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tw pressure on being perfect
🧩 ⌜ when i met you ⌟ ┈─❟
WELCOME TO WHITE SPACE
Omori blinks.
It was the same old white room. Same old laptop on the floor. Same old tissue box. Same old notebook that has so much doodles that he could remember vividly. Same old lightbub that hangs in the air. Same old cat that meows at him for attention. And yet...
Something seems different, something new. He doesn't feel comfortable anymore. The air feels heavier around him, the walls seem closer, and it's not the same as when he was here before. No. Something is wrong with him.
It's just a feeling, though, one that Omori has felt many times. So he ignores it, instead he walks around like the rest of the times he had that feeling.
Maybe it was time to go with his friends.
Omori stares at the white door, placing his hand on the handle. What's behind there will surely be interesting. Maybe it'll bring back memories. It's not very likely that he would encounter those again after all this time, right?
***
WELCOME TO HEADSPACE
"Oh wow, making flower crowns are more complicated than I thought..." Franzlyn muttered to herself, as she finished off yet another knot on a pink tulle headband for the fourth time. She was tired of trying to make something look pretty and wasn't in any condition to be doing this right now. Her hand shook as she struggled to tie the last knot, the end falling apart when she touched the string too hard. Frustrated, she let it go and gave up on it, leaning back against Mari with an exhausted sigh. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..."
This was her fifth attempt to create that flower crown. It looked terrible and she had been practicing for weeks, but every single time she tried it failed miserably, not only because she was never good enough at the task, but also because she didn't have time or patience left after each failure to try again.
There were days where she just felt so angry and frustrated. Days when she wanted nothing more than to throw down the flowers, scream, and storm off into the treed to cry by herself like some pathetic child. It wouldn't solve anything, though, because she couldn't even bring herself to do those things. Not without looking completely immature in front of Hero.
And, no matter how much she wished otherwise, she knew she would never, ever admit she needed help. She would never tell him about what a terrible artist, which was ironic since she was a fashionista, she actually is or what a mess she's been for the past months. That way she'll just hurt him more, and he doesn't deserve that kind of pain, no matter what Hero might believe.
