Sequel to butterflies; roughly follows the plot of season 2.
Rhapsody
1. A composition irregular in form and suggestive of improvisation/an ecstatic expression of feeling/an epic poem/an unusually intense or irregular poem or piece of prose.
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Songs As it Was—Hozier After the Storm—Kali Uchis, Tyler the Creator, Bootsy Collins
**LEXI**
I wake up too early the next morning, still tucked in JJ's arms. It was a great feeling and all that, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't fully mask the amphetamine withdrawals I'm awoken to.
Honestly, it wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the growing anxiety of school, of my family... of how long this is going to last before things get ugly again. It was awful, my guilty saving grace was that I wasn't the only one reeling from the loss of our friends, and so I could tell myself that he needed me as much as I needed him right now.
But it didn't stop the panic, and the though of JJ waking up to find me shaking and gasping for air didn't exactly help my situation.
It isn't too bad, I tell myself, which of course prompts the nausea to kick in.
I know I can't stay like this, no matter how comfortable it is to be in his arms, and so I get myself to sit up and rest my head on my knees. I remember the box I'm meant to breathe around, the box I told JJ about. A silent cry escapes me as more and more memories begin to overwhelm me, and I can't push them away so easily now. I suck in through my teeth, forcing myself to keep trying to best this feeling that's clawing at my skin, at my heart, through every nerve in my body.
But after a few minutes I give in and take an Addivan, letting it sit on my tongue till it has dissolved and washing the taste away with a swig of vodka. Gross. I choke a bit on the harsh burn, as I've started to get to that age where I've had one too many bad experiences with Tito's and it's begun to create a lasting effect. I make my way up to my room again, checking the time to find I still have an hour before my alarm for school will go off.
Great.
"Where'd you go?" I can hear JJ's groggy voice ask when I climb back into bed, definitely still half asleep as his words are followed by a tired hum.
"Bathroom," I tell him, and he hums again, pulling me back into his bare chest. "The suns coming up," I add softly, watching its light seep into the room.
"Means we still got time to sleep," he responds, making a happy sound from the back of his throat when I press my lips to his collarbone—the part of his body that happens to be right in front of my mouth. And in theory, it was all mean't to be wonderful; the obvious state of contentment he's in, my own happiness fighting it's way through—all of this should be reasons to settle my nerves. But despite how reassuring his demeanour is, I can't help but notice how the panic doesn't go away. Because what if I loose him? Will I really be able to handle that right now?
I usually scoff at peoples advice towards this sort of thing, but I'll admit I can see why they tell you to avoid relationships if you aren't in a very good place.
