Archive of Our Own

Phainon is fine! He's okay! Excellent even!

Is what he would have said 5 minutes ago.

Phainon was aware that he had been low before even getting on the bus to get home from campus. Having been running around fulfilling various different requests from people. He knew he should have immediately taken his glucose tablets as soon as he had gotten on and taken a seat, but of course he had dismissed himself.

It isn't really his fault though, okay?

He really did feel fine and he had already taken some glucose tablets just a few minutes prior. Taking too many would risk him getting high and it's annoying to try to correct it. But with the warm and sunny weather lately, he should have known better. Yet, he never learns.

Walking from the bus stop to his apartment would only take a minute or so at maximum. Taking his glucose tablets and to risk getting thirsty because of how dry they were, isn't Phainon's most favorable thing. He took some anyway just in case.

The option for eating ice cream sounded way better. He plans on taking one when he gets inside, which will hopefully help stave off the heat for a moment and help raise his blood sugar too. A win-win situation if you ask Phainon, he gets to enjoy himself while simultaneously helping as well.

He'll be fine, he says, nothing can go wrong, he continues.

Wrong. Incorrect. Loud incorrect buzzer.

Phainon is gonna faint at the bottom of the staircase, the dream of eating the ice cream becoming dimmer the longer he stands there.

Because of course, the one day he actually wants to take the elevator, it is out of service. Phainon stares at the out of service sign, then to the stairs and back to the sign.

What sort of rotten luck does he have?

He usually takes the stairs, even if he's lugging heavy groceries with him or hauling their laundry basket to and from the laundry room.

Exercise is good for your body, Phainon. Take the stairs!

Holy shit, can he slap himself from continuously saying that? It's like the gods are trying to work against his favor.

Going back to stare at the ascending stairs with rapidly worsening vision, he felt way too hot. Everything was too bright and too dark at the same time. He had already noticed this earlier back on the bus, but it was definitely getting harder to concentrate and focus the more it became obvious what was happening.

Clenching and unclenching his hands to try to withhold the numbing sensation in them, his eyes closed. Instantaneously he felt tired, the stairs a growing temptation to sit and rest upon. Which is a dangerous thought.

He can feel his consciousness slipping between his fingers, just the slightest step of trying to indulge himself of the sweet temptation and he would be out cold. Or maybe hot, did he already mention that he was sweating buckets?

Alright, Phainon. Take a breath. You may currently feel like dying and hitting the ground, but the ice cream is waiting.

He isn't sure if that's really important right now, though. He may accidentally slip and miss one of the stairs, or lose his footing and get a damn concussion instead. No amount of ice cream can save him from that hospital bill.

Should he just call Mydei? He should still be at home from morning when Phainon left, only early afternoon currently. Mydei would with no doubt and hesitation help him if he called, making it clear multiple times that he doesn't mind being disturbed. If anything, he had basically requested him to do so. Still, the thought made him furrow his brows.

Isn't that quite unnecessary? Phainon is literally just a few steps of stairs away from their door. Calling and bothering Mydei when he's already so close feels wrong.

He can do it on his own. Or rather, he will make it on his own. He can be an ill, sweaty mess after he's inside of the apartment and then bother Mydei.

He'll make it, no problem.

In theory, it sounds like a good idea. In retrospect, it makes him want to slap himself again.

Stopping after a few steps of his ascending, his hands gripped the stair railing with such force it wouldn't surprise him if his knuckles were white. He feels so unwell, alarmingly swaying trying not to fall over.

He cannot think properly with his body heavy as if it weighs a hundred tons and tongue feeling like lead. He's also so fucking warm, has he mentioned that?

Fuck.

His mind swims with dizziness when he takes another breath.

He can't stop now. For if he does, the chances of him keeling over in the middle of the stairwell before reaching their door, seems quite plausible. Which is embarrassing, should you know. Not that he's speaking from experience or anything. Not at all.

Well, it's no matter! He's currently facing a rather unfavorable situation, such contemplation is unwanted at this moment. It's not needed.

