Healing pt2

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Tw: pill abuse, cancer, toxic behavior

A breath escapes my lungs and my eyes tunnel vision onto his face

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A breath escapes my lungs and my eyes tunnel vision onto his face. I carefully inspect the snake of spotted freckles across his cheek and nose, the fair olive skin tone, the tiny beauty marks on his upper lip, the playfully messy hair and his calm green eyes. It's actually Timotheé in front of me! No Y/n this is just your head playing games with you. He sighs and continues to scribble down on the paper.

"Hey Tim?" I softly ask.

He looks up and lets out a mhm.

"Are you just a trip right now or is it actually you?" I ask while my heart races to a million.

He sets his pencil down and chuckles quietly. His whole vibe is calm and settling, which helps the somewhat shock I have right now. I know this isn't real, but I just hope he's real and he didn't kill himself and that he is happy.

"Y/n...you seeing me here right now means that either way...- it's not even a chance." He spills brutally honest.

I lean over clenching to the side of the chair for dear life. I look down at my feet and sob, shaking my head. Why didn't he tell me? I would've took time out from my busy schedule for him in a heartbeat. I'd much rather spend every second helping him sort how he felt, than him downing  fucking pi-.

"Y/n." He sharply snaps and I look at him feeling a mixture of anger and sadness.

I take a few blinks to clear my vision but when I finally can see, Timotheé's smirk is replaced with a stone cold face. He doesn't have a right to be mad, he could have avoided this!

"Why the fuck are you mad? you got what you wanted right?." I jeer and I can tell my words hurt.

He shakes his head and looks away saying a small "that's not fair." . I scoff and I wipe my tears off my face soon to be replaced by new. I've been trying for dear god, to do what I'm supposed to do without him and he doesn't even get that I'm slowly healing. I've tried to smoke away pain and tried to numb myself as much. I try to be the bigger person and help his mom, to remind myself I don't have it the worst. I've been passing my time and try to forget to what I've been exposed to.

"I didn't get what I wanted or needed just so you know...I'm by myself stuck with the same pain till I'm ready to open up-but the catch is I'll have nothing around me when I do...it's the slowest healing process." He nods to himself.

That's the afterlife, just blank there by yourself? Like being in a black hole with just you and your inner demons...

"...you could've talked to me about it." I sob. "I thought I would've been able to see my dad again." He forwardly says.

I get out of the chair and lay on his shoulder. He thought that would've resolved anything? He would be happy if that happened yeah, but the issues would be there. The chat that we're having now would've been the same with them.

"You know your problems would still be there and you dad wouldn't want to see you dead." I say truthfully.

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at his hands.

Timotheé pov

Dad decided to not do chemo, he didn't want to ruin gods will or some bullshit like that

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Dad decided to not do chemo, he didn't want to ruin gods will or some bullshit like that. Imagine being underneath the same roof where your old man is slowly dying, your mom stressed with bills and your sister working herself to death and trying to make it into her dream college and here was me...popping all his pills in the bathroom. I was the best fit to take care of dad because mom had to take extra shifts at the hospital, so I'd make his healthy meals, took him to the bathroom for his movements and hygiene, gave him his medication and watch reruns of baseball games next to his frail body.  Till he fell asleep on his chair that when I go off to the bathroom for a fix.

My world was destroyed and I didn't have time for therapy or whatever the fuck steps I needed to take, I had a responsibility to make sure Dad was going to pull through or else his death would be on me. So taking something temporary was best for me because my responsibility had consumed me.

Disconnecting myself from the world kept me up, till I needed it every single day. Dad started running low because of me so I started to buy the medication from a plug. Dad took a turn for the better that summer and I felt proud and I was clean for two weeks. It doesn't sound like much but it sure as hell felt like it. We started to go on vacations like beaches, resorts, lakes and camping.

When we went camping with Y/n.... I learned him and mom were faking it. I was about to get more blankets in the car for Y/n....Mom was helping him change and his frail legs...arms and ribs, I still can't get it out my head. He weakly looked over at me and pure disappointment to himself spread in his eyes. He knew his days were counting and I felt hurt, anger because I thought he was getting better. I thought I was going to have my Dad back, but I guess he wanted to give us a normal life temporarily. I wish I never walked by their tent because I know that was the the one thing he wanted to give us.

Sis didn't seem to notice neither did Y/n, but the whole time I knew. After that trip I relapsed and was back on my shit. Y/n was trying to make me feel better but she assumed that I needed space after millions of times of her begging me to let her in. I know something changed in her because she'd rather die than beg a man, but I didn't look into it. A month later he died in his sleep. Holes in the wall and glass were present in the house but I wanted my dad present. Y/n and Mom tried to cheer me up with my favorite dinner which was dads too. To be fair, I hadn't been in a cheerful mood. I ended up cussing at my mom and Y/n and I kicked Y/n out of my house.

Then the funeral, I know they say men supposed to cry but I felt like I shouldn't grieve because I'd be saying goodbye to dad.
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Y/n pov

Timotheé was ignoring me and I was drowning living in this household with constant arguing between mom and dad. Dad wasn't even discreet anymore, he came to dinner drunk and with his secretary's lipstick stain on the collar of his button down. I have to take my little brother and eat dinner with him in my room almost everyday now. I lost respect for my mom because she stayed with him and even tried to be a better wife for a shitty husband. She knows he is no good but stays with him for her lifestyle. Since Timotheé decided to push me away, I decided to fill up my schedule by to signing up for as much clubs that I could, so I would be away from home.
-

"I'm sorry I didn't know." We both say at the same time.

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