☩ вяιтση ℓєνι нα∂ιηgѕ ☩
Briton tried his best to take a deep breath, to take any breath at all, while Nathan grabbed at his shoulders to try and steady him, to try and get him to backtrack a moment further in the conversation. Briton, on the other hand, the color in his lips fading and the room spinning slightly, felt as though he were going to crumble in his friend's grip, and would have collapsed if it weren't partially holding him upright at the small moment. "Listen to me-- WHERE is Violet? What is she going to do?"
"Sh-she left with Vic and Ryan," Briton managed, his rib-cage quivering while the statement had to be forced out. When Nathan released him suddenly, taking off without a single word, Briton found himself losing his footing slightly, trying to cover up the action with a step before finding himself hunched again, his face to his elbow, his chest heaving out coughs. Forget about telling Charlie about leaving, he simply had to leave. He couldn't take any more, and the air only seemed to grow heavier and more difficult to take in. It was a disgusting combination of painful music, teenage body oder, and booze. He felt like vomiting.
He was only vaguely aware of Oz's presence still next to him until the gentle hand came down on him, softly and soothingly rubbing his back to try to comfort him. Oz, who Briton was almost sure would have raced right on after Nate to help him find Violet, had not moved a single inch away from him. "Briton." Oz said, and for the moment, Briton stopped coughing while he tried to hone in on that voice of his, tried to ignore the headache which threatened to split him in two. He still struggled, his lungs taking abnormal breathes and feeling as though the air were getting stuck in his throat and not moving down, but he at the very least quieted himself. "Briton, I'm going to get you home. Let me text Charlie, okay? Then we'll go to your car and I can take you home. Can you move now? It's fine if you just need to stay here for a minute."
He forced himself to straighten up, trying his best to hold his body still though it seemed that all the tenseness managed to achieve was making him shake more. He gave a pause, trying to compose himself before absentmindedly nodding his head, which in itself felt too heavy for the rest of him in general, and he had to stop for a moment, before nodding once again after his mind caught up with his body. "Yeah. Yeah I think I'll be okay," his voice was a mere wisp as it came out barely audible, though Oz must have heard something, gotten the message somehow, because the arm on his shoulder pulled him a little nearer and began coax him towards the door, gently and slowly, to be sure that no more stress was about to befall his body before he was even outside, before he was even home. It was mere seconds - or felt like mere seconds, though time seemed to be going in slow motion, and movement seemed a hazy blur - before a figure of blonde hair and decent stature passed by, causing a jolt to Oz that even Briton could vaguely feel through the physical connection between them at the moment. Was that Charlie? He tried to brush off the notion. If that was Charlie, then the other boy could probably guess by the state of Briton that he was leaving. It was fine.
Blinking a few times at the sight of his car, he tried to process what was going on as best he could. He was already there? Oz was... Oz was going to drive him home instead. Even if the other boy was drunk, Briton figured, he would still have done a better job driving. Trying to gasp in breaths of the outside air, though only feeling slightly worse at what must have been light pollen in the air, or humidity, or dryness... Whatever it was, though better than the air inside, was still heavy and scratchy in his throat, while he put on hand over his mouth, the other hand was left to fumble around in his pockets until they found the keys, and he promptly slipped them into his friend's hand. He distanced himself from Oz, finally, while he traversed around towards the passenger side - a place he only ever really took whenever his brother was in town - though stopped in the middle of his journey to cough a few more times, bending slightly at the waist and leaving his hand in place while he straightened up and finished the trip, sliding into the seat and making a lazy attempt at buckling in.
The ride home, he was quiet. Oz was quiet. Or at least, Briton thought he had been, either that or his aching skull was nullifying the words. Instead of speaking, the time was spent lying partially sideways, breaths shuddering while his eyes simply watched Oz the whole way home; watching him drive, watching him glance over with concern any time Briton made some kind of cough or noise. Even if Oz was worried, even if he was causing some kind of problem and needed help again, he didn't so much mind Oz coming to his rescue quietly; Oz didn't pry, he didn't ask questions, it was like the reason didn't matter at all. He could help without making some big scene about it, and then at the same time, Briton supposed he just liked having the boy's attention. And who could have really blamed him? It was nice to have some attention that didn't turn into some ridiculous over-dramatic scene. He wasn't being interrogated or put on the spot, he was just... being helped... And that was nice.
