Letting Go

Arrival and Worry

Dillion's POV

      As I walk down the sidewalk, my legs and hands continue to shake, the fear of something happening, along with the dumb shit Kane pulled has my anxiety reaching for the skies.

     Every time a car gets too close or I have to cross another street, my breathing picks up and it's almost impossible to get myself across.

     A normal, mentally stable person probably thinks I'm on an acid trip, and I wish I was. Dealing with the flashbacks in my mind while trying my damn hardest to get to work isn't proving to be the easiest combination.

      Even so, it doesn't take long for the gym to come up in the distance. The visual makes me speed up as much as I can, wishing to be away from the speeding cars and reckless drivers. The ones that talk on the phone, and drive with one hand and blast music to its highest setting.

      Because this is how I lost him.

      And I don't want to end up like him.

      Pushing his damn face from my mind, I struggle the last quarter mile to the gym until I find myself outside of its doors, pulling weakly on the handle and struggle to get the damn thing open.

      I don't even make it ten steps inside before Vincent is coming towards me with a worried and anxious expression.

      I open my mouth to ask him what is wrong, hoping I didn't walk into another chapter of a complete shitty day, but he beats me to it, his hands coming down to rest on my shoulders. "I'm glad you finally made it. Are you okay? Do you need to talk?" He asks me and I frown in confusion.

      "What? How are you talking about?" I ask him, my brain too sluggish from moving too fast and sending me into am anxiety attack.

       "I heard about what happened to you. Are you okay?" He says and I frown at him.

        "How do you know what happened? The only person that.... oh." The realization makes my lip curl in disgust in anger. If there's one thing that I hate besides cocky assholes, it's cocky assholes that can't drive.

       And of course the smug bastard has to fall into that category.

        "Don't worry about him. Come with me." He says and though I know I'm late and that I need to get started on my job before I get behind, I follow Vincent from the floor where all the gym equipment is before he leads me up the stairs to his office.

       He opens the door for me and I enter, going to sit down on the couch that's facing the huge windowed wall looking down. I sit on the couch sideways and watch him go to his desk and take out a bottle that he saves for really rough days and brings me a small glass of alcohol. He comes to sit on the couch next to me and I just set my head on the back of the chair, holding the glass to my chest.

        "You haven't had a breakdown in a while." He tells me and his words aren't judgmental or impressed or anything, only the small baritone of stating facts.

       "That's because I drink all my feels away. I would rather deal with hangovers instead of break downs." I tell him with a sigh and I can feel disappointment in the air, between the two of us it's almost suffocating.
       
       "You can't just hold things in every time something happens to you. At some point it has to be let out." Vincent tells me and even though I know he's right and that I need to take better care of myself, I only nod my head, half listening as my body and mind finally begin to wind down from the uptight and stressed state my body found itself in.

       "I can. I've been doing it for you, Vincent." I tell him, taking a sip of my drink, shivering in familiar delight at the smooth burn gliding down my throat and chest.

        "You're going to fall apart. One day, everything is going to be within reach but it's going to fall away from your fingertips because you're scared." He turns to me with a frown on his face and I can tell that this is something that bothers him though I'm not quite sure I get the message or concept.

         "Scared? Scared of what?" I ask him, knowing too many answers I can give and needing him to help my frazzled brain out as I continue to nurse the drink in front of me.

        "Scared of commitment. Scared of attachments. Scared of affection.....Scared to live."

         "Yeah. I get the picture. But I'm content with being bitter and unhappy. It's one of those things where you get used to it and you don't want anything more. All I need is this job and alcohol. And maybe a few hours of sleep." I joke to myself with a small chuckle but I can tell my boss isn't amused.

        But, like the person he is, he can tell when I need the conversation to be over so I don't get even more upset, and instead changed it to a much more amusing topic.

        "I got that man you were staring at to do your chores." He tells me and my lips twitch up in a smile in disbelief as my eyebrows raise.

         "You got Kane to wipe equipment? How the hell did you do that?" I ask him and he chuckles before shaking his head.

         "I told him he had to until you felt and looked better. He didn't raise a fuss at all. He came and told me what happened as soon as he came in. He seemed apologetic about it but I couldn't really tell." Vincent says and that's a scary thing. If he can't tell what you're thinking or feeling, that means you're way too good at hiding emotions and you should see a doctor.

        "That asshole is causing too much trouble in my damn life and it's only been two days." I complain lowly to myself and Vincent snorts in amusement as he grabs my now empty class and gets up to put them away.

        "Oh, I have a feeling it's going to last a lot longer than that."

~~~~~~~~~
Dude I hate my life sometimes lmaooo. But Dillan is so baby and Kane better treat him right as he mfkn should.

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