another revealed truth

memories in grey

trigger warnings listed in opening author's note

✼

karl wakes up with a thick tongue and an even thicker lump in his throat. he yawns with his mouth closed because the thought of opening it so early makes his stomach curl.

his chest feels kind of heavy too, though that might just be from waking up, and the brunette sighs internally as he forces himself up and out of bed.

he feels weak, like the effort of doing anything today would take him out, and he's glad that he doesn't have any lectures until tomorrow.

plus he doesn't want to have to face dream after halloween, though they haven't communicated at all and george hasn't said anything so karl assumes that they're just going to brush it under the carpet and forget anything ever happened, which he's grateful for.

karl shakes out his hands before leaving his room, as if he has to prepare himself for something, and silently steps out into the lounge.

through the kitchen doorways, karl spots george by the front door, grabbing his lanyard and bag off of the hooks.

he wants to say something, to get george's attention and say goodbye to his friend before he leaves, but he can't find it in himself to speak. he tries to swallow as if it would help but even that feels uncomfortable and wrong and, because george doesn't glance back, the brunette ends up leaving without even knowing karl was there.

it makes the brunette frown a little, disappointed and, for some reason, guilty, but he tries to wash away the feeling. it's not his fault he's like this, and it's not like george's day has been made worse by his absence, so he tells himself not to worry over something too trivial as he moves into the kitchen.

karl pulls open the cabinet to grab a glass, moving to fill it with milk. he puts a straw in it, thinking that would make it easier to drink for some reason. he can't explain the way that being mute makes him feel beyond the stress of just not talking. it's more than that, but he doesn't bother trying to explain that side of it because he doesn't think it makes sense.

he told his therapist about it once, and she said she understood, but karl thinks she was just pretending too because that's her job.

karl takes his milk back to his room without getting food, deciding he would just continue eating the dairy milk bar he bought the other day for breakfast. it's not healthy, but it tastes good so he doesn't care.

he puts his glass down on the bedside cabinet, having to be careful so he doesn't knock off any of the other glasses piling there, before falling into bed with a silent sigh. the relief of being against the mattress is great, even if he was only up for a few minutes.

he pulls his top drawer open to grab the chocolate, leaving it open just because he can, and sits back comfortably to eat and drink his milk.

he doesn't like how he has to open his mouth to eat right now, but the fact that no one is seeing him makes it better. he thinks, if george or someone was around, he wouldn't even be able to open his mouth to eat.

maybe his problem goes further than being mute.

karl leans down over the edge of his bed, careful not to spill the drink in his hand, and grabs one of the notebooks that is discarded on his floor. he reaches to grab a pencil too, deciding he'll do some sketching that he can paint later on when he has some more energy.