Won't Go Slowly

Part 7

You wished you could say that you got your emotions together, but it just wasn't happening. You seemed to cry whenever something made you smile, so you felt like you constantly had tears running down your face. You supposed this was better than being irrationally irritable, but it was still annoying, because it felt like you had absolutely no control over your body. Eventually, you gave up trying to control it, and just accepted that this was just the way it was going to be for now.

It didn't help that you felt like a goddamn pincushion, between the injections and the blood tests. You felt bloated, emotional, and kind of crazy.

Tyler had seemed to make it a priority to ensure he was around to give you your shot every night, whether it was at his place or yours. Even though you made it quite clear that he didn't have to, you really did appreciate it. Not to mention, you lived about 5 minutes apart, so it was just so much more convienent.

Eventually, though, it got to be just a little too much, to the point where he'd set a timer on his phone to let him know it was time. One particular night, near the end of your cycle, had gently pulled you away from where you were talking with Andrea outside, leading you up the stairs, but you'd hung back, leaving him to pull on your arm. "C'mon, it's time for your shot."

And you knew he was expecting you to walk right into through his bedroom and into the bathroom, to jump right up onto that counter and hike up your dress and just sit there, while he rummaged through your purse for alcohol wipes, and medication, and gauze.

Instead you'd just straight up exploded. "Fuck, Tyler, I know it's time for my goddamn injection. I don't need you to fucking remind me," you yelled, your voice sounding raspy like it wasn't capable of screaming as loud as you wanted to, "I did this for six days before I even asked for your help, and somehow I managed to survive."

You knew, even before you stopped yelling that he was only trying to help, of course. That your reaction was completely uncharacteristic. And yet, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming. Or from recognizing that those first few milliseconds of screaming felt so good, even though that shitty feeling caught up to you by the end.

And then you looked up at Tyler, who was frozen a couple of steps above you, and he look so absolutely crushed that you immediately started crying. It wasn't the welling in the back of your throat, a few years sliding down your cheek crying that you'd been doing all week, either. This was full-on, face smushed up, snot running out of your nose, can't even breath properly, ugly crying.

"Fuck," you heard Tyler mumble.

"I didn't -" You started, but you couldn't even finish your thought, though you weren't sure if your sentence was broken off with a sob or because your face was pressed against Tyler's chest, his arms wrapped around around your head. His go-to reaction for whenever you'd started crying around him this past week was to simultaneously laugh and pull you in for a hug. But, this time, he wasn't laughing.

You felt him exhale against your ear, his hand dropping to rub up and down and down your upper back, his other hand just holding steady. "I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry," you choked out. And you felt terrible, you really did, because not only had you just screamed at him like that, but now he was the one stepping in to comfort you, and you were leaving snot and tears all over the front of his shirt.

"It's okay," he said, his hands going to your shoulders to push you back so he could look at you. You were certain you looked like an absolute mess, and you knew you were crying so hard that your eyes would be puffy for hours, evident of the way you'd fallen apart. "Sometimes, when emotions are high, people react in different ways."