Slowly and weakly, he attempted pulling himself up the stairs with the help of the railing, heavy steps echoing in the stairwell. The racing heartbeat thundering in his chest made everything feel worse.

Phainon bit his tongue to focus on the task at hand. Mydei and his ice cream may still be waiting, but surviving this to get to their apartment, and maybe faint, is more important.

Passing by a stairwell window, he briefly stilled. Because holy shit, why did it look like an overexposure filter was applied? He's never experienced anything like that before, even when he's been dangerously low before in the past.

Is he seriously about to faint?

No, no, he's not! Probably. The world may be a tad few bits brighter than unusual, but that isn't gonna stop him. If he closes his eyes, it doesn't exist. Kaching, problem solved.

He totally did not close them because the view was hurting his eyes and going darker the longer he stared. Totally not. What're you thinking?

After staring a few seconds more, he begrudgingly dragged his feet to the stairs once more.

With his heart beating out of his chest, sweat rapidly building in places he doesn't wanna discuss and fatigue weighting him down, he whined. Fuck, why did he always dress with so many layers. Is this the gods' retribution for his fashion sense? Or is this just his own attempt at taking himself down?

Ahem actually, don't comment on that, Phainon.

If anything, in the worst case scenario, maybe it'll cushion his fall if he faints. Or not, since he isn't gonna faint! But he'll be grateful if it does somewhat cushion it, bruises on his face would look bad. Not including the major concussion he may get. Which he won't get by the way, since he won't be fainting!

Phainon is unsure whether to be grateful or not that there's no one nearby to see him like this. Their friendly neighborhood Spiderman… sorry, wrong universe. I mean, their friendly neighborhood Deliverer, fighting for his life because of some stairs?

Phainon isn't the type to go out flaunting that he's disabled to everyone and everything. He doesn't hide it though. If someone asks, he will honestly answer them. But if they don't, then he has got no reason to tell them. He doesn't mind people knowing, as long as they don't start coddling and bothering him about it constantly.

Which he's afraid of people doing, stopping him from helping them once they knew. It brings a sour taste to his numb mouth.

After thinking about it, yeah, he would rather not let someone see him. Even if stairs are some serious business, because what the hell, why is it seriously so damn hard to concentrate?

The only person that he would allow to see him right now is Mydei. Mydei who is always so attentive and consoling, making sure Phainon is taking care of himself. Mydei who doesn't ask questions, letting his actions speak instead. And Mydei, who doesn't hesitate to be by his side when Phainon needs him.

Okay… he's clearly not in the right state of mind if he's talking about Mydei like he's some sort of forbidden lover, and Phainon the sick maiden. And sure, he may be sick, chronically ill even, but he's no maiden.

Phainon exhaled.

Can he seriously slap himself? Because he's just being ridiculous at this point thinking of these things.

Before he knew it, he was standing right in front of their apartment door. He doesn't remember reaching it, legs having become numb. Vision and mind mixing too much together, yet the apartment number glared clearly at him, 550. That's this destination, for sure. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and find a moment of peace.

The sensation of floating made him unaware if he's even stood upright anymore, feeling like he's in a completely different world. But he must be when he leans forward to place his hands flat upon the door rather heavily, a tingling sensation spreading in his arms at the sudden movement.

Phainon lets his head hang helplessly between his arms, trying to gather his bearings. He's so warm and sweaty it's becoming unbearable. He feels so nauseous, dizzy, everything, making it hard to think of anything other than, to eat sugar, eat sugar, eat sugar.

Sugar. Sugar. Ice cream.

His ice cream, that's right. He was supposed to eat some ice cream. Phainon grits his teeth, he sure fucking hopes that it'll help. Feeling this miserable is one of the worst things ever.

He wishes Mydei were here.

If he could open the door telepathically, he would have already done it. Attempting to move and find wherever he put the keys on his body would be the last straw. Currently wobbling on the edge between consciousness and laying half dead on the ground.

In front of their apartment door, as well. Phainon did not want that, not because of himself, it's that it would look bad on Mydei's part. He doesn't want people blaming Mydei for something he inflicted on himself. He would rather avoid it all if possible.

