Bloom

44. intimate documentaries

Haven

"Is he alright? I'm sorry I came over, maybe it's the wrong timing. It totally is, isn't it? I was just really worried.." I hesitated, my eyes eventually finding Hannah's soft, brown ones.

She opened the door a little more, motioning for me to come in. "Don't say sorry, Haven. I'm sure he appreciates it." Once I was in, she closed the door behind me, her eyes lingering on me while I took off my coat and shoes. "Are you alright?"

"No." I felt tears pricking behind my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away, not feeling the need to show my emotions so clearly, when it wasn't about me. "I mean, I laid my hand on his shoulder, I thought it would comfort him but that's when he.. when he flipped. I feel really guilty. I only wanted to help him but- and when he was on the floor I had my arms wrapped around me and-"

"Hey." Hannah briefly stroked my cheek, then pointed at the living room. "Drink something, love."

Taking a few sips of the strawberry lemonade she had prepared me, I took a deep breath, staring up at their family photo's. It must be so hard to see your own son having a meltdown, not being able to calm him down at that very moment. It must be so difficult to know that a meltdown was caused when they lost control of their behaviour due to being overstimulated.

I stared at the little boy with the green eyes, a sheepish smile on his face and not directly looking into the camera.

"Do you want to see him? He's upstairs in his room." Hannah wondered, clearly she had seen me staring at his photo's.

"I don't know.. I don't know if it's the right time. Is he calm? I did a stupid thing, maybe he's mad-"

"Haven," Hannah frowned lightly and quickly shook her head. "Don't think that way. He gets in some sort of daze while having a meltdown. You shouldn't take it personal. He probably didn't even know who touched him. He's just really sensitive, will hit or kick anyone around him. He doesn't really.. know. Besides, holding him so close to you was a good thing to do.. he calms down that way."

"Really?" I said, hopefully. I had read that before, but who knew? Everybody was unique, everybody experienced it differently.

"Really." Hannah smiled. We stayed silent for a while, but we could hear a soft voice coming from upstairs. "He's singing. He does that to calm down. Usually the song his dad wrote him when he was little. Zayn used to sing that to him when he was having panic attacks, or when he wasn't feeling well. Did you know Zephaniah used to be on a boy's choir?"

I couldn't help but smile, wanting to hear his voice better. "No way, really? Goodness, that must've been the cutest thing to watch." I chuckled, staring at another photo now. Zephaniah looked older, but still innocent. He must've been around twelve years old at that time. His cheeks were flushed red, his head slightly tilted to the left side, half of his mouth curled up in a small smile. He was crouched down beside Cooper, who looked as calm as always.

"You should accompany him." Hannah stood up from her chair and gave me a soft smile. "We already talked, he should be fine. And if he doesn't want it, he'll make that clear in a way. I need to call his dad."

"Alright, thanks Hannah."

"No worries, love." She answered, then left to the office Zephaniah and I had printed something last time we studied at his house.

Walking upstairs, my thoughts went back to the morning at school. Tara had specifically told me to stay out of his space- he didn't have a good day. I had hesitated a lot- Tara had lied before, after all. But he had looked so tired, so isolated that I decided to leave him be for a while, only to give him space.