chapter eighteen - a movie and a dream

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***NOTE: this chapter contains a brief description of a past sexual assault. the part is labeled in bold letters where it ends and begins. PLEASE do not read it if it will trigger you in any way. if you want to skip this chapter entirely, i will be more than happy to give you a summary of the non-triggering parts :)

"Would you want to watch a movie?" Theodore asked as they lied on their stomachs—their bodies pressed against Theodore's soft bed.

"I'd love to. What movie?"

"Hmm... Have you watched Scott Pilgrim vs. the World?"

Nate immediately laughed as he rolled his eyes. "Wow, how stereotypical of you. Of course you like Scott Pilgrim you skater, indie boy, with music taste akin to a manipula-"

"Shut up!" Theodore shouted as he repeatedly pushed Nate to the side. "I knew you were going to say something like that. Fine, you know what? We're not watching it."

"No, please... I..." Nate laughed—trying desperately to get his breath back and crawl to the middle of the bed. "I love that movie, let's watch it."

The older boy dramatically sighed as he grabbed the remote and began the film with audio captions. Nate was flattered that Theodore didn't feel as if he needed to ask.

"Woah, this guy's voice..." Theodore began—referring to the narrator.

"Sounds like a goofy uncle? Yeah, I know, I love him," Nate replied. "He does a lot of the audio captions on Netflix and I owe him my life for it."

Theodore chuckled as Nate flipped comfortably on his back. He took a deep inhale and let out a strong exhale as he relaxed into the mattress. He felt much more at ease than he anticipated. Theodore's room was lit with warm, gentle light coming from the soft sun that didn't hurt Nate's eyes, and the air smelt like vanilla and lavender ever so slightly. Nate wiggled his toes and legs as he tried to get into the most comfortable position imaginable. Theodore yawned loudly beside him.

"Tired?" Nate asked.

"Yeah. Very much so," the other boy replied. "I might come join you. I'm feeling a little left out."

"Why? You jealous that I can 'watch' without being remotely pointed at the T.V.?"

"A little bit."

"Get two ocular diseases and then you'll be good."

Theodore choked on his own air. Nate smiled in amusement; he was getting surprisingly good at being forward.

"I remember when you were so hesitant with everything you said," Theodore replied.

"Oh, I still am. I just have less things to be hesitant about now—like making jokes about how you suck because you can see."

Theodore suddenly flipped his own body over, mirroring Nate's. The butterflies in Nate's stomach instantly began fluttering as he did so.

"You don't have to be hesitant about anything, you know?" Theodore sighed.

"That is physically impossible for me, but I appreciate it. My anxiety disorder is too strong sometimes."

"Oh yeah, that's right; you're mentally ill too."

Nate chuckled. "Majorly."

"How does it manifest for you?" Theodore asked—his head turned towards Nate.

Suddenly, the conversation changed. Taking about mental health issues always felt so dark, but with Theodore, it was different. Nate had no idea why it felt so easy.

"Um, in every way kind of," he sighed. "It's kind of hard to tell what is the PTSD and what is the anxiety sometimes, because they can look similar but be different. Like, one way that anxiety works out in me is panic attacks. I go through waves of them being more frequent or not. But, panic attacks can also look like flashbacks. I also have a lot of nightmares, but again, they can stem from either one or both. It kind of gets muddled."

All Our Sensitivityजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें