☩ вяιтση ℓєνι нα∂ιηgѕ ☩
"O-O," was the first Briton heard coming from Oz's mouth. He almost panicked, a bit worried for a split moment about Oz's response and darting his green eyes over to watch his handsome friend's expression. Oz seemed to have difficulty with his own standpoint on the situation, and Briton couldn't blame him. After all, Briton was asking him to withhold some pretty big information. Briton had heard time and time again about what a big deal it was - that having an attack and no one knowing what to do for him was a bad idea - but still he found himself ignoring the concept due to selfishness. When Oz's words came out again, they tumbled all at once like they were one word. "Iwontellem."
"I won't tell anyone." He rephrased after a deep breath, and Briton found himself sighing in relief, shutting his eyes and resting his head back down against Oz's shoulder. That was it. He could relax, couldn't he? Surely, that was one less thing he had to worry about tonight. Oz was typically good about a secret. If only it had been the only problem at hand. "Thanks," Briton managed to utter, though it came out in such a small voice. He felt shaky and sick, but at the very least some of the problems were solved. He could breath, and he didn't have to worry about everyone knowing what happened. He tried to simply convince himself that his other problems just weren't worth worrying over right now. The only things he could fix were already fixed.
Briton picked up one of his hands, rubbing at his eyes and trying to eliminate the evidence that he'd been crying, though it seemed all he managed to do was make the skin around his eyes redder. How embarrassing. He hated crying in front of anyone, and he hated being so clingy and weak and helpless in front of Oz. Every thought which suggested that it was no big deal, that it was okay, was quickly expunged by the same thought of embarrassment. Sure, it wasn't as if Oz was going to be shouting all over town what a big cry baby he was, or how weak and vulnerable he was, but... it didn't change the fact that Oz knew. Oz had seen all of these things and the very idea of Oz knowing was enough to make Briton feel sick to his stomach. He knew it was hopeless, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted Oz to like him. And not in the way that Oz liked all his friends, and not in the way that Oz like anyone who seemed a relatively decent person. Who would ever like someone as weak and broken as I am? He thought, and almost felt as if he were near another break down. This time around however, he had just enough mental stability to suppress it.
It wasn't more than a moment, really, before Oz's words saved Briton from more of his winding thoughts, bringing him out of his worry and back into the current situation. He opened his eyes and tried just to think about how nice it was to have Oz here to comfort him, how alone they were, and how close they were. It hurt so badly, but it was still nice. "What do you want to do? I mean, do you want to go to the hospital right now? Or we can… We can ask someone if there's anything we can do right now. If they say now, then... then we can watch a movie or something tonight and see Violet tomorrow? When both of us are more…" Oz seemed to search for the right word for a small moment, "okay."
Briton found himself clutching small clumps of Oz's shirt in his hands tightly while he thought about it. He wasn't quite up to going anywhere still, and asking Oz to drive again seemed like pushing the envelope a bit much, anyway. Briton's head was swimming just a bit too much for him to get behind the wheel of anything. The more he thought about it, the more he knew it was a bad idea. Violet... God, what had even been going through her damn head? Taking on a couple of neanderthals by herself and expecting to walk away unscathed? He wanted to slap her for so many things... For putting herself in danger, for thinking she needed to save him. Why would anyone think their own safety was worth putting on the line just for him? It wasn't just in this life, either, he reminded himself. The amount of pointless effort they put into helping him out, despite his clear position in their friend group. He wasn't important. Briton was just the one that followed them around, that they'd put up with because who else was going to? They didn't owe him anything, and they certainly didn't need to go trying to save him.
"Yeah, if there's nothing we can do, I'll just spend the night, we can watch a movie, and then we'll go see Violet tomorrow. But it's up to you." Oz reiterated, saving Briton once again from his thoughts. Any longer, and who knows where it would have gotten him. Briton gave just a little nod at first, before noting what a small gesture it was, and trying to give a more defined one, looking right at his friend.
"I guess it's a better idea that we wait till tomorrow," Briton agreed, giving out a little sigh while he fidgeted and made an effort to move himself, no longer leaning right up against the other boy. "I'd probably end up hitting her myself for the stunt she pulled." He looked away, shrugging Oz's supportive arm off of his shoulders for the moment. As much as he wanted it there, the risk of acting a bit more clingy than normal was beginning to seem like a bit more that he was willing to take.
