My Baby (Sun/Moon x Reader)

Lassitude (I Will See You Soon)

-x-

They have no idea when they have slept (lost consciousness), nor do they know at what time they have woken up. The world spins, the colors mix and melt like lava around them. A heaviness made itself known in their body, limbs sprayed like a starfish over the cold floor. The edges of their sweater and hems of shorts were damp from whatever water had seeped into their clothes—they did not get the chance to lay somewhere more dry.

An odd but familiar feeling was all over their being and what made them who they were. It made the world seem funny, made things seem more vibrant. It made their emotions hard to control, made it worse when they were upset.

It crushed them down harder and harder into the floor by the chest, squeezing over their lungs as despair began to climb more and more.

Of all times this had to happen. They think it made sense. Their mind kept on repeating to them what had happened, how they felt, and what they had been told.

It couldn't be lies. If you were alive and well, then their owner would have been taken by the cops already. If it was murder with no witnesses other than Roxanne, then it might become a bit harder to locate who had done it, right?

But that didn't make sense either, did it? Roxanne knows. She could tell everyone it was their owner's fault—the cops would search their ID therefore finding his and then finding their location.

If it was murder, then their owner would have been taken a while ago, right?

But, if you were alive, you would have told about him, wouldn't you? They knew for a fact you wouldn't let him get away with hurting you like he had. They are sure.

Nothing seemed to add, and it was only making them confused and more stressed. Their state of mind, so horribly vulnerable, made it hard trying to put two and two together.

Then again, what is there to put? They didn't get to check on you, weren't able to see if your heart was still beating. They just ran and ran and ran.

A thought crossed their mind. Roxanne. What if something happened to her? Is that why no one has yet to come and arrest the barbaric man?

How many people did they take down with them in this whole mess? And for what?

Didn't matter—their mind couldn't comprehend any more of this. It already felt like it was running slow, as if every thought was treading through mud. It's hard to contain their emotions in that small state of mind and they hated it. Their emotions are too big to handle like this.

And it made it worse. It made the same and familiar and wretched dissociation come back again. They are unsure who is out because they didn't bother thinking too deeply about it when their thoughts were stowed around. The light is blinding and their stomach aches with hunger.

They roll and roll. They curl up to get more body heat and warm up, then, they sit up when their bones start to hurt, when whatever skin that made contact with the floor has started to burn.

They're out of this pained body. They're out of this universe, of this dimension. They are not here if they are this distant—time will hurt less as it moved if they were in a space where time isn't real. It is when they close and open their eyes and realize so much has gone by, when the pain is numbed to hurt less.

They are inside a bubble that is fragile, frail, and yet still thrives. They are vulnerable as everything felt like molasses was sticking to their skin, keeping them down. The bubble is colorful—it doesn't hide how awful everything is, but it splashes it with an odor that makes it tolerable.