Who: Dylan Hayes and Mac MacKenzie What: Tea and toast When: Saturday night/early Sunday morning Where: Dylan's apartment
The light was on in Dylan's apartment, and all he wanted more than anything else was (Hazel) was for it to go away. He was a sight to see, a thin, pale-faced wreck of a body, coiled tightly on his bed, the thin blanket pulled tightly over his head with clenched fists. His only aching comfort had been journals, communication with an outside world that might have some comfort for him - mortals, fuck, if it had only been mortals he might have been alright. If it had only been mortals all his life, then the cloying, curdling pain he felt in his stomach might not have been. Marijuana, Hazel, he couldn't bear it, could hardly convince himself to type the words but his manic fear had kept him going, some ancient, primordial drop of blood in his veins instinctively believed that the gods could somehow be convinced to be good to him and his and Dave had cheated. When he imagined the sight of Dave's skin being broken by the needle (Hazel), all he could do was shudder and moan and curl his fingers more tightly into his palms. It wasn't worth it, he muttered those words over and over again, pleading with his body to understand.
Brilliantly green leaves pressed into his peripheral vision against the yellowed light of the single bare bulb in the center of the apartment. Dylan's eyes slid shut for one terrifying moment and he was back in the center of the hated nightmares once more. He shoved himself into a sitting position at once and doubled over, hands clenched tightly over his stomach, his skin stinging. All he wanted was (Hazel) for the aches to stop. There was a steady pounding in his head and he told himself that if he could rise to his feet and get to the door, he could avoid the sound of Mac's knocking, and really (Hazel) that was all he needed. He lurched to his feet, stumbled forward to the door, and winced at the sound of the tumbler shifting out of place as he unlocked the door. He opened it just a crack and then fell backwards, his shoulder blades scraping against the wall as his legs failed him miserably. With a breath and a sob he ducked his head forward, pulling at his knees.