Summery: Y/n wakes up in a dark, cramped space and doesn't know where *pronoun* is or how *pronoun* got there. Then Ryan and Shane show up. Can they... help?
Warnings: description of pain and wounds, panic
a/n: german is my mother language, and I didn't write much in English, so it felt a bit off.. but I don't caaaare! Cause this story has literally been sitting around with me for 6 years. I'm a bit impatient today to upload it. 😬 And I'm anonymous, sooo...
(BuzzFeed Unsolved still existed back then!)
A pounding roar in my head made me jerk awake. Sighing, I opened my eyes and looked into a deep, dark black. What time was it? One in the morning? Eight at night? I had no idea. I breathed in and out deeply and had to sneeze before I wanted to turn to the side to grab my phone. Only now was I fully present. I couldn't turn over; my shoulder hit something hard in front of me, and I wasn't lying down. I was standing. I could clearly feel the weight of my body on my feet. I couldn't bend my knees any more than my shoulder could reach. I held my breath and opened my eyes wide.
What. The. Hell.
My head was empty. Only one thought filled it: Where was I? In a desperate attempt to figure it out, I felt the wall in front of me and behind me. It was cold, a bit rough. Stone? I could stretch my arms to the sides, but my hands touched nothing. A corridor? Was I stuck in a corridor?
The more I started to realize, the more thoughts rushed through my head.
Stone was in front and behind me, I was in a corridor. It was dark and cold, and I didn't know how I had gotten there or what time it was. I hadn't slept—I had been unconscious. The headache, the throbbing in my skull... was I hurt? My heart started racing and I breathed deeply again. Again I had to sneeze. Dust. It was dusty in here. Probably dirty. This wasn't a corridor. It was a gap. Judging by the walls of stone on either side and the complete lack of light...
no.
I started moving sideways. Which is when I really became aware of the pain in my body. Not just my head, everything hurt. A particularly sharp pain spread through my stomach. But that mattered less than the fact that I had to get out of here, damn it!
"No..," I prayed, "No!"
I wouldn't let the thought in my head that was trying to push its way forward get through. Not until I could be completely sure. I reached my hand out to the side, into nothing. Until it met resistance and a sob escaped my throat. I shook my head and went, if you could call it that, in the other direction. On and on. And there too, my hand met resistance. Cold, rough resistance. I couldn't stop it anymore, the thought.
I was stuck in a wall.
My heart was racing now, my chest tightening. I was tempted to press my hand to my mouth, but I couldn't. It was too tight. The last bit of sanity I could grasp told me I should scream. And I did. I yelled my soul out. Kicked and hammered against the wall until my voice gave up and my body collapsed from exhaustion, without the satisfaction of actually feeling any relief. It was too tight. There was nowhere to slump.
I didn't know what time it was, where I was, or what I was even doing here—I knew I was stuck. And I wouldn't make it out of here alone.
Panic surged inside me, one last bit of strength, one last desperate attempt to gain control over my situation, made me slam my head against the wall.
When I woke up, my skull was ringing again, I knew I had knocked myself unconscious. Hot tears immediately shot into my eyes and ran down my cheeks, down to my chin. Dripped down. And the silence was now filled with my sobbing. It hurt! My throat swelled, and I wanted to scream, but my vocal cords wouldn't let me.
Trapped in loops of panic, I spent God knows how much time crying, screaming (when I could), hammering against the wall (when I could), falling into fainting or sleep, only to wake up and go through the same thing all over again.
In the end, I was so weak that I could only bang my head against the wall. My last hope. Don’t go quiet, stay loud, until maybe someone could hear me.
"Shit!" it shouted.
My heart skipped a beat and I blinked. Had I really heard someone? I strained my ears, but it went quiet again. I let my head fall against the wall once more. In response, there was a dull scream. Laughter started immediately.
Oh my God. Oh my God!!
They were incredibly quiet and muffled, and maybe I was hallucinating—but there were voices! People!
Strength shot back into my body and I slammed against the wall with all the remaining force I had left.
"Hello?" someone called. A male, deep voice. It sounded so much clearer than before. They were coming toward me! I wanted to answer when he continued speaking.
"My name is Ryan and this is Shane—what's your name?"
