POTS ~ The struggle of standing

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Eliot's pov: (and sometimes his mother's)

"How did the party go?" Eliot's mother asked, on the drive home.

The brunette tried controlling his breathing as best he could. It was hard. His eyes were closed and his breaths were deep.

When Juno and him had waited for his mother to come and get them, Eliot had had to use Juno for support. Juno and him had been doing some breathing exercises for the remaining time waiting. It was a lot. His heart felt like it was still learning to breathe. (I know this doesn't necessarily make sense. But I feel like it does.) That little alcohol he had drunk, made his head spin, quite similar to when he felt dizzy.

"I think it went well." Eliot answered, in quite a monotone voice. He had tried to sound convincing. That wasn't the case.

His mother looked at him through the rearview mirror, waiting for her son to tell her the truth, but he never did. (Just me here praising my own writing, but I really like this sentence. Hehe..)

She had only found out that there was something wrong with her Eliot, when he once fainted in front of him. Afterwards she was told that it was far from the first time that had happened. Not from Eliot, but from a doctor. Eliot had told the doctor about it, but never her. She didn't feel like her son trusted her. For that, she felt inadequate. But maybe he was just being a teenager. She missed him tho.

"Did you have fun? That's the most important part, Eliot. Do remember that."

"Okay. It was quite different. But I think I liked it. But I don't really want to do that so much. It was draining, mom."

"It's good you're taking care of yourself. I'm glad you had fun."

Eliot saw a smile on his mother's face. Juno was not awake. Not really. He stroked Eliots hand. Juno's hand were cold.

"Shall I help Juno inside?" His mother asked.

Did she not think I could help my own friend? No, of course she didn't. He were just her week little son, who needed help with the smallest of things. He couldn't even help Juno when he needed it. He didn't answer. Just gave a nod and brushed Juno's hair off his face with his free hand. The other hand were holding his.

The lights were on, and except for the lack of people, it looked like a perfectly normal home. And maybe it was.  When Juno had been helped inside. And he finally got to the bed, he was out like a light. His mother had come with two glasses of water and a bucket, if they were to need it. Eliot drank his glass in one go, and his mother when to fill it up again.

"Good night." She said after giving him a hug. Call if you need anything. She smiled. Then she left.

The window was ajar. The air felt comfortingly fresh and his arms felt cold. He took the duvet over himself as he laid down. He had changed to something more comforting. Juno were still in the same clothes.

"Good night, Juno." He whispered. And his closed his eyes.

(Sorry for like abandoning you all... I haven't felt like or had the mental capacity to write further on this till now. So sorry about that.
Fun fact: a lot of people gets little tics sometimes. But lately I have gotten a lot (in my opinion) of tics. It happens when there's loud noises or lights or when there's a lot of people. I don't like people.
My neck hurts from jerking my head. It's a bother tbh. But it's not like bad or anything, I hope. But at the same time, there's this voice in the back of my mind saying, 'what if you are faking it?' Because I don't want to do that to the people who suffers a lot from this disease. And a lot of people have it much worse. May you have a good day, dear reader.)