theodore watson {mars} (praelium) wrote in themoderngods, @ 2012-04-03 15:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, ♥ oliver roscort, ♥ theodore watson, ♦ mars |
WHO: Theo and Oliver
WHAT: Theo having a mental breakdown
WHEN: March 29 [After this]
WHERE: Oliver's apartment
The farther he had gotten from the woman, the pain began alleviate itself into something that was more bearable. It still had him clutching on his stomach and his hand shoved through his faintly sodden hair, though. It still had him breathing as if the oxygen had dissipated into carbon dioxide. It still had his knees buckling as if they couldn’t take his weight. It still had hostile and horrific images flicker through his mind. It still had a deep voice crying out with incessant rage within him. A voice that was not his. A voice that belonged to him. Except, Theo couldn’t name who had been bubbling beneath his flippant surface, and he couldn’t understand why he had been dormant until he went to New York.
Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he should have stayed in London and perhaps he wouldn’t be wedged in such a conundrum.
He staggered as he trekked down the sidewalk. He was honked at when trying to cross the street when five other cars were advancing towards him with dangerous speed. Theo jerked, but was too physically strained to do anything about it.
“You will let me out,” the voice bellowed—cold and fierce.
“No, no, no I won’t!” Theo cried out loud, smashing the side of his body into a brick wall. A mother draped her arm around her child’s shoulder, drawing her close to her body as they scampered passed this distraught young man. But the voice wouldn’t stop. It just kept on talking and screaming at him and demanding that Theo let him free. And at this point, Theo was screaming too, his voice angry and desperate. A cop approached him, his hand touching his back but Theo wrenched from the impending grip. Regardless of the sun beating down, it was still cold enough that people still necessitated boots and coats. But he was perspiring and with stark exasperation, he shoved off his jacket and his button down shirt so he was in merely a wife beater. Still not enough. So he ran as fast as he could, trying to get home.
But then he paused.
Adjacent, he discovered, was Oliver’s apartment. Without thinking twice about it, Theo plodded in that direction. Oliver buzzed him in with little question and Theo was up to his room in a second, door already opened. He invited himself in and combed a hand over his hair, breath labored. “Hey,” he managed, his voice low and husky. Though, he didn’t know what else to say.