Thanks to xcobbanxbeaumontx for the idea!
❤️❤️
-----------------------------------------------------------Rye
I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me.
Every time one of the boys tried to speak to me I snapped back, retorted, without even meaning to retort. But every word directed at me filled me with anger.
I just wanted to be left alone!
But it got worse during the night; the stress of constantly being angry, and the stress from such a demanding job kept me up so late, and I could never unwind until near to four in the morning.
And then we were up by seven in the morning, so I was even more angry and aggressive, and... the cycle continued.
I didn't remember the last time I'd said something nice to one of the boys, or anyone I cared about. Every word I said was filled with venom and hate, and I didn't know why.
Instead of talking to them as I used to, I invested in longer showers, in baths, because somehow they kept me company.
And then I would wrap myself in blankets when I tried to sleep, hug the pillows on my bed. I hugged the pillows instead of one of the boys, just because I didn't want to. I knew if I did I would just snap, or I would punch one of them.
That was just how I was feeling. Full of rage and hatred and... loneliness? Was that even a thing anymore?
And then I stopped talking to the boys altogether.
My hatred for them upset me, it scared me enough to seclude myself from them.
I would only go downstairs when I knew everyone was asleep, or out of the house, and if we did have to speak I would make my answers as short as possible. I didn't want to hurt them any more than I already had done.
I ended up staying awake all night, sleeping during the day. Avoiding them completely. Going to the studio in the early hours of the morning. Leaving a list of what I'd done so that they could pick it up the next time they were there.
And it was weird, but also calming, staying up all night, every night. It was quiet. It was like the whole world had slowed down, and in effect it slowed me down.
The outside world quiet, as I found out every time I went for a walk outside.
The cold air froze me, but it allowed me to bundle up between that extra layer of clothes. It billowed through my hair when I did laps of the garden. It froze the tears on my cheeks. It froze my breath. It made me stiff and cold.
So when I made my way back inside I had to have a hot drink, and whenever it neared six in the morning I'd go back to my room, bury myself beneath the blankets and surround myself in pillows.
It felt suffocating to an extent, but it made me feel protected, in a weird way.
And then the cycle would continue. I don't remember how long it went on for. I stopped listening to music, simply because I knew it would wake the boys up. And that wasn't fair.
But I was still always so tense and angry and filled with hatred for everything in this house.
I didn't remember the last person I had spoken to, let alone the last words I'd said, let alone the last person I had laid eyes on. I didn't remember the last time I'd had any form of physical contact with everyone.
At some point in the night I got restless, not able to stop pacing back and forth in my room, my fists clenched, and I walked quietly down the stairs into the kitchen.
YOU ARE READING
Roadtrip Oneshots
FanficOneshots and sickfics of our favourite boys. No smut I'm afraid. Trying to get out at least one a week, but depends on how busy I am, and how long they turn out. Either way... enjoy!