He weakly shook his head, inhaling shakily. He wants to take a shower and lay down so badly, he's so warm, sweaty and tired, and just anything that is possible at this point. Mind swimming as he tries to resist crying.

He just wants to eat his ice cream in peace and have Mydei by his side. Doesn't even matter what he does anymore, Phainon just wants him there and this over with.

He is beginning to regret not listening to his body properly. Perhaps he will truly start taking himself more seriously and consider his health better after this.

That's an empty promise, because he knows that he won't. No matter how many times he tells himself and tries to, he just can't break into the habit of actually taking care of himself properly. He manages himself just for it to be enough, but never caring.

He hates it so much. He absolutely hates it.

To hell if he deserves it or not, he wants this to be over.

Suddenly, the click of a lock was unlocked, the door slowly opening beneath his hands. Phainon did not register it until he had wearily withdrawn them, taking half a step back.

From beyond the door Mydei peeked through, eyes widening before narrowing. Most likely not expecting to see Phainon, especially in whatever state he appeared to be in.

Maybe he wasn't that far gone if he could tell that?

Mydei continued opening the door. “Deliverer?” Phainon did not move, blinking rapidly trying to decipher Mydei's expression. “Did you-”

Ah, no, he's definitely gone.

Before Phainon knew it, he began slumping forward. Knees buckling as Mydei dexterously caught him.

Phainon sank limplessly into his arms, head coming to lay on his chest. Phainon couldn't pay attention to the voice speaking to him, chest beneath him rumbling deeply. It was as if everything that had been keeping him standing suddenly got cut.

He's lucid enough to be aware of the door digging into his back at one point, legs sprawled out in the entryway. Phainon feels his vision swim beneath his eyelids, keeping them shut. As a result, he'd been unable to see what type of expression Mydei wore before he got dragged inside.

Had he been smiling? Frowning? Grimacing? Maybe even laughing?

God, Phainon hoped that he was laughing, because he too would laugh at himself. Laugh at his own misery and incapability of fixing his problems, even after all of these years since he became disabled.

If he had been laughing, at least Phainon could agree. Looking so pathetic and flimsy, trying to keep himself teetered to reality. That's way better than being faced with concern and worry, he can't dismiss it as easily. Especially with Mydei. Mydei doesn't dismiss and disregard things as easily as Phainon does.

A warm hand gently encasing his cheek brought him out of his stupor. Phainon would have appreciated the touch any other day, but today was not that day. Already feeling warm and sweaty, he weakly leaned away from the hand, tongue too numb to make any noise of protest.

“Phainon.”

Phainon didn't acknowledge him, head tilting back to thud against the door.

Why couldn't his blood sugar just fix itself? He's tired of constantly having to correct and fret about it, a deep fatigue having settled into his bones over a prolonged time. He is the one to blame, though. Considering that he's the one who ignored and made himself like that, despite knowing better.

It feels so weird. It's as if he is consistently trying to prove his own worth by making himself experience hypoglycemia and then take care of it by himself. But who is it that he's really trying to impress, him or other people? Perhaps no one in particular.

Phainon grimaced. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to so badly, if only he wasn't feeling so severely ill and disoriented in his current state.

“Can you hear me?”

Loud and clear. Though Phainon is unsure if he made any indication that he did, his mind is not functioning properly because of the thick brain fog.

He felt so insanely unwell he hoped for it to be over already. It really doesn't matter how anymore, he just wanted it to be gone. Experiencing this is always awful, even after a hundredth time. It's a wonder how he hasn't been admitted to the hospital for hypoglycemia after he got diagnosed. It almost makes him feel offended.

If he can't solve this by sleeping, he'll just knock himself out. But that's what he's trying not to achieve. Sleeping it off won't solve anything, and neither will knocking himself out be of any use.

He's low, he knows that, he knows, he knows. He's starting to get frustrated and barely anything has happened to warrant it.

