For You ↠ Alice Cullen ✓

02 ; gifted

The next morning, Tate found himself hunched over the toilet seat.

His dinner from last night burning his throat like acid. Trying to remain calm and upright, Tate fought against the dots clouding his vision as the taste of his previously digested food sat on his taste-buds.

Slinking onto the cool tile by the toilet, Tate placed his head onto his arm and leant against the toilet seat. His chest was heaving, heart throbbing inside of his chest as the sound of small nails clicking against the tile in the bathroom was heard.

Looking at him with soft brown eyes was his yellow lab, Margaret. Moving towards him in a waddle she'd adopted since being a mother in a previous life, Margaret sat in front of him. Her cold nose barely registered against Tate's tingling fingers but Margaret didn't seem to care that he couldn't feel her affection.

"Tate?" His mother's voice rang out before she was stepping into the doorway of the bathroom.

His mother's expression didn't change upon seeing his weakened state. It had taken many months of practice to be able to school her expression so that no emotions leaked onto her face. Tate liked it better when he couldn't see the terror in her eyes every time she caught him in his position.

"Mom," He croaked, and his mother was walking into the bathroom then.

She didn't hesitate to bend down and place his throbbing head onto her chest. One cold hand cradling his head while the other hand ran down his back soothingly.

"Did you take your medication?" She asked, and Tate could feel her lips moving where they were pressed against the crown of his head.

Tate tried to remember last night if he'd taken his medication but working his brain only made his head throb worse. Shaking his head lightly, Tate heard his mother sigh but she didn't say anything else about the subject.

"How come you didn't call for me?" His mother murmured, pushing Tate's curly hair from his face.

"Margaret was here," Tate replied, and he watched his mother smile softly at the yellow lab.

Margaret, as if sensing that they were talking about her, straightened her back and flopped her tongue out against the side of her mouth in a tiny smile.

"She loves you just as much as me and your father do," Was Tate's mother's response, "Do you think you can go to school today?"

Tate nodded his head, already feeling his headache subside. "Of course mom,"

"Alright. Be careful,"  His mother said, before she was grabbing his hands and helping him stand up back on his feet.

The world spun for a few seconds and Tate sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep the last of the food in his stomach where it was. As the vertigo left, Tate smiled tightly at his mother before making his way towards his bedroom.

"Any breakfast requests?" His mother asked, making her way towards his bedroom door with Margaret at her heels.

"Anything with fruit." Tate replied, and his mother nodded before talking in a baby voice towards Margaret as they both made their way down the hallway.

Once they were out of earshot, Tate sat down on his bed. His eyes watered slightly, the familiar pain in his body still caused this reaction every time he had an episode. Reaching outwards and pulling out the drawer of his nightstand, Tate grabbed one of the pill bottles and popped it open.

The pills burned a bit as he took them dry but the relief was almost instantaneous. Finally catching his second wind for the day, Tate dressed in something that wouldn't irritate his tingling skin anymore than it'd have to.

His mother and father were talking about random things as he entered the kitchen. Margaret yapped at him gently in greeting from her place at Tate's dad's feet.