"A movie sounds good, actually," he continued, taking a deep breath in through his nose before hefting himself upward, the action seeming to take a little out of him. "We can set it up in my brother's room since my room is a little," Briton gave a pause, eyeing a small pile of empty redbull cans underneath his desk, "uncomfortable." He turned his gaze forward again, losing a little more outward expression as seconds ticked onward. The evidence of crying was still on his face, but had it not been for that, the very concept of his emotional breakdown would have seemed odd. Accounting for the redness of his face and eyes, however, it was quite clear he was simply suppressing the feeling. He just wasn't willing to let any emotions get past the wall, at least for the given moment. He just wanted to shut it all off. If only he could shut off his thoughts completely.
Picking up his laptop quietly, and near feebly, he had to hold the object hugged against his chest, worried that leaving it in his hand would be too much for his exhausted limbs. The more he thought about it, he really was tired. He just wanted to finally lay down, not move for a while, not worry for a while, get what little strength he had in the first place back. Briton moved to the end of his bed, eyes scanning the mess of wires and cables there for the HDMI cable that sat there. Unlike the TV Briton had worked extra shifts to buy, his brothers TV was much simpler, and required the direct link, rather than simply being synced up to the computer automatically. Snatching it from the ground, he quickly tucked it under his arm and turned on his heels, heading for the door and opening up before stopping dead in his tracks, feeling a tinge in his gut at the silence he was giving his friend.
"Um, Oz?" He interjected into the silence, looking over his shoulder at his friend, the slightest hint of a softer expression in his raw eyes. "Thanks... for, um... taking me home and helping me out and," he bit his lip, turning forward again and keeping his gaze away from the other boy. "Y'know, thanks for staying over. I'll deny it if you say anything ever, and I do mean I'll deny it if you even said something in two minutes, but... I don't really like to be alone after I have attacks like that." Briton looked down a moment, contemplating whether it really was more comforting to be with someone. Decidedly, yes, it was considerably less nerve-wracking to have someone around who cared. However, perhaps it was the fact that the person with him was Oz that gave him a different kind of hurt. Perhaps it simply balanced out, he decided as he finally pushed himself back into motion, leaving the room swiftly for the next door down from his.
He budged the door open with his shoulder and slipped inside, taking a seat on the carpeted floor in front of the flat screen that sat almost up against the wall, not propped up on any kind of table or desk, and not that there was even one in the room at all. The queen sized bed behind him which was wedged between the walls of the narrow room didn't even sit on a box-spring, leaving everything just about at the same low level anyway. The remainder of his brother's things, mostly clothes for the weekends and holidays when he came home, were all tossed in the small closet. Briton made quick work of plugging up his computer, turning it and the television on, beginning to pull up his movie files for the second time today when he took note of Oz coming into the room as well. He flashed a weak smile, but quickly looked back to the television screen, now showing off his computer desk top, and shyly tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.
"So," Briton spoke up, hefting his laptop awkwardly while he crawled over to the mattress and settled down, slumping against the multiple pillows that were leaned up against the far wall at the head of the bed. He plopped the laptop down on his lap, and sent his look back over to Oz. "What kind of movie do you wanna watch? I've got a lot of different ones, so... your choice, okay?" He rubbed his eyes absentmindedly, a little bit of an ache settling into them. He couldn't say he was surprised, of course, what with the exhaustion. It was getting late, after all, and his eyes were a bit tired. Sitting up suddenly, Briton leaned over and placed the open laptop in Oz's lap, before standing promptly. "I'll be right back, you can go ahead and pick one," He continued in explanation, before slipping out of the room and back to his own.
His glasses... not that it was a common occasion when he slipped them on, but when it he was tired like this and going to be focusing on a bright screen... Well, he supposed it couldn't be helped. Surely he didn't wear them often, but it wasn't as if his friends didn't see them at all. At least he didn't have to worry about that, he assured himself while he picked through the strewn contents from the drawer he'd pulled out of his dresser just a bit earlier, crouching on the ground to try and find them. Once located, he reluctantly slipped the dorky, slim framed pair onto the bridge of his nose, aware that while their main purpose was to make focusing easier, their other purpose was probably just to make him look as geeky as humanly possible. Straightening up with a sigh, he retreaded back to his brother's room, striding in while he pushed the glasses a little further up on his nose with the back of his hand.
"Sorry about that, my eyes are just kind of tired," Briton explained, lowering himself down to the mattress and crawling to the space next to Oz, giving up once again on his struggles to put some distance between them. He leaned his shoulder into Oz's side as casually as possible, gazing at the lit up screen expectantly, if not somewhat tiredly. He had half a mind to expect himself to fall asleep partway through whatever movie they watched, but he supposed that was alright. "Find something good?"