Kitty 🐺

clock

the house was silent as i wrote back to fans and the clock was starting to get on my nerves.

tick.

the sound of pen on paper continued to scratch.

tock.

i could hear my own heart beat, it was so quite.

tick.

my breathing was slow and shallow.

tock.

my wrist began to hurt with how much i had been writing.

tick.

that clock.

tock.

that damn clock.

tick.

i'm ready to rip it from the wall.

tock.

the ticking is increasingly annoying and it's about to make me lose my mind.

tick.

the clock!

tock.

make it stop.

tick.

with that one last tick, i jump up from the dining room table with a scream of frustration.

that fucking clock is going to make me lose my mind. i can't handle it. tick. tock. tick. tock. i can't! i can't focus!

i began to pace around, clutching at my hair. hello, mental breakdown.

tears began to fall before i could even stop them. i growl in anger and punch the closest wall, leaving a dent. it made me stop and look at it.

did i really just do that?

"kitty! are you okay?" corbyn asks, running from our room.

he pries my hands from my hair and wraps his arms around me tight, letting me calm down.

i bury my face in his shoulder and take a deep breath, letting my eyes fall shut. he slowly starts to rock us back an forth.

"i was just trying to write back to fans, and the clock made me lose focus and it overwhelmed me." i explain quietly.

"oh, i see. do you want me to take the clock down?"

"no, it's okay. i was just overwhelmed."

corbyn didn't say anything after that, but he didn't let go of me.

crying had drained me, and with the rocking adding to it, i was growing too tired too fast.

"sleepy." i mumble.

corbyn just picks me up bridal style and carries me to our bedroom. he sets me down and i scoot back, letting him crawl into bed too.

he wraps his arms around me again, pulling me close.

he kisses my forehead, and then i drift off to sleep before anything else happened.