✿ marc x nathaniel ✿ oneshot collection ✿

✿nothingness✿

✿trigger warning✿

✿anxiety, panic, harmful tendencies, slight violence✿

He was panicking again. It was twelve hours away from when he had to give the script to Nathaniel. He hated what he had written so far. It just felt wrong. He had been pulling countless all-nighters, trying to figure out what to do. Nothing came to him.

His mind had just gone blank.

Writer's block had gotten the best of him. It loomed over him all day and all night. Not even a simple thought came to him. He just stared at the page that was as empty as his mind. His pencil sat on the loose-leaf paper, itching to be used. He tried sitting in different seats. He tried moving locations entirely. He tried hanging upside down from his desk, his bed, his sofa, even on the stairs. He tried listening to music that he normally would never listen to. He watched videos that always helped with writers block. He even watched a horror movie.

Nothing.

Had he already hit his career peak?

Would he be a dead-beat author for the rest of his life?

Was his friendship with Nathaniel over just as it started?

Was there something wrong with him?

His anxiety went into over-time, practically spewing the horrific outcomes. He couldn't fathom the possibility of any of them happening. This was all he had. He'd do absolutely anything to keep it. Even if it meant reviving old, harmful habits.

He wouldn't allow himself to eat. He wouldn't allow himself to sleep. He only allowed himself to drink after writing at least a thousand words. His phone was shut down until further notice. He would only use his computer for the occasional research when needed. He wouldn't do anything other than sit and stare at his notebook, waiting for something. Anything.

Nathaniel hadn't suspected a thing. He sat in class, slipping in and out of daydreams and drabbles in his mind. He tapped his ink pen against his chin as always, eyes darting across the room. He was always on the lookout for appealing color palettes, inspiring things, or poses he could redraw later from memory. Marc had shown up at their usual meetings in the school's art room, seemingly looking and acting the same.

One day away from the due date, he failed to arrive. Nathaniel had waited twenty minutes for him, thinking that he was just late. He sent texts to Marc, to no avail. He was worried. He decided to walk through the school grounds, hoping that he would find his friend somewhere. Just as he was about to give up and go home, he found Marc sitting alone in the locker room's corner. His notebook was open, the pencil's tip pushed against the paper. Marc huffed, letting the pencil scrape against the thin sheet, wildly moving his hand in random motions. His hand was clenched around the pencil, knuckles turning white. The soft scraping noise stopped, his pencil falling to the floor. He breathed short, jagged breaths, eyebrows furrowing so much that it caused his forehead to ache. Suddenly, Marc started hammering the open notebook onto his face.

"Why?! Won't?! You?! Work?!" he cried, punctuating each word with a hit to the face.

Nathaniel's teal eyes widened, rushing over to his friend's side. He fell to his knees next to the boy, tearing the notebook away from his hands. Faded green eyes fearfully looked up at the other's, tears leaking from them. His heart pounded ruthlessly against his chest, soft gaps breaking through between sobs and hiccups.

It was then that he noticed the dark circles underneath those bright eyes that had faded to a dull shade of green. The redhead didn't know what to say. He had to say something, quickly.

"What's happened?"

Marc desperately shook his head, tightly wrapping his arms around his small frame. "Th-th-there's- there's noth-nothing, N-Na-Nathan-Nathaniel. There's no-nothing." He wept, guilt creeping into his soul. "I'm s-so-sorry."

Nathaniel brushed the pad of his thumb across Marc's face, fresh tears spilling over onto his pale skin. "Hey, hey, don't say that. Yes, it may feel like there's nothing left, but I can promise you that's not the case."

He gently took Marc's hand, opening his clenched fist, turning the palm upward. He took his other hand, placing Marc's thumb onto his wrist, between the thumb and the bone. He nuzzled up to the other's side, wrapping his arm around Marc's waist. "Do you feel that beating against your finger?"

Marc nodded, producing a soft noise of agreement.

"That's your pulse. For as long as your heart is still beating, there is still something. With that one something, it produces many other things. It gives you the will to breathe, the consciousness to think, the energy to function. This one little beat that you feel is doing all of that. That one little something that turned into everything."

Marc closed his eyes, leaning his head against Nathaniel. His heart still pounded, though the flow of tears had slowed to nearly a halt. His head felt dizzy, his chest feeling like a match was lit directly in it's center. Nathaniel quietly traced shapes into the palm of the other's hand.

"Focus on my breathing." He said softly.

He breathed in for four seconds. He held it there for seven seconds. He breathed out for eight seconds. Repeating the cycle, the redhead softly smiled. He felt Marc's breathing slowly starting to mimic his own. They sat huddled together, a peaceful tranquility fell over them.

The fire in his chest was extinguished. His mind became clear, a lovely silence drifting through it. His last tear was shed, travelling down his chin only to drop onto the cold floor. He was... calm.

Marc's eyes fluttered open to gaze at the artist that was snuggled up to his side. His teal eyes met the jade green eyes that he missed so much.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

The last silhouette he traced into his palm was in the shape of a heart.

✿fin✿

✿also published on tumblr and amino✿