Fuck, he really wanted to eat that ice cream. If he doesn't have any strength in his limbs to get up, he'll just force himself.

Phainon's unsure how much time had passed, gazing at Mydei through half lidded eyes, not registering anything, vision too blurry and unfocused. Phainon wasn't sure what Mydei looked like when he began wrestling his jacket off and attempted to stand, still wearing a hoodie and shirt. With legs bending and hands planted against the floor to help anchor his weight, he started getting up.

“Hey, don't get up. Stay down.”

Phainon weakly fought back against Mydei trying to coax him back down, but Phainon is a man on a mission. He managed to get to his feet leaning against the door, vision darkening for a few seconds before returning. Mydei had stood up as well, holding onto his arm, grip kind but unrelenting.

Phainon wanted to shrug him off, to tell him not to touch him. His natural body heat and touch too much for him currently, creating a buzz under his skin.

One problem after another.

Clenching his jaw, he sluggishly made his way forward. Mydei didn't stop him this time, following shortly behind.

Phainon stumbled into the kitchen, shoes still on. Grabbing the handle to the freezer, he zeroed onto his target and grabbed the wrapped ice cream.

Closing the door, he stepped back to peer at Mydei, his eyebrows furrowed. Mydei's grip hadn't faltered in the slightest, staying quiet when seeing the ice cream.

Phainon wanted to tease Mydei with it, the remark at the tip of his tongue. It quickly died as soon as it had formed. Phainon wound up only blinking at him, already making his way towards their living room. The sudden brightness from the windows of the afternoon sun made him squint.

Mydei only let go when Phainon threw himself on the sofa with a huff, shaky hands already unraveling the wrapper when he laid on his side. Phainon kept his shoe clad feet to the side of the sofa, hanging in the air.

He may be mentally gone, but he still has his manners. Even if he's about to eat an ice cream laying down on the same said sofa.

Priorities, priorities, to be damned with them.

Mydei watched him, standing just by the edge of their coffee table. He appeared calm and unbothered, the image only shattering when you could see how his eyes stayed put on Phainon, analyzing every movement and contemplating.

Phainon paid no attention to him, zoning out with his gaze blurringly stuck on an antique vase standing on the table. His mind is full of sludge, not cooperating the way Phainon wants it to. He could do nothing other than wait for it to get better on its own.

The cold sensation from the ice cream made him shut his eyes in satisfaction. The sweat still sticking to his clothes and warm skin uncomfortably.

He really should have removed his hoodie earlier as well, the overheating sensation still present. The hoodie heavily encased him, almost making him feel worse the longer he was thinking of it.

Phainon splayed out in an attempt to cool down faster, the ice cream now gone, only the wrapper left in its wake, crunching in his shaking hand. He had wished for it to last longer, what a pity.

The unexpected touch of chilly hands moving around the exposed skin of his ankles, where his pants had ridden up, made him twitch. Looking down to see Mydei kneeling, one hand grasping his foot.

“Stay still for a moment.”

Phainon listened, no energy left to retort, his shoes being removed and placed away. The cuff of his pants were folded up to mid calf, the air hitting his skin relieving. His socks followed shortly after, Phainon rolling his ankle in contentment, the freeing movement nice. Thinking that the process was over and glancing aside, his foot pulled away automatically when something colder than Mydei's hands pressed against it.

His attention was brought back to Mydei holding a red box of juice against one of his ankles. Most likely a pomegranate one, they had a whole stock of them in their fridge. On several occasions, Mydei has insisted Phainon take one if he is low, him usually staying clear of them since he knew Mydei liked them. Phainon assumes it's because they're small, making it easy to carry whenever he goes out. And if he has caught Mydei putting one too many of them in his bag every time they go out together, Phainon has ignored it. Quickly waving the thought that said Mydei did it for him away.

“Are you feeling okay?” Mydei asked, gently messaging one of his exposed legs. Phainon let out a breath, sticking out his other foot, the numbing sensation in them slowly ebbing away.

