Adrian Ivashkov đ§đź (ivashkinator) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-02-27 21:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * emily, * kit, c: connor reed, c: sofia nichols |
Who: Connor Reed and Sofia Nichols
When: February 28, 2019
Where: Dunhaven University
What: Sofia checks in on her wayward friend.
Rating: Talk of depression and parent death.
Prompt: Accidental Hand Hold
Connor squinted, his eyes sensitive to the sun after spending the past few days holed up in his dorm room. For having stayed in bed for the past three or four days, Connor didnât exactly look well rested, his eyes ringed with dark circles and his lip still had an ugly bruise and cut. What had lured him out was an urgent letter that his long suffering academic adviser had slipped under his door; something sheâd resorted to, no doubt, since Connor had not only been neglecting to answer his phone, but had more or less willfully let its battery drain and die. He wasnât good company right now, and after forcing himself to be there for his friends a few times, Connor eventually decided that it was probably better that he not bum everyone out with his unshakeable and inexplicable dark mood and just ride this out on his own--with a little alcoholic help, of course. Heâd figured he might as well get the meeting over with, otherwise it would only eat at him. It had just been another blow to Connorâs fragile psyche; his adviser was exasperated at how much progress heâd shown recently only to blow it by completely neglecting to write a major course paper. It was difficult for Connor not to be fatalistic--he was failing at college, he wasnât sure how much longer he could do this, and that dread didnât exactly inspire his writing abilities. In fact, Connor was pretty intent on just retreating back to his dorm room, if it wasnât for the fact that he did admittedly need sustenance, having ate--and drank--virtually everything heâd had in there. Slouching down into a booth in the cafeteria, Connor frowned down at an uninspiring slice of pizza. Sofia hadnât spoken to Connor in days, something she may have not considered concerning had that not struck up a decent friendship that usually entailed Connor texting her random pictures he thought were funny on a near daily basis. She, in turn, would send him random trivia which she assumed was far less entertaining to him, but he accepted without mocking her, nonetheless. So it was weird for him to just fall off the face of the planet. Sheâd noticed his absence, too, because sheâd been wanting to talk to him--one serious topic, and one heâd probably tease her about, but both things that sheâd found herself wanting to talk to him about over most anyone else. So when sheâd spotted his familiar figure off to the side of the cafeteria where sheâd popped in between classes to grab free coffee, she made a beeline for his booth and slid into the seat across from him without first asking permission. Sheâd been about to give him a hard time for his absence when she finally took in his appearance and suddenly nothing sheâd had to say to him seemed very important at all. âI was going to say hi,â Sofia said, brow furrowing in concern, âbut letâs skip that and go straight to what on Earth happened to you? Are you okay?â Looking up and meeting Sofiaâs gaze, he felt caught between the usual sense of comfort he got from being around her and total embarrassment that she had to him like this. Lifting a shoulder, Connor said, âIâm fine. Iâve justâŚâ he paused, struggling to come up with a descriptor to follow that just--the problem was, Connor didnât know why he got like this, or why it was so hard for him to snap out of it. âI guess I havenât been feeling well,â he admitted, dodging his obviously busted lip entirely. Connor took a bite of the pizza that he didnât really want so as to give him a reason to end his response there. Sofia shook her head, slipping into her familiar role of wanting, and needing, to take care of the people around her. âNo, thatâs not a good enough answer. Whereâd you get the bruise, Connor? The split lip?â Usually so meek, so easy to push around, Sofia always knew how to come into her own when it meant being there for her friends, her family, and even though sheâd only known him for a handful of weeks, and even fewer dreams, Sofia counted Connor in one of those categories. She wouldnât back down, not when he looked soâŚdefeated. âYouâre not fine.â Connor closed his eyes and rubbed his palm over his forehead--he knew he wasnât going to be able to lie to Sofia, because sheâd see right through it. And he didnât really want to tell her that he got into some random bar fight, no big deal, because he didnât want her to think that of him, either. Not that the truth really painted him in the best light here anyway. He took a deep breath. âSome guy punched me a few days ago,â he admitted, âWell, not just some guy...I mean...I know him. We went to highschool together...and middle school. And, well, elementary as well,â Connor explained, as it somehow just dawned on him that given the duration of Connorâs acquaintanceship with Cash, Cashâs opinion of him was probably pretty well-informed. Better informed than Sofiaâs, anyway. He frowned and took another bite of pizza. Sofia looked outraged. What were they, twelve? Some guy had a grievance so he had to punch someone instead of using his words? She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. âWhat happened? Why did he punch you? And before you start worrying about it, thereâs no answer you can give me thatâs going to make me think it was justified. Honestly, whatever it was, punching someone is still barbaric and the most unintelligent response I can honestly think of.