Someone who loves me (Lams)

A hot night

I saw some other fanfics have done a "Q&A with the characters" type scenario, and was wondering if that was something you guys would enjoy. If so I'd be happy to receive some questions or alternate suggestions. It'd be neat to get your guys' opinions and thoughts on my story :)

-Johns POV-

I take the pills out of Lafayette's hand, swallowing them with my water. It's been 12 days since we went to the park, 10 since I started taking antidepressants.

Herc created a schedule, and Lafayette has been on my tail about me taking them on time.

I told Laff they weren't working, I didn't feel any different. He didn't budge though, stubborn as an ox. I'm glad he didn't let me stop, the past three nights I have slept all the way through, something I haven't done for at least a year. The voice in my head is less insistent, I think about suicide less and less.

Between the medication and therapy, I'm feeling better. But everything still feels so hard. I've been pushing myself to be open with my problems, and Herc seems excited when I ask him for things. I caught Laff sitting outside my room as I played guitar yesterday, and he sang along with me, crying.

I'm allowed to stay in my own room at nights again, but other than that everything is still as strict as before. My spoon is upgraded to a plastic spork, and I'm allowed to shower with the door closed.

And then there's Alex. When I spend time with him, I feel wanted. I know now that Herc and Laff care, they do want me here, but Alex and I have a special bond. We text each other late into the night, as I try to persuade him to get to bed. I have a date with him tonight, thankfully it's at his house this time.

"You feeling ready for tonight, John?"

"Yeah, I think so. Are you still sure you're okay to drive?"

"It's me or Laff, take your pick."

"Momvan it is."

Laff gives me a pouty face, and I stick out my tongue.

"Fine. You choose Herc to drive, I become the make up artist."

"I don't know which is scarier, you trying to merge, or you coming at my face with a mascara brush."

Lafayette drags me to my bedroom and I plop down on the bed as he flips through my closet. He throws a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a black and white checkered flannel in my direction. I scoop them up before I run to the bathroom. By the time I'm into my new outfit, Lafayette has covered the bed in make up. I'm screwed.

"Come sit, mon ami." He sits criss cross among his torture devices, and I reluctantly sit in front of him. He pulls me onto his lap, examining my face as he tips it to different angles. I don't know what powders all cover my face, but when Laff shows me a mirror I am disappointed for the amount of work that he put in.

"You forgot to cover my freckles."

"I didn't forget! The freckles stay, they're cute. And I'm still not done yet."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

I close my eyes as he continues to attack my face, trying my best not to flinch as he draws a line across my eyelids, and I feel his signature wing tips jutting out to the side.

"You have such long lashes, mon ami, I think we can skip mascara. But we'll need this."

He pulls out a small clamp, squeezing it against my eyelids one at a time. I pop up to leave, but before I can reach the door I am picked up and placed on the floor.