Mydei didn't seem to mind that Phainon wasn't verbally responding, catching onto what he wanted by actions alone. Letting the cold juice box press against his other ankle, until Phainon wriggled his foot away a moment later when pleased.

“Are you able to sit up so I can take off your hoodie?”

Phainon didn't wanna sit up, he still felt disoriented. But the thought of getting out of the growing uncomfortable hoodie made Phainon compose himself. After a few seconds, he held out the ice cream wrapper, Mydei quickly understood and took it.

He wearily began pushing himself up to his elbows, Mydei getting closer to help him if Phainon needed it. Finally sitting up, Phainon kept his legs curled on the sofa, still dizzy. He slowly began removing the hoodie, treading his arms through the holes. Mydei assisted to hold the hem as Phainon worked, placing the garment on the table when done.

Phainon deeply exhaled from the alleviating heat, adjusting his shirt. Gaze wandering over to the once closed balcony door now being opened, a light breeze coming through.

Hm, that was nice. Mydei must have opened it when he wasn't paying attention.

Before he managed to lay back down, Phainon stayed quiet when Mydei held out the juice box to him, already opened and ready to be drunk from.

Mydei sure worked efficiently didn't he?

Phainon shakily took it with both hands, sipping on the straw. The fresh taste made him blink in appreciation, enjoying the feeling. He sensed that he was gradually getting better, thoughts coming more easily now and the warmth decreasing.

The weight of Mydei's hand placing itself on his knee wasn't particularly uncomfortable, nor did he like it with the buzzing still present, but he let it be. The weight made him unable to drift off and instead focus, slowly coming back to himself.

Finishing the juice sooner than desired, he at last got to lay back down, feeling tired. Mydei was already on the move, helping Phainon get comfy. Once comfortable, Mydei laid a blanket over him, stopping at his hips. Phainon not being cold enough yet to warrant it. The empty juice box was placed on the table beside the wrapper.

All of the instances of Phainon bringing up about him getting cold and freezing after experiencing a more extreme case of hypoglycemia, had seemed to worm its way into Mydei's brain.

The thought of Mydei taking that into heart and actually executing it, made his stomach tighten uneasily. Making him want to shrink, hide, anything.

“Don't think unnecessary things right now,” Mydei commented, still kneeling. “Are you still feeling unwell? Want me to bring something else?”

Phainon met Mydei's steadfast gaze, ready to stand and bring whatever Phainon desired or demanded. “No, it's okay,” he rasped softly, feeling the incoming shivers.

Mydei went still for a moment, assessing him, before nodding and moving to get up, taking Phainon's clothes and trash with him. Phainon watched him walk away, bringing the blanket up to hide his face, the underlying uneasiness since earlier starting to make its presence known.

It should be illegal how fast he can go from sweating his ass off to literally freezing. It's a whiplash he'll most likely never get used to, and hopefully he won't, easily one of the worst feelings ever.

He'll never like it, no matter if he may be the one who inflicted it upon himself. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter anyway. He'll still be there tomorrow and do the same thing.

He moved underneath the blanket, curling into himself, tiredness washing over him. Mydei came back quickly, settling down on the unoccupied space of the sofa by Phainon's feet. Hand coming to rest on his covered legs, an eye twitching at the move.

Time passed between without any words uttered, and it was killing Phainon the longer it dragged on.

Why haven't Mydei already told him off for coming home stumbling and close to fainting, without even giving him a heads up? Phainon didn't understand. Most people would have already begun berating him for how he isn't supposed to act like that.

But Mydei isn't like most people.

He's supposed to be the crowd's golden boy, and their deliverer. Not this crippled of a mess that he is. Crumbling under the slightest occasion of setbacks.

His diabetes isn't even that bad, he's always been praised for keeping his glucose levels steady and managing it excellently. There's people out there experiencing way worse.

Believing that he needs help after receiving compliments after compliments for years, has made a somewhat irreversible expectation flourish in Phainon.

The expectation of being normal follows Phainon wherever he goes. He can't show any weakness, not even for a second. If he does, then he isn't good anymore. Weariness always builds up when he's alone in public and needs to attend to his needs, as if he needs to hide it.