When the car finally came to a stop, Briton groggily sat up and unbuckled, fumbling on the handle of the door for a moment before pushing out of the car and making a quick - the quickest he possibly could - effort towards the old wooden staircase. He hesitated before stepping onto it, the normal fear of it toppling over settled into his aching, quivering chest, while he slowly stepped onto the first landing, before trying to go upward as quickly as he possibly could, only stopping slightly when he tripped on one of the creaking middle steps to let out a couple of deep coughs, and pausing once more at the top landing, only the realizing that Oz still had his keys to get in, and promptly stepped out of the way slightly so the other boy could step onto the landing and hand them over.
He fumbled with them for a moment, before pushing through the door and barely remembering to hold the door open so that Oz could get in, and, not bothering to take off his shoes or try focus on anything specific in the room. He simply dropped the keys in his hands to the ground and made a straight track for his messy bedroom. The only evidence of his struggle for the short moment was the lack of coloring in his face, the tiny thrashing movements to his chest, the shaking in his limbs, though he made no sort of big deal about it while he pried open the old door and trudged through the mess over to the small dresser in the room, putting his hands against the top drawer and hesitating, looking back at the boy who'd followed him inside. "C-could you just..." He swallowed, he tried to get a breath. It was difficult to run a full sentence with no air in his lungs to expel. "...g-get me some water?"
When Oz had retreated from the room to do as was requested, Briton yanked the drawer out from the dresser, stepping back with a jolt while it slid completely out and crashed against the floor, its contents scattering and jumbling about, most of which falling out. Heart still pounding, world still spinning, he dropped to his knees, raking through objects until he found his inhaler, and put it quickly to his lips while he struggled to stand himself up, though quickly had to settle for sitting on his bed instead, which proved far easier. Eyes closed, and taking a moment to calmly blow out what little air was in his lungs, he pressed his fingers down on the top and breathed in the contents deeply, holding in the breath for as long as he could while he dropped his hand with the object to his side. Letting out the breath, and beginning to feel the oxygen in the air fill his lungs a little more normally with the quick breaths that followed, he felt at least a little better.
Not bothering to open his eyes, and fully knowing that Oz had probably re-arrived in the room, Briton chucked the inhaler to the floor, collapsing backwards on his bed to lay down on it. He tried simply to focus on his breaths, in and out, slow and deep. Little by little the color was coming back to him, his lips turning that soft pink color once again, a flush coming into his cheeks. He still shook slightly, though it was far less noticeable. His chest hurt like hell, but at least it wouldn't for much longer. The spinning feeling was slowing down, his thoughts were starting to make sense again. Feeling almost like he'd regret it, he opened his eyes, tilting his head so that he could spot Oz in the room, though he quickly rolled over on his side, eyes averting shamefully. What a problem he'd caused for his friend. Oz... Oz, who'd probably have been racing off after Nathan if it hadn't been for Briton's sudden attack, who probably would have preferred Nathan's company, even if it was just more 'trying to be a hero,' and who probably felt as neutral towards Briton as he did towards something like a plant.
"Sorry," Briton muttered, his words coming out quietly, though he didn't really worry about it, seeing as there weren't any noises to obstruct a conversation in the quiet apartment. "About that, and... that you had to help me." He sat up, still trying to avoid Oz's gaze as of the current moment, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and staring downward. A shudder ran through his chest, causing his inhale to be distorted for a small moment, though it thankfully returned to normal, and Briton payed it little mind. He simply had to stay calm, not get emotional or have any kind of breakdown, avoid too much that would stress him out. He'd be fine, it'd be alright. At least he wasn't at the stupid party, but he couldn't help but think that he'd inadvertently ruined everyone's night through all this nonsense. They could have just had fun if it weren't for him saying anything, right? Oblivious and happy, right? Nate wouldn't have gotten in a fight, Violet wouldn't have run off with Ryan and Vic... He dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head. "This is all my fault."