He's Not Like Them- Troyler AU

Chapter 17- Please Be Dreaming

Tyler's POV-
"Tyler!"
I groan and sit up. I take a moment to remember I am back home by mommy hers request. I swing my legs over and start downstairs. I follow the scent of sizzling bacon into the kitchen. My mom has prepared a full course breakfast. I smile and take the plate she is offering. I sit down and pick at my scrambled eggs.
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"How do you know someone likes you?" I ask shyly. I've never had more than a one week crush so everything I feel now is confusing.
"Oh, so there's a boy?" My mom says and quirks her eyebrows playfully.
"Maybe," I can already feel my cheeks heating up.
"Well they care, a lot. You always catch them looking at you with that admiration smile thing. They laugh even if your joke isn't funny. But if it's love, it's like being home," my mom says and continues eating her toast like she didn't just spout a poetic verse. I think for a minute. Troye is all of that. Especially feeling like home, and I guess that's why even though I've grown up here my entire life, this his he doesn't feel like home because I miss Troye already. God, I am pathetic. Of course he doesn't like me. He's not even gay!
"Tyler, you look worried, spill," my mom says, ringing a spoon on the glass in front of me.
"Well there is this guy, Troye, and were roommates by some odd fates. But the thing is I don't even know if he is gay or straight or whatever but he's so cute, mom. I feel safe around him even though he has this temper that is sometimes scary but I love it. And he's different. I like his uniqueness but then at school, nobody understand why I like to hang out with him. I always tell them they should get to know him it people think he's a monster but he's great mom. Kind and funny and undeniably genius. I just don't know how to handle him, he's so much of so many things," I say, breathless. My mom doesn't say anything for a while. But then she takes my hand across the table add I look up at her.
"Listen Tyler, I can tell you really like this guy. I hope things work out, but this sounds like a person who has built up a lot of walls. You have to break those down first to get anywhere. Just be careful, with anyone," my mom advises. I smile at her and nod. She may have seemed like an embarrassing philosopher as a teen but now I just realize she was trying to teach me things you usually have to learn from experience.

When we finish breakfast, she catches me up on my old favorite reality tv shows from earth. We watch them all day and well into morning before erasing out completely. I needed to come home to old habits for a while. I needed this.

Troye's POV-
I am regaining my conscious. I keep my eyelids closed, but the bright light still filters through, turning my vision orangey pink. I open my eyes and blink to adjust to the light. I turn my phone on. I was only asleep for 36 hours or so but I feel like a new person. I stand up and walk over to the bathroom. I look in the mirror. My eyes have sunken in it seems, even though I slept for a day and half. I pull up my sleeves and turn in the water. I splash some cold water in my face to wake me up and I look into the mirror. I don't know who this reflection represents anymore. I look back down at my hands. I turn off the water. The sound reminds me of drowning. I run my fingers lightly over my forearm. My most recent cuts have scanned up pretty well. I touch a particularly tender one by accident and wince as a sharp pain shoots up my arm and makes me shiver.
I leave the bathroom and walk over to my bed. Along the foot of it lays my jacket. (A/N; it just occurred to me that the clothing situation could be confusing considering the wings situation, but just imagine it as like buttons around holes for wings that you button up to fit your wings, ok... Hope that is cleared up) I pick it up and search my pockets for my trusty little plastic bag. I fish it out and Pop one of the pills in my mouth, the drugs sinking into me and making everything numb and disturbingly comforting. It's funny how everything was better than it had ever been for a while there, but it was just the eye of the hurricane. You get through the worst and you think you're fine, then Suddenly everything is worse than ever and you come crashing back harder than ever. I hate it. It's a cycle, a lonely one too. I always think the 'phase' is over only to return to bad habits and everything goes down the drain. I push myself away from my bed, out of the door, away from what hurts me, away from the reminder that I'm alone again. I run, just run. I don't even have shoes. I stop when I get to the glass hallway that connects the dorms to the courtyard. I peer out at grey clouds and down at a couple walking calmly on the sidewalk below. I watch as the guy grabs the girl and she pulls away. Then he grabs again. She pulls away and starts walking faster. He catches up and tries to kiss her. She slaps him. He is reaching to grab her again. I lift my hand to the wall and flick my wrist. The guy goes flying back. He lands and doesn't stand up. The girl runs away. I look back at my hand, suddenly aware of what I just did. I'm not supposed to be able to do that. I am not supposed to be able to do that. I start waking back to my room. Suddenly I'm paranoid. Somebody saw me, surely. Somebody knows I'm more than different. I start running. When I get back to the dorm, my breath is ragged and my head is pounding. I close the door and sink to the floor, propped against the cold, sleek wood. I sink my head into my hands and rest my hand on my knees. I try to breath, but everything is wrong and breathing seems strangled and impossible. I crawl to my bathroom. I feel sick. I get to the toilet just in time. I vomit, but it's blood. Only blood. I flush it away, feeling even sicker. This is wrong. Nobody is supposed to be able to control other humans like that, not even those specializing in mental displacement. Nobody, except...no,no,no,no,no. It's not right. It's a dream. I pinch myself, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. I pinch so hard I bleed. I look around desperately, anything to tell me this is all a dream. It has to be. I'm not from the royal blood line. What I did would be impossible. I did do that, right? It seemed real. It was real. This is all real. Real and demanding to be dealt with. I can't brush this to the side. This isn't just a slip up to sweep under the rug. Nobody can know about this, not even Tyler. This is big. And dangerous. To me and everyone else. I don't know how to control a power like this. It's like my hand moved itself. I curl up on the bathroom floor. Even though I am shivering, I am too preoccupied to worry. So I lay with goosebumps on my body with blood pumping underneath this thin skin, blood that shouldn't be mine. I am terrified and confused and alone when I needed somebody to snap me back to reality the most. Even though I was never much for the religious thing, I pray that this is just some wacked up hallucination from the anexe. But I know, in the back of my mind and the pit of my stomach that it isn't. That this clicks into place too well with everything else that is wrong with me.

A/N: fun fact it's like 1:30 am. Everything will make sense soon, trust me. I know it's short, in typing on my phone okay. I only wrote this because I needed to busy myself with something. Don't feel Obligated to read the rest of this at all, j just need to rant. So my stories are so depressing lately, trust me I know. It's just that I was clean since a little before Christmas and then yesterday, I don't know something broke and I was laughing one second then literally the second I was alone, I ruined everything. Nearly a month clean, down the drain, gone. So my life is a mess. My friend is mad and I have absolutely no idea, my 'boyfriend' hasn't spoken to me in 2 weeks and my grades are dropping. I am writing three stories rn too so that is stressful, but it's the only thing I can do that works when I want to cut. God, just thinking about it makes me uncomfortable. I hate that I'm addicted. It's like being addicted to heroine or cigarettes, you know it's bad and you should stop but at the same time it feels so right. And this wasn't just one cut out of anger. This was everywhere, a lot. Hips, stomach, arms, wrist and so much. I hate it. I regret it so much. Please never pick the razor up, it's never going to be easy to drop. I'm sorry, I just had to get that out and this is basically anon since nobody knows me irl. I'm sorry, I know you don't want to here that but yeah, sometimes you need a release valve for a few minutes.

But thanks for reading and voting, you brighten my day :)