Mydei has told him off before, well, perhaps not told him off, that's a little extreme. He has reprimanded and scolded him. Okay, also perhaps not the right words, it makes him feel like a child.

Mydei has reminded him before. That's right.

He's reminded Phainon before that he doesn't need to follow any rules or expectations from people if it means that it hinders him. He's his own person and putting on a facade for other people has made Mydei glare at him more times than he can count.

Even with his gruff words and demeanor, Mydei never goes beyond that. He may have gotten upset at Phainon some days for various other reasons, but he never does anything more.

It almost makes Phainon feel bad for himself. He knows Mydei won't and never will act out of pure emotions, keeping himself rational.

Sometimes, Phainon wished that he didn't. Being angry isn't something a person can easily fake. Meanwhile, a smile and kindness can have many motives. At least, when faced with anger Phainon knows how to feel.

Phainon tentatively glanced over the blanket to Mydei, who seemed to be lost in thought, a gentle rise and fall of his chest. He stared a few seconds more before burrowing back into the pillow beneath his head. The searing touch of Mydei's hand remained on his leg.

The unease, or rather the guilt, wrapped around his body like vines. Because seriously, what is he thinking? It's unfair to Mydei how he's projecting his own emotions onto him.

Phainon knows deep down that he actually doesn't want Mydei to be angry with him. He never has. It's his own anger he wants to be faced with.

Being angry at himself feels like a justification to do things wrong, as if he's being punished and deserving of it. And it feels good, because he would never wish this upon someone else other than himself.

Pushing his feelings to Mydei is wrong, he's fully aware of that. But if he's angry, then that equals the rights for Phainon to be angry as well. Except, he doesn't want Mydei to be upset or unsettled in any kind of way. And pushing Mydei's feelings onto himself is wrong as well.

Guilt and shame washes over him at once, blending into anger that twisted tighter into his being.

Phainon watched over the room, silence still engulfing them both. It was awkward, for Phainon at least. He hoped that Mydei didn't feel the same. It would be embarrassing if he did, because he had done nothing wrong. Phainon had been the one making mistakes ever since he came inside the apartment.

Fighting off Mydei at the door when he just wanted to help. Ignoring him, even if Phainon couldn't really help it, running on instincts and needs alone. And worst of all, laying on their sofa with his shoes still on and eating an ice cream. It isn't that bad, but isn't that technically an unspoken rule not to do, right? Right...?

Phainon brought a hand to cover his eyes. Damage control who? Call Phainon instead.

Phainon wanted to sleep, a heavy weight of fatigue wearing him down. His body seeking to take a rest after having a rather close experience with meeting either death or the hospital bed.

He ignored the urge, guilt still festering in his stomach, making him feel wide awake. It would certainly not leave until he had appropriately addressed it.

And what's an appropriate way to address it you ask? Apologizing, of course.

Phainon let the silence pass for a few more seconds before bracing himself, his once numb tongue cooperating properly. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, the sound muffled by the pillow, waiting in anticipation.

He hadn't expected Mydei to reply immediately, yet no response came the longer he waited, only a soft hum.

Did he need to speak louder? Didn't he hear him? Which Phainon doesn't blame him for if he didn't, the sound barely audible even to him.

Taking a second to steel himself once more, he repeated louder. “I'm sorry.”

Again, no response.

Had Mydei fallen asleep? Which is a dumb question, since Phainon knows he hadn't. Mydei's hand shifting down Phainon's leg, closer to his ankle, the warmth seeping through the blanket.

Is he being ignored? No, he certainly has no reason for ignoring Phainon does he? Unless Mydei is actually a mind reader and has been able to hear Phainon spiraling all this time, deciding that he's not worth his attention anymore.

This isn't a fantasy world, get your shit together.

Phainon moved to his elbows once more, staring accusingly at Mydei. “I said I'm sorry,” he spoke out more harsher than intended.

“What for?” Mydei finally replied, undeterred by the tone despite looking rather startled, turning to him.