â Sofia mostly believed that. She thought maybe there were situations where physical violence was called for, but she was entirely confident that Connor wouldnât have provoked that response himself. Connor bit his lip, not really wanting to dive into all this, but knowing that Sofia wasnât going to accept a nonanswer. âI...uh...well, I hooked up with his ex-girlfriend a few months ago,â he explained, cringing a bit, because that was not the part of himself that he wanted to put forth to Sofia, even if heâd been questioning whether or not he even had any other selves. âI mean, they werenât together anymore at the time, but...well, I understand better than most how that hurts, which is also why it was a pretty fucked up thing for me to have done.â Okay, well, maybe she hadnât wanted to hear that answer. It bothered her more than she really could process why, but this wasnât about her and why she didnât like thinking about who Connor Reed had hooked up with before sheâd even known him. It was about him and the fact that that definitely didnât deserve what heâd gotten. âUm, no,â she replied and, without thinking about it, she slipped her hand across the table and touched his. âYou are not responsible for other peopleâs drama. If they werenât together then he has absolutely no right to be angry with you.â She realized what sheâd done, then, and pulled her hand back across the table, a slight blush blooming across her cheeks. She frowned. âWho was it?â Connor looked down in surprise at her hand over his--it felt nice, though totally unexpected. He wouldnât have thought this would be the conversation that sparked that, and Connor knew he looked fairly repulsive in more way than one. Her hand over his made him feel slightly less so, and he was sorry when she pulled it back. âWhat?â he asked. âOh...Cash Wolfe,â he said, too distracted to dodge the question. âYou probably donât know him.â âNo, I donât know him. But I will,â Sofia promised, a fire in her eyes that wasnât normally there. âIn the meantime--and I mean this with absolutely no disrespect--you donât look very good right now, Connor. Is there more going on? How can I help? You can talk to me, you know. Like that day in DC.â Connor paused, then rubbed his eyes. This was always the difficult question, because he never knew how to answer it. âWell...I guess Iâve sort of been feeling this way since then,â he admitted. âItâs just...gradually gotten worse,â he explained. âBut I donât really--I mean--I donât really know how to talk about it,â he said. âBecause I donât really know whatâs going on, I just feel...bad. Just bad,â Connor said. âItâs in part the dreams, I guess...Adrian--he has a lot of big emotions, and theyâre not easy to shake, but itâs also...itâs also that I feel that way too. Only I have less of a reason to. I have a good family, good friends...but sometimes I just feel like--I donât know.â Sofia felt her heart breaking for him. Seeing him like this, hearing him describe what was going on in his head, she hated it and not because it made her uncomfortable, but because it was hurting him. Maybe it was just because Connor was her friend, or maybe it was because Adrian and become Sydneyâs friend against all odds, but she couldnât just sit here and let him hurt without trying to do something about it. And, ever the science-minded person she was, her first thought was exactly that. âConnor,â she started, slowly trying to put the pieces together in her own head, while also trying to tread carefully so as not to make him feel worse. âHave you--have you ever considered actually talking to someone about how confusing and heavy your headspace is sometimes? Like not just me, but someone who can actually help you make sense of it?â She was the last person who could really suggest such a thing, since sheâd blown off her own opportunity to talk through her feelings with someone after her mom had died, but she hadnât been ready to confront those feelings. If she had to be a hypocrite to help her friend, then she could live with that. âI just want to see you feeling better again.â Connor frowned, âLike who?â he asked. Sofia bit her lip, hesitating. She wasnât sure how he might take the suggestion, mostly because she knew sheâd hated the suggestion herself. That was entirely because sheâd felt so out of control after everything had happened, though, and a slew of other things, and she knew Connor wasnât her. âLike a therapist,â she finally said. âElias said his has been so helpful since Mom--since we lost our mom and, I donât know, maybe it would be nice to have someone whoâs been through years of school and paid tens of thousands of dollars for an education that enables to to make sense of the things that we canât always make sense of ourselves. You wouldnât have to talk about the dreams, but maybe it would feel good to work through whatâs going through your head.