Anxiety Attacks (Septiplier)

Mad [10]

Mad. They're all making me mad.

We were just minding our business, talking like we normally do. We were still sitting beside each other in the cafeteria, talking, when a group of patients had walked by.

They said rude things about him--to him--and I didn't like it. I could tell he was trying to ignore the things they said, but his face would twitch every time an insult was thrown at him.

And they're still doing it. We're both trying to ignore them, but it's really hard to do so when they're being so loud. They're saying things about him that I'd rather not repeat--it's getting on my nerves.

There's suddenly a certain word that is said--jeered, rather--that causes his sapphire eyes to sadden and his lips to fall the slightest bit, although he tries to hide these things by continuing to talk.

I stop him softly with a hand to his leg, which causes him to frown. I tell him that I'll be right back and stand up, making my way over to the group that has sat a ways from us.

They look terrified as I stand before them; however, I am not here to yell at them. I ask them politely to stop yelling at Seán, or else I will contact the doctor in charge. They all nod, afraid of the doctors, and then one of them tells me that they didn't know I was a nurse. As if the scrubs weren't obvious.

I make my way back to our table, sit down, and glance back up at him. He's smiling softly at his drawing, and he thanks me. He thanks me for stopping them before things got too out of hand.

And I tell him that it's no problem--that that's what friends are for.

And he just smiles.