the book of fluff (that usually isn't)

sunny skies

i don't know if you've noticed but because i'm an idiot i accidentally deleted brave

i didn't really like it anyways so i'm not going to rewrite it

i'm so sorry it's been so long since i last updated, i would blame school but while i am quite busy i still have plenty of time to write so it's just laziness and lack of motivation

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trigger warning: panic attack and mentions of depression, self-harm, and attempted rape

Mitch quickly rushed into his home and dropped his purse and keys, already breathing quickly. He gripped at the counter to stop his hands from shaking and focused on slowing his breathing, but his chest was constricting and his throat was closing up and he felt like he was going to faint. He knew he wouldn't be able to calm himself, but he really didn't want to have a panic attack right then.

All he could think about was that man at the club. His friends had dragged him out since he'd cooped himself up in his house ever since Scott left. He hadn't wanted to go, but they forced him, and of course something happened. A man cornered him in the bathroom and almost raped him, but luckily he'd managed to get away. Now, he was about to have a panic attack, and his Scott wasn't there to calm him down.

Mitch missed Scott more than anything. He'd been at the rehabilitation center for only two months, but Mitch felt like he'd been there forever. He went every weekend to see him since he didn't work, but it wasn't enough. Not for Mitch.

He couldn't calm himself down; it only got worse. Tears blurred his vision and his hands shook violently as he fumbled for his keys, and he stumbled out the door once more.

"I need to see Scott. Please," Mitch sobbed as soon as he'd arrived at Sunny Skies Rehabilitation Center, practically collapsing against the receptionist's desk. The receptionist was different than usual. She peered up at him over her glasses, pursing her lips. "I'm sorry, sir. Visitation hours are over." Mitch whimpered and shook his head, trying frantically to breathe. "P-Please. Please. I n-need him," he choked out, trembling almost violently. The receptionist sighed and shook her head. "No. Sir, visitation hours are over. Mr. Grassi-Hoying is in his room getting ready for bed," she told him sternly. "Don't make me call security."

"I n-need him! P-Please!"

"What is going on here?" a voice demanded, but Mitch couldn't answer, as he'd dissolved into tears. The receptionist rolled her eyes and looked up at her boss. "This man wanted to see Scott Grassi-Hoying. I was just about to call security." The woman, who was the usual receptionist, furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, coming out from behind the desk and letting Mitch lean on her. "No. Page Scott's nurse," she demanded. The receptionist frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but her boss silenced her instantly and she had no choice but to obey.

When Kirstin got the page, she was a bit confused, but she knew not to question the boss. She got up and made her way back to Scott's room, occasionally passing nurses returning from giving their patients their nightly medicine to their quarters. She knocked on the door quietly, and it was a few moments before Scott opened it. He was dressed in the sweater of Mitch's that he'd brought and sweatpants, and he was playing with his wedding band like he always did when he was nervous. "Nurse Kirstin? What are you doing here? I already took my medicine," he said in his soft voice, but she offered him a gentle smile. "I know, honey. Miss Darla told me to bring you to the visitation area." Scott frowned slightly and subconsciously wrapped his arms around himself. "V-Visitation's over." Kirstin nodded. "Yes, it is, but she said it's a special circumstance. Come with me, sweetie." Scott wrapped his arms around his stomach, but he wordlessly followed her.