I blinked, my breathing way too fast and my heart racing. Two men were here, I couldn't believe it! I was saved!
"Hello!" I croaked as loudly as I could, "Ryan and Shane, hey! I'm y/n! Hey!
Summery: y/n (genderneutral)* can't hide a pretty important thing anymore
Warnings: Just human beings being human beings, panic attacks, hurt/comfort I guess? description of wounds
*Because this is now a multi-chapter story, I had to give y/n a background and character traits and stuff, so y/n is now an OC.
The facts so far: has an anxiety disorder, a family (parents and siblings), a cat, is between 25 and 30 years old and reserved
a/n: I used a translater and checked, if all makes sense, but I'm still unsure, since english isn't my mother language. It just feels.. off. If anyone likes to be a beta reader- I'm so here for it! 🫀
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The growl of my stomach woke me up from a wild dream. At least, that was the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes. My gaze wandered around searching, until I found them. Eric's eyes. He looked down at me, frowning, his pale lips pressed together.
"Did you..." I had to clear my throat; it hurt when I spoke, and you could also hear that, "Did you sleep well?"
He nodded slowly. I smiled and tried to sit up. I must have collapsed to the floor in my sleep. Eric’s hands were immediately there to help me.
"Where’s Frodo?"
Eric shook his head: "He’s fine."
I looked at him curiously. At first he couldn't let go of Frodo without having a panic attack, and now he seemed to not care?
"What's wrong?" I wanted to know. He avoided my gaze and looked around before continuing to help me to find a comfortable sitting position, while shaking his head. The pain in my abdomen suddenly became almost unbearable. It took all my remaining strength to keep a hold of my face, but I couldn't help reaching for the wound. My fingers touched something wet. Shocked, I looked down at myself. My light sweater now had a pretty red spot, almost like a flower.
"Fuck," I hissed, trying to cover the stain somehow. My eyes automatically searched for Henri. But who was I fooling.
"You were making noises in your sleep. Moving..," Eric mumbled, unable to meet my eyes, "That must be when the wound opened."
"I moved?" I laughed, which hurt, "Did I do a cartwheel? A wound doesn't just go away from something—"
"I think you had some kind of a night terror?" he interrupted me. He seemed nervous and cleared his throat before continuing, "I've heard about that."
My face flushed immediately. For some reason, I was incredibly embarrassed. "Sorry."
"You're sorry?" he smiled, surprised.
"I haven't had that since I was a kid. Did I hurt you?"
He shook his head: "But yourself. We couldn't stop the wound from reopening."
My head felt even hotter now. "...we?"
Eric nodded without looking at me. "Don't worry. Henri will handle it. Although I don't think... I mean..." He pressed his lips together. "Everyone here seems.. cool."
Somewhat relieved, I sighed. That was good news. "Then we don’t have to hide anymore."
"No." Eric smiled and patted my forearm, which made me chuckle.
"I told you that you could make it up to me," I muttered, smiling bitterly, and looked around again. This time a bit more intensely. Now that I wasn’t looking at Eric, I felt the urge to grab his hand. But I didn't.
A lot of the people were sitting now too. They looked tired, staring off, or sleeping. You could tell that some were still dealing with acute fear. Eric and I were very likely not the only ones to have had panic attacks or bouts of anxiety in the past few hours. Honestly, I would have been surprised if everyone here had been as composed as Henri. Most of us were a miserable, lost, traumatized bunch of city folk, not even close to having the skills needed to handle the fight for survival.
I spotted Henri. He had sat down too. He spoke calmly but focused with the people he had already talked to before I fell asleep. So the government was in place.
“What happened?” Eric asked cautiously.
I had to laugh and shook my head. "I tripped. Over my own feet and ended up falling on a piece of wood." I tried to describe it with my hands. "The floor in the apartment had been broken up and a piece of wood was sticking up and..." I had to laugh again, "You can’t die more stupidly in an apocalypse."
"You didn’t die."
"No," I looked over at Henri again, "I was lucky I was in Henri’s apartment. I don’t know how long I lay there. He said it was close."
I saw Eric’s hand move toward mine, but before he could grab it, he pulled it back.
"What were you doing in his apartment? Did you know him?"
