Daybreak | IC Inbox.

[awooligan]

CLIFFORD NORMAN
UN: REDRIDINGHOODIE

STATUS: grade 11

ACCOLADES: n/a.

BIO: name's cliff. let me know if you'll buy cigarettes and shit for me, we can work something out.

© TESSISAMESS

Comments

[kept_his_letters]

[She tries to pretend she doesn't see that look of disgust. She doesn't succeed in hiding the flinch.

She has half a mind to leave anyway, hurry out and maybe hole up in the common room. It's the end that makes her pause.]

Is something going on...?

[awooligan]

[He's ruining this. He was so damn lucky to find a friend -- a friend like her -- and now he's throwing it all away. Worse, he's hurting her, or scaring her, or both. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Cliff squeezes his eyes shut and runs one of his hands through his hair. Maybe it'll be soothing to his goddamn dog brain.]

...Yeah.

[No sense in saying otherwise, even if he doesn't want to get into it. The closest he'd gotten was telling her there was something wrong with him, and she'd shot that down without giving it a second thought. He wonders if she'd agree now, with him acting like this. He's not awake or optimistic enough to even mention a "it's not you, it's me" joke. He picks up the mug again, giving himself something to do on top of making talking a little more tolerable.]

But that doesn't matter -- it doesn't make it okay to talk to you like this. I know that, okay?

[He also doesn't like what he's doing!!!! He hates it, actually. It makes him feel like his stepdad's had more of an influence on him than he'd like, and he covers his mouth with a grimace as a roll of nausea follows that thought.]

[kept_his_letters]

I suppose.

[She doesn't know what else to say. Except--]

But... it kind of matters. Is there anyone helping you? It's no good if you're doing this all on your own.

[awooligan]

[He pauses, then, because it makes him feel even worse that she's even thinking about that still. He wants to tell her that it isn't her problem, but thankfully the split second between that thought and swallowing his tea he realizes that it would probably come out sounding more like "it's none of your business". This tea could also use more sugar, hm. He narrows his eyes at it instead.]

I'm -- [He isn't fine.] I'll be fine. I'm handling it, I just...had a bit too much to drink last night, I guess. [He'll have to both start and stop earlier, to avoid this happening again.]

[kept_his_letters]

Cliff...

[He's apologized. She knows it's... probably not her. But she can't help remain uneasy with all of this. She hugs her own cup of tea close.]

I don't want to sound like those... really stiff people who say you can't have fun and stuff. But... I don't think it's just that you drank too much last night.

[He's been drinking a lot in general. That worries her.]

You're not back home. You're here now. That's kind of what this place is about. So, whatever's going on, there's got to be someone who's dealing with it. If it is that kind of thing. And if it's a normal bad problem, then there's definitely someone dealing with it. You don't have to deal with things alone. It doesn't have to be so hard.

[awooligan]

[He's quiet, pinning down the urge to defend himself, run away, or (for the love of god??) start crying. Because this morning needed to get even worse! Obviously!! Fuck classes, honestly, just let him crawl in a hole and die.]

No one can fix what's wrong with me, Coco. Not back in Podunk and not here, and if it's not going to do anything, I really don't want to tell people.

[kept_his_letters]

I didn't say fixing. I said making things easier.

[There was a big difference. And it did matter.]

How do you even know it's something wrong?

[awooligan]

[Is it really worth trying to make it easier to deal with, when he still has to go through it? That's what the problem is. That's always been what his unfixable problems are. The fewer people that had to know, the less it would be a big deal.

Her question would have made him scoff out a laugh, but it triggers a brief cough fix instead and he has to press against his temple again to stop the throbbing buzz he gets as a special bonus.]

Because of the way you looked at me? Or how you would look at me, if you weren't so good at hiding it?

[kept_his_letters]

[The way she looked? For a moment she wants to laugh, though it's not funny at all.]

I'm worried, Cliff. I'm worried for you. About you. And everything you say makes me more worried because you're keeping whatever it is going and I can't do anything about it.

