Il libro di Jaylos

like, the one

taken from: derekstilinksi on Fanfiction.net
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Carlos honestly felt like he was going to explode. The pressure in his chest, the anxiety that was currently coursing through his veins, made him want to vomit all over the floor of his and Jay's dorm bathroom.

He braced himself on the counter, finding breathing difficult. His eyes were clenched shut but if they were open he'd be having a staring contest with the faucet below him. He couldn't, wouldn't, look up at his reflection, as if he was scared he'd see his mother, calling him all sorts of degrading and nasty names or something like worthless, useless, cowardly, instead of his own face.

Or, even worse, he'd see his own face saying those things.

His mother's face, and occasionally a darker version of his own, had been plaguing his thoughts, dreams, nightmares, for weeks and the things she said had been the cause of his anxiety build up. He had constant visions of her at night, sometimes just repeating, "Who could love a mutt like you? Worthless, pathetic, little runt. You're no one's one true love." And Carlos would wake up crying, silently or at least quiet enough not to wake Jay.

At some point, it wasn't Cruella anymore or even him. No, it was his friends. Mal, Evie, Jay. Ben, once or twice. Chad, more than a couple times, but mostly it was his best friends.

At some point, he started to believe they meant it, like it was really them in the dream and not some distorted, nightmare version of them.

It was like when you hear something so much that you really start believing it. Or like when you hear a word pronounced a certain way and you start saying it that way yourself gradually.

Of course, he'd never admit this weakness to his friends or anyone else, making the emotional strain on his mind that much worse. At this point it might be the thing to actually kill him.

And so here he was, finally breaking down in a pathetic fit of self pity. He was even mad at himself for crying, even if it was just a tear every once in while escaping. He just wished it had been more like a tantrum, as childish as that may sound, he wished it was an angry, breaking things and fists into walls, angry type of tantrum that someone would see and maybe help him somehow.

But no. No, he had to do the pathetic, crying in his bathroom, completely alone, pity party that no one would find out about.

Or at least, no one except Jay, who Carlos just now realized had been calling his name frantically for about 5 minutes.

"Carlos! Open the door right now!"

"Come on, man, you're freaking me out."

"Carlos, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I'm starting to get worried, Carlos, open the door."

"I can hear you crying, C."

"You're scaring me, buddy, please let me in."

"Let me help," was the last thing Carlos thought he heard Jay say. He opened his eyes to stare down at the white porcelain, briefly wondering if Jay would leave if he just never answered him.

"Carlos, if you don't open the door I'll kick it down," Jay said, not harsh, but stern. "You know I will, don't doubt me."

Carlos sniffled, a new wave of tears threatening to burst over the brim of his eyes. He felt the sting as he reached up to rub at his eyes, his grey sleeve adopting a very noticeable wet spot. He shook his head at how pathetic this all was. He was crying over his mother. His mother who was on an island, far away from him, surrounded by a magical barrier. If he didn't want to, he didn't have to ever see her again and she couldn't even if she wanted to, so he had absolutely no reason to be afraid. And yet, here he was.

He heard a faint sigh on the other side of the door and the familiar heavy step of Jay's combat boots walking away. Carlos felt a strong pain in his chest that Jay would leave and he just couldn't have that. No, he didn't really want Jay there to see him like this, but he'd rather have that than no Jay at all.

He rushed to the bathroom door, frantically unlocking it just to fling it open and throw himself into Jay's arms. He buried his head snug into Jay's chest and the tears broke free.

Words flew out of his mouth at rapid speeds, probably not even in full sentences and probably just a bunch of gibberish. He cried out all of his worries of Cruella, of Auradon, of his friends all while Jay ran a hand through his white curls, silently comforting him.

"- She's right though, n-n-no one wi-ill ev-ver love me-e-e! I d-d-don't deserve a true l-love!" Carlos rambled on frantically of every other variation of those words. Part of him couldn't believe he was actually saying these things, that he was being so pathetic and in front of Jay. Part of him expected some sort of ridicule, even though he knew Jay would never do that to him.

Of course Jay wouldn't. Instead he whispered words of comfort when Carlos had nothing left in him to keep going on. When his tears eventually stopped and were replaced by hiccups and sniffles, Jay shushed him, rocking him back and forth slowly where they stood.

"You deserve all the love in the world, Carlos. You deserve it more than any of us."

"D-dont patronize me."

"I would never. I'm just saying, C, you're someone's 'one', trust me." Jay said.

Carlos scoffed, which hurt his throat, sore from crying. "Whose?"

Jay held him closer, tighter, fearing the words on the tip of his tongue, "Mine. You're my one," he said with as much confidence as he could muster. "Like, the one," he added with a short, nervous chuckle.

Carlos let out a choked sob, or laugh, he couldn't tell, his eyes stinging with the remnants of tears as more threatened to spill out. He nuzzled his head under Jay's chin, his arms around him tightening as if seeing if he was really real and really saying these words.

He was.