Tomorrow Never Dies

Chapter 58 - "I've been doing so well"

"That's how to write a story on an unconfirmed event. See you all tomorrow, same time." Professor Bates picked up his briefcase and left the lecture hall, leaving me a little bit in shock. I shuffled my notes into some kind of coherent order, putting them into a file, and sorted my things so I could go back home to make sure Michael was still alive. As I went to leave, a guy intercepted me and shot me a smile.

"Hey, fancy going for a coffee?"

"I have a boyfriend," I told him, and tried to sidestep away from him.

"Doesn't mean we can't be friends." I looked into his eyes and frowned.

"Fine, but I can't today. Maybe tomorrow?" He handed me a post it note with his name and number scrawled on. He was called Jensen, and I watched his sandy brown hair disappear into the crowd as I finally got out of the lecture hall. I made my way to the car and drove home, walking into the dark apartment. I pulled the blinds open, causing Michael to hiss from the couch.

"Morning babe!" I sang, taking delight in seeing him wince.

"Hi," he croaked. "I'm dying."

"No you're not, get up. We're going for brunch." He looked at me desperately, as if begging me to let him sleep, and I shook my head. "Get changed." He went into the bedroom to dress, as I pulled my hair into a ponytail to get it out of my face. He reappeared, dressed decently, and I went to give him a cuddle.

"It's a good thing I love you," he groaned, and I smiled.

"Let's go." I took his hand, and he pulled on a pair of sunglasses as we walked through town to my favourite brunch spot, a cinema/cafe crossover. We sat at the back of the cafe, in a booth hidden from prying eyes, and looked over the menu, though I already knew what I wanted. A waitress came over, looked at Michael then at me sympathetically, and took our orders.

"Fried egg sandwich please," Michael muttered, and I smiled.

"I'll take the breakfast muffin," I grinned at the waitress. "Can you get him a coffee as well please?" She nodded and went off to get our order prepared. "Did you see that article?"

"Yeah, it's always funny how wrong paps are," he chuckled. "They want to know everything about my life and if I don't tell them they just make it up."

"It's stupid, you're just a normal person who's insanely talented and beautiful and suddenly everyone needs to know every tiny detail."

"Shut up, I'm not beautiful," he said.

"You are," I replied. "Hey, did you know you asked me for head last night?"

"I did?" I nodded. "Well I can't have got it because I would definitely remember that."

"Maybe later," I winked, and his mouth fell slightly open.

"God, Flora," he murmured, shutting his eyes. "Just thinking about it makes me so-"

"In public," I reminded him. He pouted and I rolled my eyes as the waitress returned with an urn of coffee and mugs for the two of us. I thanked her with a smile, pouring out a decent amount. I disguised the bitterness with cream and sugar, while Michael drank his black.

"How was your lecture anyway?"

"Intense," I laughed. "Journalism is not the same as dance by any means, I have to sit in the same place for an hour amd a half and just write."

"It never was going to be like a practical subject though, it's very academic."

"True," I agreed as our food came out. I tucked into my breakfast muffin, which had sausage, cheese, bacon and egg in a muffin, while Michael looked like he was eating heaven in a fried egg sandwich. As I sat chewing my food, a wave of terror coursed through my body and I looked at Michael in panic, clutching the edge of the table as I struggled to breathe.

"Baby what's wrong?" he asked, at my side in an instant.

"Can't breathe," I choked, tears streaming from my eyes, blurring my vision. He went straight for my bag and pulled out my inhaler, and my meds. I took a few puffs of the inhaler, then swallowed two of my anti anxiety pills, and a few moments later the fear moved from my body.

"What happened baby?"

"I don't know, I've been doing so well recently," I said, wiping the tears from my face. "I don't want this to happen again." My voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I know babe, let's try and get you a good therapist," he cooed, stroking my hair as I collapsed onto the floor. His arms wrapped around me, and I felt safe.

We paid for the food and coffee and went for a walk through town, him holding my hand as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, me focusing on taking deep, even breaths. Before I knew it, a looming building was in front of us, and Michael guided me inside. He sat me down, then went to talk to the receptionist, and joined me moments later.

"They're setting up for an evaluation now," he told me, and I nodded. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

"Yes please," I whispered. "They'll probably ask you some questions too so they can get an outsider view on how I react to triggers and how obvious my mental health is and stuff."

"How many times have you done this before?"

"Far too many." A voice called my name, and I followed the blonde haired counsellor through to a private room. All the typical questions were asked, name, diagnoses, sexuality, traumatic experiences, meds, all that jazz. I answered them all honestly, amd then they asked me a question I dreaded.

"On a scale from 1-10, how at risk are you of attempting to take your own life?" I looked at Michael, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes so I didn't have to see his reaction.

"Seven." I heard him gasp, and his grip on my hand tightened. The counsellor left the room and Michael pulled me into his chest, allowing me to rest my temple over his heart.

"Flora, why didn't you tell me?"

"I always am at risk, Mikey, you know that." I hesitated, then inhaled and spoke again. "But some days are worse than others, and I learn to suppress the feelings. However if I didn't have you, I'd more than likely be dead at this point in time." He sighed, rubbing my back gently, and I timed my breaths with his heartbeat.

"I'm glad you're not dead."

*****
so i mentioned my mental health was a shitshow the other day well guess what!!!
it still is
i keep crying over the SMALLEST THINGS and will probs hurt myself tonight bc thats my coping technique, ive already spilled scalding tea down my chest and stomach so im already in pain lmao

song of the chapter: little fall of rain from les mis