So like, I've been trying to figure out to put this into words for weeks, I needed to write it. I *needed* to write it. This guy, this person, this. Anyway. Labirinto. He is so blorbo shaped, like hello, you can't blame me for getting way too attached like almost as soon as we met them right.
Tics, dysmorphia question mark, just all around being uncomfortable I don't really know how else to tag that
The way a shiver ran down his spine, the way his jaw equally took turns falling open and tightened, the way his fingers moved, the way his eyes clenched shut, the way his neck twitched and twitched and t witched a nd twit ched and twi tch ed a n d
Labirinto held back and back and back as the anxiety rose and rose and rose.
The anxiety and the panic and the unease and it was out of his control his control his control his control his control.
The way someone would ask him a question or try to have a conversation with him or wanted him to give his opinion.
And sometimes (most of the time) he barely got a thought out, barely got a word out, between the way he twitched and ticked and tried to breathe through the frustration and unease and the skin crawling and crawling and crawling and the static and the static and the static.
Breathe Labirinto just breathe and remember remember remember.
He remembered everything.
The memories were none of his own.
The memories were too much of his own.
Too much too much t oo much
And move fingers and unclench eyes and twitch.