C'est la vie (TW)

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NOEL SUFFERS FROM PTSD FROM THE CYCLONE ACCIDENT

TW: Descriptions of death, talk of wanting to die

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The shower had been running for a little over two hours now. That worried Mischa. Noel always took a long time to shower, but it never hit the two-hour mark. His showers always took precisely an hour and fifteen minutes every day.

So when the two-hour mark hit, Mischa knew Noel's day was already off to a bad start.

"Poet?" Mischa called out softly, gently knocking on the bathroom door. When he got no response, he grew a bit more aggressive with his knocks.

"Noel?"

"Hmm?"

Mischa let out a sigh of relief and stopped his knocking.

"Can I come in?" He asked. Noel didn't respond.

"Fuck it," he mumbled under his breath, twisting the doorknob open. He would worry about Noel getting angry at him for intruding later; for now, all that was on his mind was if Noel was okay.

He creaked the door open, a gust of fog flying into his face. The room was blistering hot and felt stuffy. The mirrors were fogged up, and you would think a fire was in there with all the smoke.

Noel sat in the alcove tub, his back against the wall opposite the shower head, with his knees pulled up to his chest. His whole body was red from the heat of the water. He stared at the showerhead in what looked like a trance.

"Oh, poet," Mischa mumbled, his face falling soft. Noel didn't respond. He continued to stare at the showerhead with no expression.

Mischa slowly walked over to the shower, attempting to avoid some water on the floor. Once he reached the tub, he bent down and turned the shower faucet in the opposite direction, making the shower stop.

Noel slowly turned his head to face Mischa. They stared at each other in silence, the only sound being the leftover droplets of water falling off the shower head.

"It's been ten years," Noel said, his voice hoarse. Mischa's throat went dry.

"Yeah," he mumbled. The bathroom fell silent once more. After a few moments, Mischa let out a sigh. He crouched down to Noel's level and reached his hand out.

"Do you want to get out?" He asked. Noel immediately shook his head.

"Can I at least get you a towel?"

Noel shrugged. Mischa took that as a 'whatever' and stood from his crouched position. He walked over to the towel rack that was next to the shower. He took the towel off the shelf and returned to the tub.

Mischa carefully put one foot in the tub and then the other. Noel scooted farther back, allowing Mischa more room in the tub.

Mischa sat down in the tub, grimacing at the warm water that now covered his ass. He ignored the feeling the best he could and wrapped Noel's top half in the towel.

Once Noel was wrapped up, Mischa pulled him to his chest.

"You are safe," Mischa mumbled, placing a kiss on Noel's wet hair. He heard Noel sigh of contentment and bury his head deeper into Mischa's chest.

They sat like that for a few minutes until Noel began to shake.

"Are you okay?" Mischa asked, looking down at Noel.

"I—I still remember the face you—you made when you fell," Noel muttered. He clutched Mischa's shirt for dear life—like it was his lifeline. "I—I remember all of it."

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