Even if I couldn't help at all, not knowing makes it worse. At least if I knew-- or knew someone else was helping-- then I wouldn't be wondering.

Besides, a moment ago I thought maybe it was me you were afraid of.

[awooligan]

[The mug trembles a little in his hand, so even with how hot it still is, he hurries to down the advil and set it aside again. His legs come up so he can rest his cheek on his knee and stare off to the side at nothing.]

I'm being such an asshole. You should be pissed, or going back to Tobias's because you can't stand me anymore. I don't know why you'd ever want to be my friend, after this.

[So what if she was what he was afraid of, now? He can't say as much directly, or he'd lose the last shred of dignity he had this morning and he really couldn't stand that, but fuck, man. He doesn't want to lose her, as much as he deserves it.]

[kept_his_letters]

[That time, she does laugh, quiet and joyless.]

I'm not very good at only feeling the things I'm supposed to. I thought you knew that.

[awooligan]

[He doesn't like this laugh nearly as much as the others he's gotten to hear from her. He's the worst.]

I don't know why you're so nice to me. I keep screwing up, and we barely know each other.

[But she was, for some reason.]

I'll... [Curled up as tightly in on himself as he is, he can't really take that deep a breath to calm his wired nerves. His whole being is screaming at him to stop, and even if it's silent screaming, it's much too loud for him to deal with right now.] I'll, uh. Try. To maybe talk to someone.

[kept_his_letters]

[She shrugs.]

You know a lot about me. You've done a lot. You've been kind. And I know just because someone's angry, it doesn't mean they're bad. There's usually a reason.

I hope it works out. I really do.

[awooligan]

[Cliff shudders a little, praying for his shit to calm the fuck down, but this was all -- a lot. He doesn't really know how to handle it. What else is new?]

Fuck. I'm gonna skip today, I think. My head is killing me. [It's not at all because he's worried that his emotions ramping up over the course of the day means that in addition to snapping at people, he's going to randomly burst into tears, which would be mortifying. At least if he stayed here, he could go out for a run whenever he needed to.]

[kept_his_letters]

[She smiles faintly.]

Probably a good idea. And you need water.

[awooligan]

[Good god, he needs water.]

Sorry.

[It...just felt like he had to apologize. For needing water. For the implication that she was going to be the one getting it, because she was too good to be around someone like him, and he was stupidly useless from getting stupid drunk last night. Well, too bad, he's not gonna let her, because he needs to get up anyway.]

Uh. This needs more sugar. [Vicious sweet tooth. Besides, he can get his own water then, and not burden her with that on top of all her worry. He pushes himself unsteadily to his feet, cursing under his breath at the new wave of pain hitting him, then picks up his mug while swiping his hand across his eyes just in case. The stinging in them could have been anything. Also holy fuck does he need to pee. Stupid drinking!!!

He pauses when he reaches the door, much to his bladder's dismay. Calm the fuck down, bladder, there was a bathroom off the common area, he's going...] Um. Do you, uh. What's the plan on your end?

[He doesn't want to be alone, but he also doesn't want to hurt her feelings again.]

[kept_his_letters]

[She doesn't know what exactly the apology is for. Her answer is the same either way.]

It's alright, Cliff.

[She settles in with her tea but pauses drinking ot to answer him.]

The same as every day. Though probably a nap at some point so Mamá doesn't ask why I look tired and get suspicious. So, really, no plans.

[awooligan]

[He gives a small nod, though even just that much kind of hurts and adds to his frustration, and continues out to take care of his short list of dumb immediate tasks. Cliff returns in a few minutes with his mug of tea sweetened to an unhealthy degree in one hand and a glass of water in the other. No sense of urgency, his mood has gone back to a slouchy, agitated teen. Don't like that. Trying to pacify it, he crawls back into bed and focuses on quietly nursing his tea. Once it's done, he realizes that maybe when his brain was being so overstimulated by everything already, dumping a bunch of sugar into his system maybe wasn't actually the greatest of ideas? Oops, too late now.]

