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Boxten jolts awake, sitting up quickly, a cry dying in his throat.
It was the same nightmare as every night, seeing those twisted mockery's of his friends, of the people he cares for, the people he loves. And all the other toons just seem to accept the fact that these things exist, some even treat it like a game to hide from them.
Maybe this is why Vee calls him emotional, why Shrimpo calls him weak, why the other toons look at him with exhaustion on thier faces when he spirals in worry, but he can't help it. He has to care too much.
Boxten tries to take a deep breath in, to try to stop the racing of his heart, to try to pretend that he's fine. Because he is fine, and he doesn't need to have anyone else worry.
Boxten feels the key on the back of head start to wind up.
No.
He wills it to stop. He doesn't want to wake the other toons, especially the one sleeping soundly beside him; Glisten.
But his efforts are in vain as his music box starts to play a tune. If he can even call it that; the notes are frantic, panicked, and erratic. With no seeming pattern or tune at all.
But Boxten can barely hear the music over the beating of his heart in his ears and the frantic rhythm of his breathing. Normally his nightmares aren't this bad, with only a few leading to results like this; but it doesn't happen often enough for him to know how to get it to stop.
Glisten shifts, feeling the absence of Boxten beside him. He reaches out for Boxten but Boxten flinches away from Glisten's touch. Boxten doesn't want Glisten to have to see him like this, doesn't want to be a burden to Glisten.
Glisten sits up, hearing Boxten's heavy breathing, hearing his erratic music, sensing that something is wrong, "Boxy?"
Upon hearing no response, Glisten leans over to the lamp, quickly pulling the chain to turn it on. He turns back to Boxten, finally seeing it.
Finally seeing the panic, seeing the unshed tears in his eyes, seeing the way the key on the back of head is spinning too fast, seeing the way his hands grip the comforter like a lifeline.
It breaks Glisten's heart.
"Oh, Boxten, my darling," he reaches out to cup his lover's face but Boxten flinches away, a look of guilt in his eyes. Glisten withdraws his hand, not with malice, not angry that Boxten flinched away.
Glisten looks back at Boxten hating how familiar Boxten's panic is, how Glisten sees himself in the wide eyes staring at him.
Then it hits Glisten.
"You're having a panic attack," not a question, just a statement; a fact.
Boxten opens his mouth to deny it, to tell Glisten he's fine, but the words get stuck in his throat. He hates how Glisten looks at him with concern and worry in his eyes. He feels guilty that he is the cause for such distress.
Glisten wracks his brain on how to help, on what he does when he himself is having a panic attack. Breathing; he needs to get Boxten to calm his breathing, then hopefully the rest of him will start to calm down a bit too.
"Can I touch you?" Glisten studies Boxten's face for any sign of hesitation.
A nod, quick and jerky but a nod, nonetheless.
Glisten slowly reaches for Boxten's hands; giving him an out, giving him a chance to pull away. Boxten doesn't pull away though. He just lets Glisten hold his hands, tracing circles on the palms of his hands.
It's grounding, strangely enough. It gives him something to focus on, other than his panic.
"We're going to try to take some deep breaths, okay?" Glisten looks up at him, not stopping the gentle circles.
Another nod. This time Glisten nods back.
Glisten takes a deep breath in, waiting for Boxten to follow suit but Boxten's breath hitches and he can't.
"That's alright, darling," Glisten smiles at him. "Just try to breathe."
Boxten tries again, willing his breathing to go back to normal, to stop Glisten from worrying. He manages a small breath in and out.
"Just like that," Glisten matches his breathing. "You're doing great, love."
In and out.
Boxten almost laughs with how easy it should be, how in this moment something so easy becomes almost foreign.
Glisten watches as Boxten seems to almost relax, how his breathing adopts a somewhat normal rhythm, how his music has changed into a lullaby-like tune. It makes Glisten strangely proud of Boxten for getting through it, even if it was hard.
But, it also makes him wonder. Has this happened before? Has Boxten sat awake, all senses clogged with panic, not wanting to wake Glisten up? His heart breaks slightly at that.
Glisten reaches out to cup Boxten's face in his hands, this time Boxten lets him. He hesitantly melts into the touch, still feeling the aftershocks of his panic attack.
"I'm sorry."
Glisten startles slightly at Boxten's words, then he feels sad at the idea of Boxten feeling the need to apologize after just needing help. Boxten seems to know Glisten's train of thought because he looks away; ashamed.
Glisten tilts Boxten's head, so he's look at Glisten, "There is no need for apologizes, dear."
"But-"
Glisten silences him with a kiss, not wanting his lover to say anything more. He doesn't want to hear Boxten talk down upon himself. Boxten stiffens, surprised, but he quickly melts into the kiss.
Glisten pulls back, seeing the blush on Boxten's face. It makes him smile.
Boxten cups Glisten's face, his thumb brushes over Glisten's cheek. Glisten knows this moment isn't him but he still basks in the affection, melting into the soft touch. Boxten's music changes to a almost contented melody as they both sit there.
Boxten brushes his thumb just under Glisten's lip, as if wiping something off. Then he pulls his hand away, traces of Glisten's make up on his hand. He holds up the make up stained hand, a small smile on his face, "I've smudged your make up."
Glisten shrugs, a smile growing on his face, "It was smudged to start with." It wasn't but Glisten knows it doesn't matter. Glisten knows that in this moment Boxten is all that matters.
"I love you,Boxten," it slips out. Glisten meant to say it but he didn't mean to say it now.
Boxten hesitates, "I love you too, Glisten."