He begins to fear the night once more, his skin crawling with dread as he tries is best to breathe what now feels like toxic air. He can just feel the figure's presence, he knows he's here, and he can nearly take a guess as to why, for the first time in a very long time.
His eyes flash open, muting his brain ever so slightly as he reaches over to turn on the light. Light fills the room, the absence of the figure diminishing. He decides to write, that always fixes it, right?
He gets out of bed, tossing his sheets away from his sweaty body. He makes his way over to his desk and begins to write. It's as if the words he couldn't write the night before began spilling out of his brain like it was kept in a dam for the past day.
When Tyler writes, it can get gruesome. He tends to lean toward writing short stories, the characters and plot perfectly matching his situation. It may be terribly sad, but it makes him feel less alone if he creates characters in his mind that feel the same way as he does.
Eventually, the sun shines through his dusty blinds, filling his stomach with dread when he realizes he didn't sleep at all. He'd been writing for six hours straight, and he didn't feel a trace of exhaustion. Physical, that is.
His alarm goes off, and he almost laughs at the irony.
I can't sleep through my alarm if I don't sleep.
He goes downstairs, deciding to make breakfast for him and his mom. It's then that he realizes that writing made the voices stop, and though he missed a full night's sleep, he hasn't felt this awake in a long, long time.
He makes chocolate chip pancakes and eggs, humming softly to himself. His mother groggily walks in the kitchen, a look of confusion flashing on her face.
"You're up early, sweetie," She states, walking towards the stove. "And you're making breakfast? You want something, don't you?" She says with a chuckle, wrapping her arms around her son as he winces.
"No, mom," He chuckles, "I just had a good night's sleep is all." He lies, though it's pretty convincing.
"That's wonderful, honey. I know you have trouble sleeping." She says sympathetically, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. It sends chills down his spine.
He doesn't reply, just purses his lips, and flips the sizzling pancake.
-
"So, can I come to your house for the project?" The red headed boy asks, toying with the hem of his shirt. They had just come from Music when Josh realized it's best to get the project over with. Tyler's eyes widen, his heart fluttering in his chest. Josh seems to take notice as he backtracks.
"I mean, I'd invite you over to mine, but there's boxes everywhere, and my mom doesn't want company. You know how moms are." He rambles, looking to the ground- or anywhere but Tyler's gaze.
"Oh of course, that makes sense. I'll ask my mom; tomorrow after school? You can just come home with me." He asks, trying to cover up the fact that butterflies are swarming in his stomach, and hoping he doesn't come across as too forward.
"Yeah, that's cool." Josh says, grinning at him. Tyler tried his best not to trail his gaze to his lips, or stare at his whole face for that matter. They stand at Tyler's locker in sweet silence for a while, not realizing how much they had lost themselves in that mere 15 seconds.
"Sup, Tyler! And... Joshua, is it?" He hears Brendon's voice in his ears, snapping both of them out of their gazes.
"Call me Josh." He says with a smile, trying not to have any fear.
"Right, this is Brendon, Brendon this is Josh." He says as they exchange the cheesy masculine handshakes.
"Well I'm gonna head to biology. See ya." Josh says, walking down the hall, pulling at his locks as Tyler follows his trail with his eyes.
"Why're you hanging out with that loser?" Brendon asks, nudging him on the shoulder.
"He's not a loser, dude."
"Well what's up with his hair? Like dude... that's weird."
"Just because it's not you doesn't mean it's weird," Tyler sort of snaps, taking Brendon by surprise. "Besides, he's a super nice guy; pretty chill, too." He says, softening the blow.
"I don't know, dude. But you do whatever." He says as he slaps a hand on his shoulder, Tyler trying not to visibly recoil as he walks away.
-
Tyler sits in his seat in Biology next to Josh when he looks down to see his hand on the table. He studies his veins, bones, and knuckles, wanting nothing more than to take his smooth hand into his. He wants his fingers to cross over his, to caress his pale skin.
But suddenly he's haunted by the thought, thinking that if someone touches him, he might fall apart. The want and need is still there, just the dread of making his skin crawl is too overpowering.
He doesn't want to be hurt again.
"You okay?" Josh asks him, genuine concern flashing in his cocoa eyes, making Tyler's heart flutter.
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
-
As the night rolls around, Tyler decides to try to really sleep. He brushes his teeth, takes off his pants and shirt, and gets in the dangerous comfort of his sheets and turns the lights out.
Just as he suspected, he shuts his eyes, feeling the the alluring pull. The figure is back, and Tyler is almost numb. He tries to keep his eyes shut, thinking maybe, just maybe it will eventually go away, maybe he can sleep.
It wraps his hands around his neck, squeezing his throat shut. It begins clawing at his skin, trying to get in. Trying to invade his mind, but Tyler won't let it happen. It grabs his dark hair, pulling at it, so hard he feels he's ripping the follicles out.
I can't do this.
And that's when his eyes flash open, and they stay that way.
|-/
OKAYYYYY lemme know what you guys think
(Linked song helps)
I keep stressing that because ive found favorite bands because of linked songs in fics, sorry :)))
as always i hoped you enjoyed :P
