.

When he got out of the room that smelled like Ellie, he went for the sounds; they were happy. He wanted that.; happiness; love. The light from the window in the kitchen shone upon him. A cup stood on the counter.

"Hey Ellie." He said as he walked into the living room; the source of the noise.  The brunette turned his head and looked back at him. He sat with a cup in his hands and his feet up on the couch, watching what looked like talking dogs on the television. Seemingly unaware of his radiant presence. He was a lot like his own little light. Or maybe that was just the TV, reflecting its light on Eliot.

"Oh, you're up. Good morning Juno. How did you sleep?"

"Well, a little tired, and the usual headache." He smiled, like he always does, tilting his head a little. "And you? What're you watching, Ellie."

What seemed like a light blush, covered his cheeks, as he gestured for Juno to sit down. He nodded. "I'm watching a children show, wanna watch it with me? And I made tea."

"I can see that." Did Eliot notice his smirk?

Eliot looked down on his own cup and over on the little empty table in front of him, a little flustered he spoke. "I forgot yours... I'll go make it right now, here have mine. No, don't refuse, Juno, just take it." And so he did not. Eliot got up and walked to the kitchen.

It was half drunken, the tea. And he could glimpse of where the brunette's lips had been. The butterflies in his stomach awoke again and went for a morning fly. When Eliot came back, he sat himself half up against the couch, half up against Juno. Took the remote, and turned on the see the start song, while the brunette song along quietly and sipped the tea.

It was a beautiful morning. It had gotten beautiful. It's the little things: saying good morning, getting tea, sitting down with the greatest friend you could ever wish for. And yet, only wishing for more. Tho still knowing, that this was what happiness was; the feeling of comfort.

This was how Eliot drove his darker thoughts away. This was how he was. This was Eliot.

(Have a good morning, whenever that may come!)