â Connor frowned doubtfully, âI don't knowâŚ.I never had anything big like that happen to me to talk about,â he said, biting his lip, âI'd be afraidâŚ.I guess I'd be afraid they'd think I was just crazy. And I'm not, I mean...my mom actually is a psychologist. She would probably notice if there was something like that wrong,â he said, leaving out the part about how he actively hid feeling like this from his mom. âWhat happened to your momâŚ?â he asked after a beat. Sofia shrugged. âIn comparison to other people with âbigger issues,â neither have my brothers or me, and yet my brother has been going for two years now. He's the smartest person I know, so I trust his judgment, and sometimes it's nice just to have someone to talk about the small stuff with.â She smiled reassuringly, leaning forward again. âAnd he's definitely not crazy, so going doesn't make you crazy by default. I don't think you're crazy, at all, actually.â And then because she wanted to see him smile, and thought it worth trying to make it happen, she teased, âAt least not clinically.â At this question, Sofia sat back, her hands falling into her lap as her walls almost visibly went up, as they tended to do when the topic of her mother came up. But this was Connor and she was sitting here trying to encourage him to talk, so maybe it was important for her to talk, too, even if only to him. She frowned, eyes casting sadly downward as she let herself feel the weight of the loss that was always there, hiding in plain sight, though more palpable the last couple of days since her blowup with her father. âShe had cancer,â she replied. âShe and my dad told us it was going to be fine and then, two years ago, she was gone. So, you know, it wasnât fine, at all.â Connorâs lips quirked upward in a faint smile. âI donât know,â he said after a moment, âIâll think about it...I guess Iâm just afraid of what they might say,â he admitted. âIâm so sorry,â Connor said, his shoulders sagging a bit. âI canât even imagine what thatâs like...it makes sense that your brother would want to talk to someone about that,â he said, looking down, lost in thought for a moment. Then his eyes flicked back up to Sofia. âHave you ever...well, seen a therapist yourself?â Connor asked. Sofia shook her head. âI--well, no,â she admitted, though she hated having to undermine her own suggestion. âItâs not that I donât see the merit in doing it because I do, but itâs been two years and talking about her still feels like something Iâm not ready to face head on like that. It feels too big, like it might actually crush me if I put it all out into the universe. Honestly, youâre the first person Iâve said she had cancer and now sheâs gone to outside of my immediate family. I try not to talk about her, at all.â She lifted a hand and brushed away a stray tear, the feelings too raw just then to avoid it. Looking back up at Connor, she said, âI canât do anything to make that situation better, and thatâs probably why I want to try to make things better for other people. I care about you, and I just want to see you seem like yourself again.â It surprised Connor that he was the first person Sofia confided in about this, and he felt a sudden spark of responsibility for the trust she placed in him--that and a profound sadness at seeing her upset. Hesitating for a moment, Connor reached out and placed his hand over hers in the same way sheâd done to him, only this was intentional; that had made him feel better, and he hoped it might bring Sofia some comfort too. âSometimes I worry that this is like myself, like this isâŚ.just how I am,â he said. âAnd...Iâm afraid if I talked to someone who really knew about this stuff, theyâd just confirm that...other people do, sometimes, in smaller ways, but their word would be, like, official.â Sofia did take comfort in the small gesture. It was nice knowing that she had people in her life who cared about her, too. She reached out and put her other hand on top of his and said, âWhatever official word they use, youâre still you. You have friends, like me, who care about you whether youâre like this, or something else. I may not be Rowena, or Ruby, but Iâm planning on having your back no matter what words people use to describe you, for what itâs worth. Even if this doesnât go away entirely, wouldnât it be worth it to not feel the entire weight of it?â Connor found her words equally comforting--it wasnât enough to really lift the dark mood that still hung over him like a weight, but it didnât hurt to be reminded of the fact that there were people who thought well of him--people who heâd been ignoring for the past few days, granted. Connor didnât understand what compelled him to overreact and forget things like that, but when he heard negative things that also aligned with how he felt about himself, Connor found the feeling hard to shake or reason through. âIâll think about it,â he promised. Connor wasnât ready to commit to making a leap like that, but he could at least think about it, and maybe talk to his friends and sisters about it eventually. Nodding, Sofia smiled. âThatâs a good step, I think,â she replied, âand all I can really ask for.â She turned her hand in his and gave it hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. âBut one non-negotiable thing is that you have to send me at least one thing you think is funny tomorrow. Iâve really missed your texts the past few days.â Connor smiled at that, more earnestly this time, âI think I can manage that,â he said. |