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It was easier to think in the dark, laying back in bed with only the flicker of a lit candle as a light source. Usually, that was a statement that held a positive connotation for Neffres, but this night was different. As the half-elf lay, staring at their ceiling, their mind wandered to a few days ago, when they’d spotted a group of peers they’d thought of as friends all enjoying themselves in the local tavern, the Jackalope’s Crown. The occurrence wasn't anything special or odd. Neffres had seen the group out and about with each other many times, but they’d never felt that pang of sadness before. And now here they lay, four days later, still thinking about it.
It wasn’t that they felt like they should have been invited to join. They’d never been invited before, and they never really asked to hang out themself, so it couldn’t be expected. It wouldn’t be fair for them to expect these peers to view them as a part of the group when they never went out of their way to be anything other than a standalone acquaintance. However, it still hurt, and they were starting to understand why. They were lonely. They craved that closeness they could clearly see between those seated inside the tavern, but they weren’t sure how to achieve it. Seventeen years old and they didn’t know how to make friends? It would be funny if they didn’t feel so pathetic acknowledging the fact.
They really did think they had friends. They’d gone out to parties, made small talk, listened to peers talk about their interests, offered support when it was needed, and generally been a friendly person (if a little awkward). It was just now, on a silent night in the middle of fall, that they were coming to realize they’d only ever listened. Sure they’d held conversations with others, but they never really talked about themself, their bonds had always been one way. Of course no one wanted to spend time getting to know someone who had years upon years to open up and simply did not. In the eyes of others, they were an outlet for expression, not someone engaging to talk to. The worst part was that they couldn’t be upset with anyone but themself.
Neffres had always found that leading a conversation was difficult. It was so much easier to hear what others had to say and respond in a supportive way, rather than guiding the conversation into a discussion about themself. They were never sure what was relevant enough to bring up and what they should hold back from mentioning, so they rarely ever shared anything. When others talked, Neffres listened, and, when the conversation faded, Neffres relaxed, never feeling pressured to speak and fill the silence. So here they were, sitting in silence alone, as they almost always were.
Usually, when they felt a twinge of loneliness, they would rationalize it away, reminding themself of their loving, supportive family and their relatively normal social life, and that would be it. Now though, having realized their social life was hollow, it was a more difficult thought to dismiss. Even within their family, they were starting to realize they’d begun closing themself off. They loved their parents and siblings, would do anything for any of them at the drop of a hat, and knew any of them would do the same. They were supported in any endeavor they wanted to pursue and loved unconditionally. Yet they couldn’t think of many times recently when they’d opened up emotionally to their family, never mind anyone else. Even worse, they couldn’t remember a time when they’d let themself feel strong emotions ( other than anxiety) before rationalizing them away.
Neffres took a shaky breath and sat up, cradling their head in their hands and whispering, “Fuck…” as they shivered. They so badly wanted to feel close to someone, to feel comfortable and happy , but they didn’t know how. They didn’t know how to open up and be real in the way they’d seen others be because they didn’t know how to properly feel their emotions. And by now they were probably too late. They’d never be able to learn. They’d never learn and they’d never feel happy. As everyone else around them continued to grow, they’d stay stuck behind the walls they didn’t even realize they were building. And now their breath was quickening and they’d begun to cry without even realizing it. As their mind raced, constantly reminding the half-elf that they’d always be alone, stuck in a void, their cries became muffled sobs as they curled in on themself, laying down on their side and shaking as they lost touch with the world around them.
For Miryn, it was just another night trying to learn some stupid spell that was way out of his wheelhouse. He’d been getting frustrated so he closed his book, picked up his candle, and snuck out of his room as quietly as possible. It wasn’t too late, likely around 11:30, but he didn’t want to wake any of the family that had already fallen asleep (which was usually most of them), so he crept downstairs as quietly as he could. Other than the occasional creak of the floorboards, the house was as quiet as it was dark, and he had to be careful making his way into the kitchen. He picked around the fruit bowl until he found an acceptable apple, then retraced his steps back towards his room.
He froze in the hallway on the way back, the silence of the night broken once again, though not by his footsteps or the settling of the house. As he stood before his sibling’s door, Miryn heard crying. Hesitant as he was to intrude, Miryn had never known Neffres as someone who cried. Beyond that, he’d hardly seen them get sad at all since before they were a teen. Anxious, sure, but not sad. He stepped in front of their door and gently knocked with the back of his apple-occupied hand. Worried though he may be, he didn’t want to walk in and catch them off-guard. He waited, then knocked again. Neffres’ cries hadn’t faltered once, so it didn’t seem like they were intentionally ignoring him or trying to get him to go away like he assumed they would’ve. They didn’t seem to hear his knocks at all.
He didn’t hesitate any longer to open the door and step in, concern spiking as the situation became clear. Neffres was laying in their bed, curled up, shaking, and sobbing to themself, completely unaware of his presence. He quickly shut the door behind him and rushed to their side, setting his candle and apple down at their bedside and reaching out for them before stopping himself. He’d seen others panic before, and he knew grabbing at them may not help, so he didn’t chance it. He sat down on the edge of their bed and took a deep breath to steady himself. Seeing his sibling who, though five years younger than him, appeared to have more control over their life than he did in such a fragile and detached state was unsettling, but, if he was going to help them, he needed to keep himself grounded too.
“Neff? Hey, try to focus on my voice, alright? It’s Miryn, I’m right here with you and I need you to try and think about where we are. Think about your bed, how the sheets feel, what your room looks like, how my voice sounds.” Neffres’ sobs quieted slightly and Miryn gently asked, “You here?” Neffres nodded, still shaking and sniffling as Miryn continued, “Can I hug you?” They quickly shook their head and he went on, “Alright. I can’t know exactly what’s on your mind, but I want you to know that I care about you a lot. You’re gonna be alright, but for now, it’s okay to feel like this, no matter the reason.”
“It’s stupid…” Neffres murmured, voice conveying all their exhaustion as they curled in on themself, tensing up in an attempt to control their shaking.
“It’s not stupid,” he assured, focusing on making himself sound as confident as he could, “Even little stressful things can build up and cause panic, that doesn’t make it stupid in any way. It’s okay to feel like this and even if you feel like this now, you’ll be okay,” he paused for a moment. ”Breathe with me, okay?” Miryn went silent and began breathing deeply, giving Neffres some time to process his words.
After a minute or two of quiet breathing, Neffres’ body seemed mostly relaxed. They unfurled and wiped their face as they took one last deep breath, then looked to their brother, “Sorry…”
Miryn shook his head, “You didn’t do a thing wrong. Can I hug you?” he asked again, very clearly desperate to give them one.
Neffres faintly smiled and nodded, “Yeah, fine.” Instantaneously, Miryn’s arms were wrapped securely around them, pulling them close to him as they tiredly chuckled.
“I mean it.” He reiterated, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m glad I heard you. It sucks ass to go through panic attacks alone, from what I know.” Neffres nodded quietly, simply hugging their brother back. Miryn pulled away from the hug, just far enough to see their face clearly, and asked, “Do you know what caused it?”
Neffres averted their eyes and nodded, “Yeah. Can we...not talk about it?”
“Totally, if you promise that you’ll come and talk to me if you ever want to.”
They sighed and faced him again, “Alright, fair. I promise.”
“Good. And Neff?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I’ll always be here for you, right?”
They chuckled, “Well, I haven’t been able to shake you for 17 years so yeah, I figured.”