I shook my head. "Not really. He was my neighbor. I tried to get into my apartment through his somehow." I got goosebumps and felt sick. "I didn't make it." Tears shot to my eyes. "I tripped, then Henri came and then... it was too late."
Now Eric’s hand didn’t pull back. Carefully, he took mine and squeezed it. Just very gently. Like he was ready to pull it away at the slightest hint from me. I stayed as still as I could and closed my eyes. Enjoyed the feeling of being held. Of being understood without having to explain myself much. How pathetic could one be.
When something landed on my lap, I jumped. To my regret, Eric let go immediately, but I couldn't help laughing. Frodo was getting comfortable on my lap.
"Traitor," Eric muttered, laughing quietly.
My hand ran through the soft fur, and I took a deep breath in and out. It could stay like this now. Eric next to me, Frodo on my lap.
My stomach growled.
"Fuck," I muttered, annoyed.
"We should be there soon. Loise said something like 1, maybe 2 hours. She also mentioned that the island is inhabited. And she was sure that we should be able to find food there for a few days."
My stomach growled again. "Painkillers would be nice."
I felt Eric looking at me from the side. I also sensed that he wanted to say something but held back. And I wished he would grab my hand again. But he didn't.
For the next hour, we just existed next to each other. I tried to push away my pain as best I could, but cold sweat formed on my forehead and my breathing became shallower. For a moment, I thought about trying to fall asleep again. But that apparently wasn’t very safe. Still, I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds around me. Soft murmuring. Every now and then, someone would get a bit louder, Henri would respond, and the person would quiet down again. I heard people snoring, others crying, water rushing, and the engine roaring. Frodo purred. Eric breathed. Calmly and slowly. I felt the wind on my sweat-drenched forehead. The warmth Frodo gave me and his weight on my lap. I felt the cold metal behind my back. Eric’s hand on mine. Eric’s hand on my forehead.
"You have a fever," he murmured softly and tried to get up, but I grabbed his hand and he stayed.
"Will you take care of me? Until we get there?"
"Hm?"
I didn't open my eyes, I just couldn't. "I'm tired..."
Eric seemed to understand. Luckily. So I didn't have to talk anymore. He helped me lie down. Automatically, I turned onto my side and felt his body warmth on my face. Frodo found a spot between us and purred again.
"I'll take care of you," Eric murmured, and after his hand checked my forehead once more, it settled on my back. I got goosebumps. Then he began to gently stroke me. And everything around me faded away, leaving only the pain. And Frodo, purring beside me, and Eric's fingers, leaving goosebumps one after another. And Eric's warmth. Eric's breathing...
"Y/n has a fever," he whispered.
"We should be there in about 45 minutes," Henri replied quietly, "If y/n is still asleep then—will you stay with y/n on the boat? I'll go look for medicine."
"Thanks, Henri."
"How are you?"
"Hm. How are you?"
"Hm," there was a short pause, "Everything will be fine."
"Yes."
"We are safe, Eric."
"Yes." Eric's voice sounded thin. His hand on my back was trembling.
"Eric?"
"Hm?"
"We have each other. We're safe. Everything will be okay."
Eric's hand was now still on my back. He took a deep breath in and out.
"We have each other, everything will be okay," he murmured softly in my direction, and I slipped into a fever dream.
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chapter one: close
💬 0 🔁 2 ❤️ 7 · 🫀close🫀 · Summery: y/n (genderneutral) is already on the boat that's leaving new york, when Eric managed to reach the boat
chapter two: wombat poop
💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 4 · 🫀 close 🫀 · i accidentally clicked on the poll item and now I don't know how to get rid of it but I don't want to do the wh
i accidentally clicked on the poll item and now I don't know how to get rid of it but I don't want to do the whole post all over again, so here: Eric?
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Voting ended onJun 14
second chapter: wombat poop
Summery: y/n (genderneutral)* and Eric are still on the boat and have to compensate the hurtful memories of the last hours
Warnings: Just human beings being human beings, panic attacks, hurt/comfort I guess?
*Because this is now a multi-chapter story, I had to give y/n a background and character traits and stuff, so y/n is now an OC.
