Oneshot Book Ft. My OCS {Open for Requests}

Anxiety {Oliver}

He wasn't sure what time it was. Maybe around 9:50? Didn't matter, she wasn't sure.

Oliver had been in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Everything was fine at the moment. He planned on staying up till about 12:00AM, maybe? Depended on long she wanted and could stay up.

As Oliver was brushing his teeth, he starting hearing shouting, something about a tablet, or something. It was his father, and his mother, or rather his father's wife-what did it matter?- was trying to calm him down.

Despite knowing the reason why his father was angry, Oliver still felt the pit in his stomach. It made him feel rushed, so as quickly as he could, Oliver finished brushing his teeth, not too many moments after hearing the loudest shout yet, and a door slam. Hard.

Why was he feeling anxious? It wasn't his fault at all, nor was Oliver even involved. But still, he felt the impulse that something was wrong, and paced back and forth, biting his lip.

Any argument gave Olivedt the slightest bit of anxiety. He didn't remember getting from tv shows or anything like that though. But things like his mother and father, his friends. Witnessing something like that scared him. Why? He wasn't sure.

Oliver let his mind guide him, and sat on the couch, grabbing his minion. He fiddled with it, desperately trying to calm himself down. Each minute just increased his anxiety more.

He got up and started pacing, still fiddling with the minion plush. Oliver felt the pit increase, the questions starting to fill his mind. The questions later on that he later just shrugged at.

Is he mad at me too?

What in the world happened?

Did I do something wrong?

What did me or mother do to make him mad?

Is my tablet being taken away too? If so, why?

What's wrong?

Why is he mad?

Oliver didn't shake, neither did he feel the pit ease. He wasn't having a panic attack or anything of the sort. Or at least not that he was aware of. His heart may have quickened, but only slightly.

He knew he wasn't going to be hit or anything, but why? Why was he anxious?

He didn't have anxiety, right? No, Oliver couldn't have! But how else could he explain it? No other way.

Oliver eventually knew what caused the anger and went to bed, staying up as planned. Maybe a bit of nervousness was left, but he was fine.

Though the thought of having anxiety still haunted his mind, though not as much as the "fight".