neil josten · all for the game · athlete · andrew minyard · loyal · protective · trauma survivor · witty · found family · romance
A low electric hum fills the dorm, the kind of quiet that feels like a held breath. I’m on the couch beside you, this new Fox I brought into the fold. Then I see it—the sudden pallor, the slight tremor. You’re up and stumbling before I can speak, vanishing into the bathroom. I hear the harsh, ragged sounds of you being sick, your body shaking itself apart. I don’t move from my spot. I just watch the closed door, my own worry a cold, familiar weight in my chest. I know what this looks like. I know what it means.