The facts so far: has an anxiety disorder, a family (parents and siblings), a cat, is between 25 and 30 years old and reserved
a/n: I used a translater and checked, if all makes sense, but I'm still unsure, since english isn't my mother language. It just feels.. off. If anyone likes to be a beta reader- I'm so here for it! 🫀
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I let myself fall next to him against the ship's wall and had to take a few deep breaths myself. Cautiously, I glanced to the side. Eric was leaning forward, his face in the cat's fur. He was still sobbing, but at least his body seemed relaxed. I sighed inwardly and turned my gaze away from his hunched back to look at my hands. They were still shaking a little. I would probably need until tomorrow or the day after to get his pain out of me. To regulate myself.
My gaze went upwards and I looked around. In the faces of the people who, despite the safe situation, were still speaking only quietly and tensely with each other, fear was written. The day was grey. We were heading towards the open water. New York had been overrun by monsters, too many people had died in the last few hours. My family...
My gaze returned to Eric's cat. My cat... All dead. Maybe I would need a few more days to regulate myself. It started to tingle in my stomach, it would rise into my chest and end in the form of nausea and an unstoppable flow of tears if I didn't stop it immediately.
"What is her name?"
Eric needed a few seconds before reacting and let himself fall back against the wall.
"Frodo," he answered tiredly, staring into space. A hand slipped out of the black-and-white fur and disappeared into the jacket pocket.
"He didn't run away when it started? He stayed with you?" The tingling in my stomach eased. Nala. Red fur. Young. She had limped. I hadn't managed to get back to her in the apartment when it started. The tingling returned.
"Eric?" I asked.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Frodo belonged to a friend. He led me... to her."
"How romantic.."
"Platonic," he corrected me and smiled at me faintly, "You remind me of her."
"Yes?"
"You reminded me of her. Just now.." he cleared his throat, "Thank you."
I shook my head: "You can definitely make it up to me later."
He looked at me questioningly, and I held out my trembling hands to him. "Anxiety disorder. Since I was 14."
He pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."
Again I shook my head. "Did you know that earwigs can fly?"
"That's.. strangely creepy."
"I think so too," I laughed, "Their pincers – they use them to unfold the wings. That's what they have their pincers for."
He smiled: "You like insects?"
"No. I respect all animals, at least I try. But like?"
For a while we remained silent, and I could only hear the water hitting the boat. The engine. As if a plan were slowly being forged around us, about how things should continue. The tingling was now so quiet that it no longer posed any danger.
"Tell me more," he murmured, and I didn't know if it was intentional, but when he changed his seating position, he came so close that our arms touched, sending a shiver down my spine. I yawned.
"You first," I smiled.
"Okay.." he raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, "In Washington, it is forbidden to sweep dirt under your carpet."
"You're lying!" I laughed.
"It's true!" he replied loudly, and I noticed a few glances darting our way.
"What's the punishment?"
"No idea.."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm studying law."
I looked him up and down. I wouldn't have thought that. But I also wouldn't have thought that the muscular Henri, who had saved me, played the flute in an orchestra.
"And then you don't know the punishment for the law?"
"I'm not particularly interested in the law..," he smiled, "Your turn."
"I am unemployed."
He laughed: "That's not what I meant."
I looked into his brown eyes and a wave of relief washed over me, warming my cold skin. I don't know when anyone ever reacted that way to me being unemployed. Suddenly I was even more aware of his closeness. And wanted to be even closer to him. It took a moment before I could gather a thought again. Far too late I laughed too and frantically thought of another fact.
"Wombat poop is cube-shaped."
He laughed out loud, and it triggered something in me that had been stuck for a long time. Maybe it was him, maybe it was me, or maybe just because it brought more warmth, but we moved even closer together.
I looked at my wristwatch as my stomach growled. We had been playing the game for at least half an hour. I yawned again; it was my turn.
"I'm hungry."
"Strange fact," he smirked before sighing, "me too."
I looked up and searched for Henri's gaze. It didn't take long to find him. He was standing in a group of about six people and was looking at me. His gaze flicked back and forth between me and Eric.
"I'll go ask Henri if there's a plan."
Eric frowned but nodded. His arms pulled the sleeping Frodo closer to him.
My legs felt somewhat weak and I got dizzy as I stood up. Not good, but considering the circumstances... Henri broke away from the group and came towards me.
"You should rest," he murmured, as quietly as he could, "You've lost a lot of blood."