I would fight a man for some bacon. [Comfort food. He's not sure how much he means what he says, but he knows it's more than he's comfortable with. There's a touch of impatience in his voice getting more obvious by the minute, now that he's sounding less like a thirsty, groggy mess of a man. He still feels shitty with every movement, but he's determined to do things for himself so as to bother a Coco as little as possible.] Do you want anything? Unless you...want... [To come with? Avoid being around him? Which sounds less like he's trying to coerce her into something, like some manipulative dick.] Look, I don't want to make you feel like you have to do anything because I'm being stupid as hell, so just say whatever's on your mind, got it?

[kept_his_letters]

[The suddenness of the statement throws her and makes her laugh. She looks away immediately, guilty and not wanting to set him off again.

And then he's really surprising her.]

Oh. Um. Okay.

[Stupid. Stupid.]

I mean, I didn't think you were making me do anything. So, that's not a thing you've got to worry about. I... would you... want to be alone...?

[Nailed it.]

[awooligan]

[Oof, he doesn't like that and frowns -- not the laugh, the laugh is nice to hear after he'd upset her, but the way she expects him to not like it... Just another reason to be annoyed with himself. Having the question turned back around on him just makes his grimace worse.

No. Of course he doesn't want to be alone. That's why he'd been doing this, so he wouldn't be some horrible monster no one wanted, so they abandoned him. But...]

I don't want to be a jerk to you. [Also he smells kinda bad... Greasy meat first, but shower was getting moved up the list he's making up as he goes.]

[kept_his_letters]

So...

[She frowns.]

I don't know if that's a yes or a no.

[And her uncertainty is making this into some big stupid thing.]

I'll come with you. Then you don't have to worry about bringing me anything.

[awooligan]

[He doesn't know either!!! But he doesn't have to argue with himself over it because she makes a sensible choice and he nods a little before looking down at his feet. At least he hadn't slept in his shoes, even though he'd passed out before thinking to change into sleepwear... Food, shower, clean clothes. He shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and his feet in his green and orange shoes as he leads the way out.

What do you say to a girl that you flipped out on but was being kind to you anyway, and who was obviously concerned about your drinking but you were going to go ahead and drink more later because then at least it was just the mornings that were bad?]

...We haven’t really just hung out lately, huh? I’ve got this thing I’m dealing with right now, but after... We should, uh, do something.

[kept_his_letters]

[She smiles faintly. She wants to ask what the thing he's dealing with is. (She really, really wants to ask.) But he said he'd talk to someone and she wants to be the friend he can trust. They'll hang out later. And it won't revolve around her problems for once.]

That sounds good. I'd like that.

[awooligan]

[It's a good thing she didn't ask, because even if he felt bad about it, he wouldn't have told her -- she doesn't have to worry about it. It isn't her problem, and he doesn't want it to be. She had too many already.

This is why when October 1st rolls around, he doesn't tell her that he won't be coming home. The idea, if he gave more than a passing thought to it, would have sent his heart into a painful race, so instead he doesn't think about sharing his burden, same as he's always done. Cliff checks himself into the isolation room, keeps the wolf contained and away from anyone he might hurt, and finally, blissfully falls into an unaided sleep. Well into the next day, when the moon has risen yet again, he manages to wake up enough to drag himself back to his dorm, looking for all intents and purposes like the drunk, tired teen he'd been returning as recently. For the first time, he's thankful to be on the first floor so he doesn't have to make any effort beyond turning the doorknob.]

[kept_his_letters]

[The turning of the doorknob in the night has her sitting bolt upright in the bed. She starts at the door, watching as it opens, feeling like she's just lost the chance to be the final girl in the horror movie and is stuck with victim number three.

But the door opens up and there stumbles victim number two.]

Cliff!

[His name is a near-sob of relief. She rushes forward, arms opening like she's going to hug him and only stopping at the last minute. Her hands waver mid-air, then pull close, and then hug to her chest.]

You're okay...! Where were you?