Anxious is not my style

Part 1

((Haah! no names! hope thats okay guys, if not I can and will take ideas!

Onto the story!))

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Thomas arose one Saturday morning planning to meet up with his best friend Joan  today to discuss any new process for his channel. But roman,  the king of creativity (but was always modest enough to act as a prince around his co-workers who lacked a title)  just didn't feel like getting up today. 

Roman curled tighter around himself as he continued to clutch his chest,  his heart was pounding,  practically vibrating in his chest.  It made his throat feel unusual and his lungs ache as if he had inhaled ice from the snow in the mind palace. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as his thumb played with the fabric if his shirt he was wearing.  It felt softer, thicker and baggier then his normal sleep garments, but the fabric was soothing to feel. 

'Mincey,  maybe?' came the voice in his head as he continued to feel it,  of course,  it was wrong.  This was obviously polyester woven a special way and cleaned with some sort of fabric softener that had given these clothes the effect he had been feeling,  but he wasn't going to check.  He curled up tighter in his bed as he let a shaky breath fall from his lips.  Wrapping his arms around the pillow beneath his head as his body tangled around the blankets,  that was odd as well. Since when did he sleep in such a position that the blankets ended up both above AND beneath him at the same time? 

After several minutes of him being alone in his room.  He still hadn't opened his eyes.  Eventually, there was a soft click. when he was expecting his song he had chosen for the day to play, 'touch the sky' from Brave he was instead greeted with the soft sound of wall-Es soundtrack.  He listened quietly,  brows frowing as he eventually recognised the tune as 'define dancing'. With a grumble  'I didn't ask for that one, room' he sat up and turned the alarm off. All still without opening his eyes. 

Overall,  he had failed though. he heard the glass as it fell and hit the ground with a clatter and ring,  thank god for things being unable to break unless you will it to happen in Thomas's head,  he tried again.  Hearing the lamp fall this time.  He groaned as he finally opened his eyes. Immediately regretting it as he got blasted with the light creeping between the blinds. Rubbing his eyes he reached once more to the alarm and finally hit it instead of something else. The room quiet once more as he yawned.  Stretched and stood up finding his feet had already found their way into slippers on the side of the bed.

Roman didn't bother trying to open his eyes again,  it was too bright this morning to bother right now and he still felt as if his heart were about to explode. Honestly for the first time in a long while didn't want to do his work today. 

He begun to walk towards the door,  he had memorised it's location by now after all the time he spent trying to walk around blindfolded years ago.  It was fun until he accidentally fell down the stairs to the replica of Thomas's house and broken his arm.  Back when he was so young none of the sides knew that pain could be something they could avoid, all sides rooms had the same basic layout anyway,  after all. 

Only,  something went wrong. On his journey just six feet he tripped on something half way and ended up on the mat on the floor with a grunt.  But despite his normal attitude, he just couldn't bring himself to actually get up and instead continued to lay there quietly.

"kiddo?" came the normally bouncy voice of Patton.  But this time the moral side sounded more concerned then playful or exited. Roman let out a defeated groan as he felt Patton's hand against his back.  Barely feeling it under the fabric "sorry,  I know you hate your pappy Patton touching you but I'd like to you if you're feeling in tip top shape" the moral side fussed as he moved his hand from roman's back to one on each of roman's sides,  keeping a nice grip on them as he slowly heaved roman up.