We picked up where we left off, where Mox acted like she was about to take advantage of me in her room, but really it was just a test. She softly grunts, then scoffs, sitting down on the bed behind me. I roll around, over some clothes on her floor and such until I'm sitting across from her.
The Finale Ball is still eating at the back of my head... I want to make Fireteam Phantom win the fashion contest... I will make them look like mystical gods... something so fucking outlandish and eye-catching... nobody will know what to expect.
Mox: Where do you want to start?
She pulls up a chair from her desk, a swiveling office chair, rolling around and spinning towards me. She leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, just gazing up at me. It's odd to see her in a completely different mood than when I saw her. Her hair is still a mess, but somehow, someway, she did her makeup.
It's me, isn't it? Oh, it's definitely me...
Y/N: I'm going to die... relatively soon... a-and... the realization hit me hard...
Mox: Realization of...
She rolls her hands in front of one another, gesturing to me to keep talking.
Y/N: There isn't much left... No point, no... nothing... I am a dead man walking.
Mox: I see.
She leans back in her chair, then swivels around. She thinks for a moment, then turns back around with a more determined gaze. She's not letting me go until she fixes me, just knowing how she operates.
Mox: Y/N, I'm not the therapist type.
Y/N: I knew that.
Mox: But... huh. Here's the thing, I do want to help you. So, I guess I can try to use my experiences... and... my medical knowledge, which is vast.
Shade comes flying around the chair, hovering right in my face.
Shade: Can I scan you?
Y/N: Don't even ask; you guys have scanned me so much; I'm expecting it at this point.
Shade scans me, then Mox scooches back to grab some form of tablet off of her desk. I can see through it, a picture of me in my prime turning into what looks like some diagnostic report that even includes my brain waves in real time. She puts the tablet down, in a way that it isn't facing me, too, just like a doctor does it.
Mox: I'll never understand what you're going through, nobody will. Especially, if it's someone like me, a guardian.
Mox leans back in her chair, thinking of what to say as her teeth and top lip takes turns playing with her bottom lip.
Mox: You... have every right... to feel how you feel. Common symptoms of people with terminal illnesses were disbelief, denial which I recognized when you were told you had a year. Now that it's more serious, panic, anxiety, anger, frustration, loneliness... vulnerability... and soon, acceptance...
Y/N: Sounds like... just buzzwords.
Mox: Just let that resonate a little bit, I'll wait. Denying is only going to make it harder for you.
Y/N: Mox.
Mox: It's true! It's a horrible way to cope! It delays the awareness... of knowing... what is truly inevitable! Y/N, you are going to die in six months-
Y/N: My doctor just told me that he has no fucking idea when I'll die! EVEN HE DOESN'T KNOW!!!
Mox: W-what? *Clears throat* Me not knowing... of your newfound unpredictability of your illness... is not warranted to scream in my face. If I can smell your mint, mucus-filled breath from here...
YOU ARE READING
The Boot Shiner (Destiny x Male Reader)
Fanfiction(Destiny 1&2 Fireteam OCs x Male Reader Story) DISCLAIMER: If you have not read my Multiverse Destiny story, I recommend just the first couple of chapters to get context whenever that Y/N is mentioned on my character sheet or in the story. In a uni...
