Chapter Text
The coughing- the burning- the blood- it started about a week ago.
At first, nothing more than a tickle of the throat. An itch. Nothing that can't have been dismissed under the assumption of a sore throat, or some inhaled dust.
Except... It isn't sore, per se. It just.. tickles.
But a miniscule, insignificant itch grows to a scratching, like a perpetually trapped hair, or some other harmless irritant. Then... coughing, at all hours. Waking up at some ungodly hour-
(..and a healthy sleep schedule is essential for a helpful, happy and productive work ethic, as everyone knows. You don't want to be... unproductive, would you.?)
That’s before it starts drawing glances from strangers.
(There are no strangers here. That's what they always say- you wouldn't go against that, would you?)
Strange, suspicious looks. Not at the violent coughing- the material of your throat constricting on itself, the futile effort to clear it of whatever coils, and scuttles, threatening to constrict in on itself, and exile the traitorous habit of daring to breathe.
No- it’s that, if only for a moment..
Your smile falters.
(And your smile- your beautiful, horrific, smiles- that’s all you really have, isn’t it? Everyone says so. And you're a part of everyone. An important part- a cell, in the fabric of society's beating heart. Beating. Always beating. The blood is everywhere, and it's starting to soak into the floor. Gross.)
It’s visible, even behind their smiles.
Their gaping, joyous, horrible, beautiful smiles.
But nonetheless, the smile falters.
Smile. You can do it. Just- like so...
See- was that really so hard? Smiling is really no effort at all. Even a baby could do it! And you're not a baby, are you?
Oh- there it goes. You’re.. you’re frowning again. Quick- you still remember how to smile, don’t you?
Don’t you?
People are staring now.
The mask begins to slip.
Just an inch.
But it’s enough.