Danny sucked in a pained breath through his clenched teeth. He lifted the washcloth from his hip and tentatively touched the surrounding skin. It pulsed with pain.
He didn't even realize the bullet grazed his hip until later in the night when he tried to lay on his side. It wasn't worth almost dying over—twice actually—because the only thing in the bag from the sunken boat was a stupid compass.
It was John B's father's, but still.
He turned off the shower and grabbed his towel. He stepped out of the tub and wrapped it around his waist. Danny wiped his hand over the fogged mirror and stared at his reflection. His eyes focused on his frown.
He swallowed and forced the edges of his lips to lift. He held the position for a few seconds before a deep breath escaped his lungs, and he dropped his chin to his chest and leaned his hands on the counter space of the sink.
He was getting bad again.
His insomnia's always paired with his depression. He couldn't help it. As much as he forced himself to smile and forced sleeping pills down his throat, nothing worked the way he needed them to. It came in waves. He just had to ride it out like the last time.
People always said that depression's fake and easy to control, but he knew it wasn't. Why would he fake it in eighth grade when he first started to suffer? He had a great relationship with his mom, amazing friends, and was an honor roll student. He had no real reason to be sad, but he was anyway.
It was cliche to describe it like a storm cloud above his head, but that's what it felt like to him. He could use an umbrella to mask the effects; his mom, his friends, but the rain was still there. The harder he fought against the wind to keep his umbrella upright, the more drained he felt emotionally.
He lifted his head and stared at the mirror. He stretched a smile across his lips and held the position. He read somewhere once that the act of smiling will make a person happier. He kept it up until his cheeks ached and his lips wobbled.
Light knocks rapped against the door.
"Come in," Danny answered quietly. He ran his fingers through his hair to try and style it.
JJ peaked his head through the crack in the door. "You all right?" he asked hesitantly.
Danny can easily brush aside a lot of mindless bullshit, but the only thing that really gets to him is people worrying about him. It's a bit hypocritical since that's practically his job title in the friend group, but he hated when the roles were reversed.
He'll shut down and change the topic. He loved being the center of attention, but not when it really mattered.
He felt too vulnerable, too exposed, too real.
"Yeah, I'm great. Why?"
Danny glanced over JJ's shoulder when he heard a crash in the kitchen. He rolled his eyes to himself as he opened the mirror to grab his toothbrush.
JJ stepped into the bathroom. He closed the door and leaned against it. "Well, you only take long showers when you're sad," he whispered.
Danny stopped his teeth from grinding against each other, filtering his eyes in JJ's direction before staring into the mirror again. "Well, maybe I was waiting for you to join me."
"You can talk to me, you know? About anything."
Danny closed his eyes and let his features drop slack, too tired to keep schooling them into something presentable. He nodded.
"Truth for truth?"
It was a game they used to play a lot. It was for entertainment mostly. They'd spill the most embarrassing memories or their deepest desires, but only occasionally did they use it for more therapeutic purposes. It was under the guise of the game, which was just as far as Danny was willing to go most of the time.
YOU ARE READING
Exception // JJ Maybank
Fanfiction"Don't give me that look. You love me." "Wish I didn't." Daniel Sarver is probably the only Kook on the island who doesn't attend the private school for rich kids and participate in their even more pretentious lifestyle. He's probab...
