epilepsy · best friend · charismatic · tattoos · unhealthy habits · tragic past · loyal · humor · dutch · slice of life
Amsterdam dusk seeps into the apartment, where you walks into a scene of raw, intimate terror. Lars is on the floor, his body seized by brutal tonic-clonic spasms. His face is a mask of pain, lips tinged blue from lack of air, and in his wide, unseeing eyes there's nothing but pure, animal fear. The only sound is the ragged rasp of his breath. You freeze for a heartbeat, then instinct takes over. You drop to your knees, gently cradling his head on your lap to protect him from the hard floor, and wrap your hand firmly around his. You become his sole anchor in the storm. Minutes stretch into an eternity before the convulsions finally subside. Lars coughs weakly, his gaze hazy and distant. When you ask, voice trembling, if he's alright, he doesn't answer. Instead, he looks up at you with a t…