[emporio!]

its the worst hug youve ever recieved.

youll admit you dont recieve hugs often, due to the natural state of your existence. youre okay with that. physical contact makes you twitchy. the one youre wrapped up in now makes you feel no different but you still dont move to pry yourself away, even though you would really, really prefer to. its angled wrong. lopsided. both of his arms are wrapped around your torso while your arms hang loose and unsure beside him. hes swaying on his feet, slouched, his breathing shallow; youre pretty sure youre the only thing keeping him from sliding all the way to the floor. its terrible.

"juice. you need to pull it together." your voice is firm and falls to hostility by default. "what are you even doing right now? at least stand up straight." he doesnt even acknowledge you. you can only tell hes listening because his hands tighten in the pink fabric of your shirt. "im serious. are you going to start crying again or something?" the lack of reaction makes you uneasy. you spend most of your life in some variation of uneasy.

"i dont know. probably," he replies. his tone is off, but he doesnt sound any more upset than usual. like you, he spends most of his life in some variation of uneasy distress. "i dont- i dont want to do this right now. please just let me have this. just one time." he sways to one side and you tighten one arm against him on instinct to keep him upright. "we're. hm." he pauses. leans a little more weight against you. "we're still the same thing. i know youre- youre mean, or whatever. thats your thing. and you dont like me, thats fine, i usually dont care. but we cant get rid of eachother, and we always-" he makes a frustrated sound. "arent you just tired?"

you two are the same. of course youre tired. to be yourself is to spend most of your waking hours wishing to be asleep. to have it pointed out to you is viscerally uncomfortable, like looking in the mirror and truly noticing the bags beneath your eyes for the first time. you find yourself tensing under a sudden onslaught of white-hot anger; how dare he dump this emotional slurry over your shoulders with no warning? why are you still- why are you still indulging him in this? you two arent friends. you two dont hug. you dont "talk it out." you, quite literally, werent built for emotional vulnerability. you prefer not to think about it.

god, youre tired. you cant imagine how exhausted he is.

"...alright. sure. one time." eventually, your other arm makes its way around him. its a terrible hug. neither of you have had much practice, so you really just end up pinning his arms down with your own. the sound he makes in response is so grateful it makes you embarassed on his behalf. in a brief show of kindness, you decide not to comment on it.

you two stand there, hugging like losers, for a good five minutes. you hate it. you wish none of this ever happened. you wish juice never did any of whatever this was. youre thrumming with a quiet irritation, itching to shove him away, but you dont. you lead him to the couch when he starts falling asleep against you and he goes without any fuss; the irritation inside you twists into something nauseating and cold when you turn to leave him there, so you sit down at the far edge of the couch in an attempt to not have to deal with it. you turn on the tv, volume low. its showing a program about exotic plants.

you fall asleep.

[eyesemote]

"you two are the same. of course youre tired. to be yourself is to spend most of your waking hours wishing to be asleep. to have it pointed out to you is viscerally uncomfortable, like looking in the mirror and truly noticing the bags beneath your eyes for the first time."

BRO THIS LINE

[risotto]

it's always a perfect day when you drop more writing. I love this so so much. your backgrounds are always so cool + the emotions tm I feel reading your stuff is always aUGH incredible work as always thank you for sharing

[LittleMaple]

every day that i read writing as brilliant and touching as this is a day well existed