For being an asshole. For being unworthy. For wasting your time. For being like this.

“For being so,” Phainon faltered, holding eye contact. “I mean, it's just that… sorry,” he frowned, nails digging into the palm of his clenched hands.

He was apologizing for letting his guilt build into anger and making a mess, wasn't he? So why couldn't he just say it? It felt like such a minor inconvenience when he's confronted with it. Is it really worth apologizing over if Mydei didn't seem bothered? Or is he just pretending and actually waiting for the pin to drop? Or is it him that is the problem?

Phainon bit his lip, twisting his head away from Mydei's watchful eyes, unable to stand watching them.

“I don't want your apologies if you don't know what you're apologizing for,” Mydei claimed, sitting more upright.

Phainon stayed silent, letting the words soak in. Because he seriously doesn't know what he is apologizing over anymore. The brain fog from earlier felt like it hadn't dissipated at all, still hard to formulate a proper thought. He probably should have checked his glucose levels by now, but he made no move to do so.

Phainon is tired. So, so damn tired. And it's not only from his hypoglycemia episode.

It's been built up from himself and others over time. Seeking confirmation and validation from people just to make him feel good. Even if running around and helping them tears him into the ground, just to reach their expectations of being helpful while being disabled.

It's not that he needs to help every pleading request thrown his way, he can just never bring himself to reject it. It's more like he wants to accept them, as if he's trying to call out to people, I'm still useful even if I am like this, please don't push me away.

It's quite ill-fated, honestly. More so as it's pathetic. Seeking to prove to people of someone that he isn't, only a facade of who he truly is. Though, Phainon isn't sure what can even be classified as himself anymore. Years upon years of hiding just so he can be shaped to others standards have made Phainon lose his conception.

Phainon moved his legs, the hand of Mydei still placed upon them. He shifted at the touch, feeling the restless buzz under his skin intensify the longer the touch lingered.

He tried ignoring it, yet it didn't relent one bit. The simmering anger slowly grew at that. He needed to calm down. Both for himself and Mydei, being angry won't solve anything.

He took a deep breath, easing his lip free from the relentless gnawing. It's now or never.

“Please stop touching me,” Phainon said so softly it borderlined to be pitiful. Mydei made no fuss or big show about it, removing his hand from Phainon in understanding.

Phainon felt instant relief at the absent touch, reaching out to smoothen the blanket and get rid of the remaining touch. The worst of the buzz dissipating.

Mydei watched him with his arms now crossed, but Phainon didn't dare to look back at him. He eventually finished his smoothening when satisfied, going to lay down.

“I'm sorry,” he began once more, wasting no time, gaze stuck on his hands fidgeting. "And uhm, thank you. I am truly grateful for your help, really, but… I just cannot relax knowing you're helping me.”

Phainon heard the clothes of Mydei rustle. He half expected for Mydei to intervene, yet when he didn't, Phainon continued.

“It just feels unnecessary when I know I am capable of doing it myself, like I am taking advantage of you when I know that I am not. I don't like it, feeling like that. But if anything, I'm probably taking advantage of myself and pushing the limits I'm allowed. Ah, well, what I am trying to say is thank you and sorry, despite having no obligation to, you still helped.”

Phainon draped the blanket over him to hide yet again, afraid of how Mydei will react. Phainon doesn't know if he has any more strength within him to face another emotional fiasco that day. And Mydei would immediately be able to tell, somehow having the ability to always read him. Whether for the greater good or not, he cannot answer.

Or was Phainon just an easy person to read, in general? It currently doesn't matter.

Mydei hummed deeply in thought.

“What if I allowed you?”

Huh?

“If you can't allow yourself to ‘take advantage’, why not let me do it instead. I'll take advantage of my limitations until you'll become sick of it and plead your case.”

What the hell.

Phainon mulled the words over and over in his brain, all until it started to hurt.

“Or would you rather that I push you away when you're clearly hurting?”

Alright, jeez, hitting right where it hurts, doesn't he?

“I wouldn't do it, no matter if I was granted permission or not,” Mydei declared, making Phainon squirm at the firm and honest words.

