❝yours, tommy❞ | dylmas

7. don't move

Dylan POV

I've got thousands of questions to ask Thomas, but he seems tired and in shock, staring at the glovebox, not saying a word. His gaze looks empty. Every second I drive, keeping my thoughts for myself, is a torture. Also, I'm worried as fuck. What happened? Paparazzi's? I didn't know Thomas could have panic attacks.

I keep seeing him on the floor, shaking in the arms of Rosa. It breaks my heart and I don't know if I'm more sad, or worried, or angry.

I pull over my car into my driveway and look at him, but he doesn't move, I don't even know if he noticed that we were home.

"Tommy?" I call him gently.

"Hm?" he hums softly, as if he was too tired to make actual words out of his mouth.

"We're home."

He slowly raises his eyes to meet mine and seems to reconnect with reality a little bit. We both get out of the car and I hold him close, arm around his waist, as we make our way up the few stairs before my front door.

Once we're in the hallway, Thomas lets his back slide against the wall until he's on the floor, so I sit next to him and take his hand in mine.

"I'm sorry Dylan."

"What? You don't have to apologize, Tommy. It's okay." I pause before asking the question I've been holding for twenty minutes. "...How long have you been having panic attacks?"

He sighs loudly and smiles sheepishly to me as he answers my question. "A while. Couple of years."

"This long? I don't understand Tommy I've never seen you like..."

"I didn't have many panic attacks on set, Dyl", he interrupts me. "Just a few but I managed to hide when it happened. Ki Hong once found me though", he slightly chuckles, sniffling.

A sad smile plays on my face and I'd like to comfort him, but I just don't know what to say. Thomas continues to share with me. "Sometimes it happens when I'm alone and surrounded by too many people or noises. I haven't been... Feeling myself lately. I'm much more anxious than before and... I guess that's why those panic attacks kick in when I can't find a way to get away from stressful situations."

"Oh, Tommy..."

"I'll tell you everything eventually. I just don't have the energy now. Thank you for coming and get me."

I've got a knot in my throat as I imagine my friend suffer that much. How couldn't I see it?

"It's okay, my Tommy", I say as I cup his cheek and slowly caress his face with my thumb. "I'm here for you now."

🌼

We cuddle for hours in the couch, I made some hot chocolate for Thomas earlier and now he's feeling better, even though he's really tired and has a light headache because of the crying. We talked a lot about everything, I learned some things like what his favorite flowers are (cherry blossoms), his favorite ice cream flavor, and others details about him. He now has his head on my lap, and I play with his long soft hair.

"Hey Tommy? Do you want to watch all the bloopers and stuff? I thought it would make you laugh and maybe feel better?"

"It's a good idea my flower."

The bloopers and gag reels are actually really funny, and it reassures me to see Thomas having a good time after this morning. I blush when there's this scene of Thomas and I, kissing through our WCKD uniforms in the lift. It's worse when Tommy turns his head to face me and winks. My whole face heats up and I surprise myself wondering "what if we didn't have those masks on?"