Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THIS IS ME TRYING - TAYLOR SWIFT "I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting."
:･✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧
2007.
WILLOW PROMPTLY DISCOVERED that college life was meant for her. She loved the parties, the classes, the people she got to meet daily, and the sense of freedom she felt.
She loved the past couple months she had been spending with Art. Every second they were together. If you saw one, the other was somewhere around without a doubt.
What she didn't love was very clearly and obviously tennis. She dreaded going to practice every day. She felt the light within her dying every time she had to play.
She had started losing matches and not caring anymore. Which was very unusual for the young star.
"Just." Art begins with his hands on his hips, "Focus." He had on a gray t-shirt and white shorts. His white hat was backwards on his head.
Willow wore a tight yellow tank top and white shorts. Her sneakers were slowly beginning to run down, but she didn't care about that either.
She hasn't been caring about much of anything lately.
She scratches her head with a tired and bored look in her eyes. She sighs, "I am." She didn't mean to sound so harsh but that's how it slipped from her lips.
Art's eyes moved to look at his shoes. Willow had been different recently. Everything irritated her, and Art didn't know what to do with that. He found himself remaining silent so she wouldn't snap at him.
"Willow," he had sad and worried eyes as he looked back up at her.
She raised her eyebrows at him in annoyance, wanting to know why he wasn't serving.
"Are you okay?"
She bites her lip as angry tears burn in her eyes. She wasn't going to let herself cry though. She had nothing to cry for. Deep down she knew she was struggling, but it was nothing she was going to come to terms with.
"Yeah." Her shoulders bounce up and down once before heavily falling back into place. She takes a deep breath, her jaw clenched. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Will-"
"I'm fine Art!" This time she yelled making him shamefully look to the ground.
She tried to breathe but the feeling of suffocation was overwhelming her, "no..." realization consumed her. She whispered to herself as she began to pace, "Not here."
The air was escaping her lungs and her chest felt heavy. As if a thousand pounds had been thrown onto her. She turns away from the boy, a tear rolling down her cheek.
She bent over for a moment, placing her hands on her knees. She desperately tried to breathe but no air would enter her lungs.
"Ar-" she could barely speak above a whisper, "Art." He looked at her again finally, realizing something was wrong his eyes widened.
She slowly began to sink onto the concrete. One of her hands was on her chest while the other caught her against the ground.
He let his racket fall from his hand and land on the ground with a clatter. He jumped over the net and sprinted to her side.
"What do I need to do?" His heart was racing, yet he knew what was happening. He also knew he should give her space and distract her from her overwhelming and panicked feelings.
"Just..." She closes her eyes with her eyebrows furrowed, "Talk to me." She grabs his hand leaving him a sort of surprised.
She knew what was happening, she knew what to do, she knew how to work with it. This had happened before and Art realized that.
"Okay, uhh." He sits beside her, letting his fingers brush over hers in comfort, "Remember last year when you, me, Patrick, and Tashi were all in that hotel room?"
She nods.
"I don't know- uh-" he chooses his next words carefully, "I was overthinking. I was scared to be completely honest."
She sniffles a small laugh and finally looks at him, "Yo-You were scared?" Her mascara had made its way under her eyes, leaving streaks of black. Her tears were subsiding, which was a good sign, "Pussy."
"Yeah, yeah. I was nervous, scared, anxious." He listed every emotion he could remember feeling that night that would be forever engraved in his mind, "But when you looked me in my eyes, I felt alright. I felt secure. Is that lame to admit?"
She takes a deep breath. The panic was going away, "Well my heart was racing."
"Oh yeah," he takes her hand and places it on his chest, "Feel mine right now. This is what you do to me Star Girl." His heart was rapidly thumping in his chest.
She looks him in the eyes. He carried an immense amount of worry, but an even more amount of care.
"Thank you." Her voice was meek and she couldn't remove her eyes from his.
He nods reassuringly. It was quiet for a moment before he decided to speak up, "When did you start having panic attacks, Willow?"
She takes a sharp breath through her nose, "A couple of months ago." She admits and his eyes saddened. He felt betrayed that she was ashamed to admit that to him, but he wasn't going to hold it against her. He knew now and that's all that mattered, "I haven't had one in weeks."
"What triggers them?"
"My stress. Feeling overwhelmed." She pauses, looking down at her hands, "Tennis."
He frowns, "Maybe you should... take a break?"
"I'd be letting everyone down." She shakes her head, denying his request. "Especially my dad."
He nods understandingly, "When's your next match?"
"In a couple of days." She inhales, "Against Tash. I'll never compare to her. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it."
Art's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. Between the both of them, they came to an understanding. He pulled her closer, holding her head. She stuffs her face into his shoulder.
