(FLUFF AND ANGST)
It will be okay.
(Bipolar!Tyler and Sweetheart!Josh)
Ø
Tyler awakes to sunlight.
It streams in through his window, past the slightly dusty, checkered curtains, dancing across the wooden floorboards in watery, fluid motions.
It hurts his eyes, stinging the soft, doe irises, and so he flops over on the bed and buries his nose into a pillow.
His head hurts. His body is warm, his skin is too warm. It radiates off him in a sickly, thrumming way, and he lets himself suffocate between the wrinkled sheets for a moment. The emptiness is sudden--he'd been expecting it for some time now--but it still takes some getting used to.
He should call Josh. He should go get his pills.
He doesn't get up.
Instead, he listens to the sound of his own breathing, a little too loud, hot against the fabric of his pillowcase. His hair sticks to his forehead, over the back of his neck, matted in unwashed, milk-chocolate curls uncomfortably.
His phone starts to ring in the most obnoxious way, probably because of the new ringtone. He doesn't remember changing it, but it's now just his friend, Brendon, yelling DALLON LIKES DICK into the phone. He only huffs audibly, a rushed breath slipping through his mouth as he turns over once again, hands fumbling for the phone on his nightstand.
"Hello?" he mumbles, head coming to rest, pressed against the edge of the pillow.
"Ty?"
The reception is a little bad. Josh's voice keeps coming in and out, cracked and uneven, but Tyler can hear the sound of a train announcement in the background.
"Josh?" he replies tiredly, with a soft sigh lacing his semi-question, semi-statement. He closes his eyes, before deciding to upturn them up to the bare, white ceiling.
There's a short pause on the other side of the phone.
"I just got off work. Do you want donuts? I'll get some on the way."
Tyler shrugs, before realizing that Josh can't actually see him, and then resolves to another quiet huff.
"Yeah. Okay."
Tyler doesn't need to tell him. He knows. He can always tell. Tyler doesn't know if he's grateful for that, or if it just makes him feel more vulnerable. Maybe both.
Another pause.
"I'm so hungover I think I'm going to die."
Tyler laughs a little--just a barely, loudly-released breath, but it's there.
"About that. Sorry. Me too, though."
Josh doesn't reply, but Tyler can hear the smile in his voice. It's just a Josh thing. He can tell.
"It's okay."
