What am I doing with my life?
Feb. 14th, 2022 04:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rage_rekker101 Ways to say I love you 54. "No one has ever made me feel like this."
Rekker was holed up in the room he shared with Bjorn while the singer was out practicing and probably drinking by this point in the day. However, the Brit was reeling from his brother’s words a few days ago on the beach. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and he hated the holiday, the same way he hated most holidays. Though, he imagined Bjorn was exactly the opposite and would probably be throwing heart confetti about the room, or something, soon enough.
He was drinking, albeit slowly, while trying to think. He’d pull the box out and then cram it back into his vest pocket only to pull it out a few minutes later. Nothing seemed to be calming him down and his mind kept spiraling on the fact that Bjorn deserved better and probably didn’t even want this. Not that he could do anything meaningful anyway. He threw the empty rocks glass across the room and started drinking directly from the bottle.
Everything was shit. The situation, the world, and his life. The desire to simply walk away and disappear off the face of the Earth was feeling good in the moment. However, he felt chained to the singer. Not chained in a bad way like a prisoner but the feeling was still there. Rekker shoved his hair out of his face to stare at the door. He wanted to see the singer step in and desperately wanted him to stay away. Do it anyway, his brother’s words kept running around and around in his head, even when he got up and started pacing the small hotel room. It wasn’t exactly small, but the caged animal feeling brought on by Rekker’s anxiety caused his perception of it to shrink down.
Grabbing the half empty bottle of whiskey, he headed for the door. Maybe getting away would help, some fresh air. His hand was about to touch the knob when the giggling came from the other side. Rekker instantly panicked as he recognized Bjorn’s giggling. He was going to walk in any moment. The guitarist went sheet white with panic as he took a couple steps back from the door. His heart was racing so fast it felt painful in his chest. He realized this was a full out panic attack and drunk he couldn’t take any medication for it. As his hands went cold, he dropped the bottle and spun around wondering if he could hide which was obviously ridiculous.
He'd never had anyone make him feel like this. The happiness crashing headlong into a caged animal level of anxiety that almost left the ginger feeling faint. That would be his luck, Bjorn walk through the door, and he immediately faints. Turning back toward the door he ran his hands through his hair, terror rising because Bjorn was surely about to come through the door, and he wasn’t ready.
Rekker was holed up in the room he shared with Bjorn while the singer was out practicing and probably drinking by this point in the day. However, the Brit was reeling from his brother’s words a few days ago on the beach. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and he hated the holiday, the same way he hated most holidays. Though, he imagined Bjorn was exactly the opposite and would probably be throwing heart confetti about the room, or something, soon enough.
He was drinking, albeit slowly, while trying to think. He’d pull the box out and then cram it back into his vest pocket only to pull it out a few minutes later. Nothing seemed to be calming him down and his mind kept spiraling on the fact that Bjorn deserved better and probably didn’t even want this. Not that he could do anything meaningful anyway. He threw the empty rocks glass across the room and started drinking directly from the bottle.
Everything was shit. The situation, the world, and his life. The desire to simply walk away and disappear off the face of the Earth was feeling good in the moment. However, he felt chained to the singer. Not chained in a bad way like a prisoner but the feeling was still there. Rekker shoved his hair out of his face to stare at the door. He wanted to see the singer step in and desperately wanted him to stay away. Do it anyway, his brother’s words kept running around and around in his head, even when he got up and started pacing the small hotel room. It wasn’t exactly small, but the caged animal feeling brought on by Rekker’s anxiety caused his perception of it to shrink down.
Grabbing the half empty bottle of whiskey, he headed for the door. Maybe getting away would help, some fresh air. His hand was about to touch the knob when the giggling came from the other side. Rekker instantly panicked as he recognized Bjorn’s giggling. He was going to walk in any moment. The guitarist went sheet white with panic as he took a couple steps back from the door. His heart was racing so fast it felt painful in his chest. He realized this was a full out panic attack and drunk he couldn’t take any medication for it. As his hands went cold, he dropped the bottle and spun around wondering if he could hide which was obviously ridiculous.
He'd never had anyone make him feel like this. The happiness crashing headlong into a caged animal level of anxiety that almost left the ginger feeling faint. That would be his luck, Bjorn walk through the door, and he immediately faints. Turning back toward the door he ran his hands through his hair, terror rising because Bjorn was surely about to come through the door, and he wasn’t ready.
