teach me gently on how to breathe || tradley/brad

خائن

"Don't worry," one of the boys tell him. He sounds Scottish. He looks younger than the other one. He has brown-ish/blond-ish feathery hair and nice blue eyes. "It's not as bad here as you think it is right now."

"Really," Brad quietly speaks. Instead of taking a sip from his Ensure, he takes a gulp. He looks down at the bottle, not knowing how he's going to be able to drink all of it.

"Yeah," he replies. "I've only been here for four days, but I've adapted to it pretty well."

"I haven't," the other one states. He has blue eyes, too, and brown hair messily styled upwards. "But I've only been here for three, and I guess it isn't as bad here as I thought it was either."

Brad doesn't believe them, but he gives them a small smile, anyway, for trying to help him feel comfortable, and takes another gulp. "Thanks."

"I'm Connor," the younger looking boy says.

"And I'm James."

He gives the two another small smile. "Brad."

"This is Tristan," James tells him. Brad quizzically turns his head to the blond he forgot was sitting at the table with them. Tristan looks at them and then back at the bottle he doesn't look like he's planning on taking a sip from anytime soon. "He's more talkative on good days."

"Oh, okay," Brad replies. James and Connor quickly move on to a conversation about musicians, favourite colours, and siblings. Normal people conversations. Brad engages in it only a little bit and before he knows it, it's time to leave the cafeteria.

Brad finds himself glancing over to the blond beside him who didn't drink any Ensure at all. The nurses don't get on him about it. Brad thinks maybe he should refuse to drink it, too if there really aren't any consequences.

James and Connor tell him goodbye before breaking off from each other and leaving with their own nurse. Brad looks to his side and realises he's alone with Tristan as he prepares to leave the cafeteria.

"They were right, you know," the blond surprisingly speaks.

"Right about what?" Brad asks.

"It's not as bad here as you think it is," he tells him. "Because it's much worse."

Brad lets out a chuckle. Tristan gives him a smug smile like he's pleased to make someone laugh and then walks away alongside his nurse without saying goodbye. The curly-haired boy pulls his eyes away from him and faces his nurse.

"Am I going back to my room?" Brad asks, hopeful.

"I'm taking you to the rec room," she replies. Brad lets out a small sigh and follows after her. He doesn't know what a rec room is yet, but he's too exhausted to find out and just wants to fall asleep for years.

The rec room is medium sized and Brad is the only boy inside of it at the moment. It's furnished with a couch and a bright coloured, circular table. Two girls sit at it. One is writing on a sheet of notebook paper and the other is drawing a picture. Some girls are sculpting clay or talking on the sofa. Brad feels like he has walked into the childrens' waiting room he sometimes passes when he goes to doctor appointments. Minus the clay.

His eyes scan the rec room. Everyone seems like they've claimed their own designated place, which makes being in here with people even more frustrating. He feels like he's in secondary school again, figuring out where he fits in the lunch room.

Brad finds a spot for himself. It's in a corner where no one else is. He drags a chair over to it and sits, the next minutes passing with him blankly staring at the wall and wishing he were anywhere else but here.