“You make it sound like I can't take care of myself,” he grumbled, thinking back to everything that happened earlier, wincing at the memory. As much as it pains Phainon to admit, he is sometimes really self destructive, by not listening to his bodily needs and acting as if it's fine. Okay, maybe he's a little too self destructive, able to recall similar instances of this occurring.

It isn't fine, and it never has been. One day or another, he will actually suffer so badly from ignoring himself it'll cause irreversible damage to his body. But he just can't bring himself to care enough about it at the moment. If he hasn't suffered yet, it'll eventually be alright, won't it?

For fucks sake, who is he kidding. He honestly just doesn't have any energy left to take care of himself some days. The burning shame of acknowledging that he needs assistance outburns the desire to tell someone of his body breaking down.

Why are you letting others worry about you? You're their golden boy!

It's only a facade, and Phainon can't stop living and shaping himself to it as if it were real. He doesn't if he ever will.

“I know that you can,” Mydei stated, Phainon stilling. “it just isn't fair for you alone to face the world and decide what's good for you, when you have people caring for you.”

Is he seriously a mind reader? Phainon shudders at the idea.

“Turning into a poet?” he teased, finally daring to carefully peek at Mydei.

Mydei huffed, his crossed arms adjusting, tattoos shifting over muscle. “If it means getting the words into your brain, then yes.”

Phainon didn't reply, the implication of his words settling deep into his gut. “Whatever,” he settled for, feeling strangely speechless, gently kicking Mydei's thigh with his foot. It earned him a glare, no real heat behind it.

“You're feeling better,” Mydei commented under his breath, as if Phainon wasn't meant to hear it. A hard thing to achieve when they're beside each other and Phainon being hyper aware of everything at the moment.

Maybe he really should rebrand as their friendly neighborhood Spiderman instead.

He's so sweet though, Mydei, Phainon may get diabetes. Oh wait, he already has it, and that's a stereotypical assumption. Don't ever say that.

Phainon snuggled back into the pillow letting out an exhale, every last bit of adrenaline leaving his body. The tiredness from earlier made its appearance again, quickly starting to bring him to sleep.

It would be nice to fall asleep like this, all comfortable with Mydei by his side. Except, it totally would be if he couldn't hear Mydei grunt under his breath.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I'm trying to unlock your phone.”

Since when did he have that?

“Woah, invasion of privacy, much?”

“Haikas, I'm trying to check your blood sugar.”

“And you think that would be achievable by trying to break into my phone?” Phainon sighed, arm slinkering out from the blanket to hold it towards Mydei. “Give me it.”

Receiving the phone he muttered, seeing that Mydei had tried to unlock it too many times for the thirty countdown to be activated. After waiting for the seconds to go down, he quickly unlocked it, handing it back to Mydei.

Sometimes he wondered who really had the brains between them. Probably both of them, even if one of them is putting on an act and pretending not to. But Phainon liked it that way, a genuine smile forming.

“Don't tempt me to,” Mydei answered unapologetically, easily able to locate his glucose meter app.

“Oh? I would love to see you try, you'll fail I bet.”

“I've never yielded a challenge before. Prepare to be faced with defeat, Deliverer.”

“As if,” Phainon scoffed, giving another kick. “I'm going to sleep,” he declared, not waiting for any reply, turning over to get comfortable under the blanket.

He may not get better immediately, steadily allowing himself to not only be better for the people around him but him too, is a good start. He may not be fine, or even excellent, not ever knowing if he ever will be. It's a part of life however and Phainon is just gonna have to let himself experience it to know.

“I'll wake you up later if you aren't already awake,” Mydei stood up, placing the phone on the table within reach. “You're just within range, I'll get you another juice if you want one when waking, if you're still feeling unwell.”

“Yes, yes,” Phainon waved a dismissive hand above his shoulder. “Get going now.”

Mydei hmphed. “You're insufferable.”

“It's my pleasure,” he sleepily grinned, Mydei unable to see it but with no doubt able to hear it in his words.