fresh air | pulisic

03.

He finds out that Nia is a year younger and that she doesn't really know what he wants to do with his life. He finds out that Nia's hair used to be pink, but it's faded out in the last couple of weeks and it's back to blond, and that the film camera she's using belongs to her dad. The camcorder is hers though; a spur of the moment purchase, Nia had described it as and he learns of all the places Nia's been to in the last year, London being her last stop, she's returning next week because there's really nothing like home even though London felt like a second one to her and Christian tells her of how jealous he is to have been so free for a year. Nia only smiles and sips on her drink.

He doesn't really know if they can call each other friends, but he hangs out with Nia a lot after that.

It's almost like they've been friends for years because Nia shows him all of the hidden restaurants and cafes she's found over the past few months, takes him to all the tourist spots he hasn't seen yet and they talk and bicker just like old friends. The whole time, Christian watches her as she records her journey on the film camera and her camcorder. She helps Christian take some photos too and they take some together, but Christian isn't really the kind of person to take that many photos in the first place and Nia doesn't force him.

Nia never forces him.

She waits, she shares things about herself when Christian doesn't want to and if Christian doesn't want to go somewhere, they don't go. Maybe she'll tease him a little, but Nia never makes him feel uncomfortable.

So maybe that's why he goes to Nia on the fifth night, stumbling right into her arms as soon as he opens the door to her room across the road.

His head is throbbing, he's gasping for air and his eyes are filling with tears he really doesn't want. his hands are shaking, he's cold, there's a weight on his chest and it hurts so, so much– he feels like it'll crush his ribs, lungs and his heart, but he can't breathe. he's trying and trying, but he just can't because his throat is dry, he wants to throw up and everything hurts. he knows he's being stupid and he knows he's being dramatic and he knows it's not the end of the world, but it feels like it and he doesn't know what to do.

But Nia is calm, she's understanding and she's here.

Nia is holding him close, her arms are squeezing him tight and she's leading Christian towards his bed so they can sit down. Sitting proves to be a little awkward, so she lies him down instead and when she has Christian tucked in, she begins to move away to get something from her bag, but Christian fingers curl into the cuff of her sleeve, begging her to stay through his tears and she does. She lies down beside him, letting him press as close as he physically can, wrapping her arms around Christian's shoulders while her fingers sink into Christian's soft hair, murmuring comforting words into the top of his head.

They stay like that for a while, with Christian's arms wrapped tight around Nia's waist, his fingers fisting the fabric of Nia's shirt. He's still shaking, still crying, his breathing is still ragged and his chest is still heaving with the need for air, but he's calming down while focusing on Nia's presence, focusing on how she smells and then suddenly Nia is singing for him and Christian only has to close his eyes and focus.

He matches his breathing with Nia's, slow and deep and Nia's voice is so rich, so pretty and so clear, it pierces through his erratic thoughts, scattering them with the night wind to still his mind. Nia's fingers dance through the strands of his hair, her other hand splayed warmly against the back of his shoulder and he presses closer, feeling exhaustion settle over his body.

He's so tired.