Train Me

Chapter 5

Can's POV

The condo lay in darkness in front of them when they stepped out of the elevator. Can had a joke about how he was disappointed such an expensive apartment didn't come with automatic lights at the tip of his tongue.

His ADHD medication was wearing off, and on intense days like today, he felt the difference acutely. He felt like he needed to talk in order to understand his own thoughts. His suppressed appetite was coming back, his body was getting twitchier and more fidgety, and his thoughts were getting jumpy.

It was nowhere near the level it had been before he got medicated. Even after the effects wore off, the mental energy it saved him during the day, the coping mechanisms he had learnt, it all made it manageable.

But somehow, he didn't want to confront Tin with this on top of asexuality today. Can was confident that Tin wouldn't go running for the hills because of this, but still... Tin would probably be shocked if he saw videos of Can from the time before the breakdown that had led to his diagnosis, when he had been a ball of boundless energy, who was chattering non-stop and seemingly unable to listen or sit still for more than two seconds.

As often was the case, though, because ADHD made self-organisation and self-care so hard, he had had to learn so much about it, that he was now really good at it and he enjoyed helping others with it, too.

Still, the years he had lost struggling to keep up with the others who didn't have the same difficulties, the years he had had to listen to people calling him annoying, useless, lazy, stupid, and childish... these years had left a permanent mark on him. The scar would never properly go away, but Can was glad it had healed to the point it only stung a little, and didn't throw him off anymore.

Breathing through deeply a few times, Can anchored himself in the reality of the moment again. Whatever might happen, he would take it as it came and not worry about it.

Tin finally switched the light on next to him.

At first, Can thought the light didn't make much of a difference. They were standing in a short corridor leading into a large, open room and the window-front behind it, the busy city lights far below them. Tin's condo was at the top floor of a relatively new luxury high-rise. In the car, he had told Can that the condo – as well as his main house in the outskirts of the city – were part of the real estate portfolio he had inherited from the Medthanan family.

Can wondered whether this was the reason the apartment felt so cold and impersonal.

Now that he had had time to let his gaze wander a bit, and he had taken a few steps down the corridor towards the living area, he couldn't help thinking it looked like a fancy hotel suite.

Not that Can had ever been to one, but they showed these luxury rooms on the tv shows his ma liked to watch all the time.

Can still tried, and failed, to find anything about the condo that betrayed the fact that someone was living here permanently, and not just passing through.

The dark-grey floor, made of some kind of no doubt expensive stone was warm under his socked feet, but it still felt cold somehow – and like everything else, it was impeccably clean.

Tin probably paid cleaning staff to come here to clean every day.

The open kitchen that was part of the living area looked like it had never been used. The reddish-brown wood that made up its panelling only contributed to the depressingly colourless look of the condo.

As soon as Can had noticed the lack of colour, it became so obvious it almost physically hurt. The sofa looked fancy, but was made of black leather, the white carpet underneath it might add some much-needed light, but it didn't add colour. Neither did the glass tables – one big dinner table, one small coffee table.