Work Text:
Isak! Answer my texts, why aren’t you answering my texts? I need to talk to you, I need to explain, I need you to answer me! Please, please, please. I’m falling apart. You are everything I care about, you are the man of my life. Isak. I love you.
The thoughts were racing through his head, like cars on a highway, except this highway was clearly under construction, yet the cars didn’t slow. His skin was itching, something crawling beneath it and he wanted to dig his nails in as deep as they would go to make it stop, but he couldn’t. Because outside his room was Sonja, talking to his parents about god knows what, and they wouldn’t let him stop the itching, or the cars, anytime soon. They just wanted to restrict him, keep him locked up and not let him be free.
“This is a fucking prison!” he yelled out inside his head, wanting them to hear him, but afraid he might make things worse.
Isak. How could I leave you all alone? I never meant to scare you, I never meant to lie. I just wanted you to see me for who I am, not just as a disorder. Not as a mentally ill person like your mom. I am more than that, I just wanted you to get to know the real me, please understand.
Where is he? The man who was just like me? I heard he was hiding somewhere I can’t see. Where is he?
The sky outside his window was almost completely, and utterly black, the stars looking like holes in the atmosphere, so that some light could seep through. On the other side of the door, the voices had quieted down. He hadn’t heard anyone for at least an hour. Or was it two? However, they weren’t discussing anymore. Maybe they’d gone to bed? Maybe they’d gone out? Even didn’t care, not for Sonja, not for his parents, not even for himself. The only thing ruling his mind right now was Isak, who didn’t answer his texts, or calls, or anything. Isak, who probably didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Isak, whom he’d left in a hotel room in the middle of the night.
It’s so intense, I’m on my Lilo and Stitch. Pour some Pino Grigio with some lime, what is this? An immaculate version of me and my baby, with all respect, ‘cause you’re the only one that gets me.
Isak? Are you even there? Will you ever hear me out, or have I fucked this forever? I’m so sorry, truly, I am. But that’s not going to get you back, that’s just a useless apology on a screen. There’s no emotion in autocorrected sentences, there’s no sincerity in a text that took me a minute to write. If you could only see my face, Isak. If only I could show you my pain, and my grief, and my remorse. If only you would let me.
He couldn’t tell the time anymore, even glancing at the clock on the wall, or his phone, he couldn’t be sure if he was seeing correctly or if he was simply imagining. Even though the sun had risen outside, he found it hard to believe it was a new day already. Did yesterday even happen? Everything seemed strange, different, out of place. Had he been sleeping? Was Isak sleeping? Where did the time go anyway? He couldn’t keep track of his own mind, the thoughts dancing inside his head, constantly moving and determined not to stop. His skin was still itching, too, and it took him a lot of restraint to ignore it.
Everything’s good, everything’s fine. Yeah, pour a little cherry wine. Life is good, life is good, yeah. Life is good, no matter what.
Sounds from the kitchen told him his parents were awake again, silent voices and conversations being held, but Even had no interest in hearing what was being said. Because a second ago, his phone beeped. The sound of a message reaching it filled his room for a brief moment, and he grabbed it with shaking hands.
Life is good, life is good.
“Hey Even. I don’t understand anything right now. Stop texting me.”
Life is good, yeah.
No matter what.
Life is good.