It seemed important to him from the very beginning that no one found out about my injury.
"The boy—"
"Eric." I interrupted him, "And I think he's almost 30, Henri," I laughed.
"What's with him?" he wanted to know.
I looked around and gave Eric a glance. He had turned on his side and closed his eyes.
"Nothing..." I shrugged, "What's with you guys?"
"Touché," Henri smirked and came a bit closer to whisper even quieter, "It might be a bit wiser to keep it a secret anyway."
Henri wanted to keep my wound a secret and now also Eric's panic attack. Slowly, it sank in.
"You mean because it makes him look weak?"
"Yes, the situation on the boat is—"
"Do you think I'm weak?" I had to restrain myself very much to keep my anger in check, not to raise my voice.
"Y/n, it's not about that, I-"
"Or you?" I interrupted him again, "With your broken rib?"
"Y/n," he said seriously, and I knew I had to listen now, even though I would have rather yelled at everyone on the boat. What were they thinking! What was Henri thinking!
"We are all strangers to each other," Henri continued quietly but seriously, "In a strange, life-threatening situation. The dynamic still seems friendly and empathetic. But I don't know if it could shift. In case it does, Eric is a serious threat."
"Then so am I."
"Right. And I, alone, can't get us through with my rib. We rely on the group, so please... just until I'm sure."
"What do you mean?"
"They seem to like my ideas."
"Your ideas are always good.."
He chuckled: "Thanks. As soon as I'm sure they all like my ideas, hold back. I make sure, you can be you. But that needs time."
"And that you can be you. I hardly believe, that anyone here is completly healthy."
He nodded before looking around and taking a bit of distance again. The next topic seemed safe enough.
"Loise knows of an island, just nearby. Maybe it's safe. We want to head there."
I exhaled.
"Loise knows her way around," he turned around and pointed to a small, thin woman with curly dark hair. "She's currently all we have."
"Alright..," I mumbled, nodding, "And food? Have you guys already talked about food?"
"While you were laughing and having fun with Eric?" Henri laughed. I felt the heat in my face.
"We didn't want to be disrespectful. Sorry."
"All good," he laughed, "Everyone survives here in their own way. Water– that's our priority once we reach the island. After that, we'll have to sort everything else out."
"Good..." I murmured, automatically holding my stomach, "Shit."
He nodded slowly and pulled me into his arms, just to whisper quietly into my ear, "And now sit back down before the wound opens up."
I took a deep breath in and out and obeyed.
"Water has priority," I murmured as I sat down next to Eric. He stretched his legs out until his feet touched mine. I wasn't sure. But I was also too tired, too hungry, and too overwhelmed by everything to think further about it – I placed a hand on his feet.
"We're going to an island. Loise knows her way around. As soon as we have water, we can think about food."
"Hm," he just said. His breathing was slow.
"Maybe we'll eat Frodo until we find something else."
Eric just growled and pulled the cat closer to him. I laughed quietly and also closed my eyes.
"Are we safe?" I heard Eric ask quietly.
"We are safe," I murmured, and shortly after, he fell asleep. And sleep came for me too.
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first chapter:
💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 7 · 🫀close🫀 · Summery: y/n (genderneutral) is already on the boat that's leaving new york, when Eric managed to reach the boat
I dreamt I was taking selfies with Joey in a bed and he constantly deleted them cause he thought they were looking like we were kind of in a romantic relationship or so. Chandler hopped on in and we took a few more selfies before we started making out. It was all nice and stuff until Chandler jumped out of the window, fell down 3 levels and broke both of his legs. The scene changed, it was night and a few years later when I stood in front of the same building, Chandler next to me. Now a woman. She wanted to take revenge on Joey and I so fucking didn't know why. Chandler was very sexy though with her bat over the shoulder and a cigarette in her mouth. Dressed in all black.
fandom etiquette as a whole died when people who didn’t grow up on fandoms became stans during lockdown, yes, but why am i seeing people openly mocking fics on twitter. why am i seeing screenshots of fics with captions like “bro what is this 😭.” why am i seeing people mock fic writers for not knowing how sports or theater or college or any other organization operates in the real world.
“college is absolutely nothing like this” “why are we writing four people on the team scoring a hat trick in one game” “so tech work is nothing like this, hope that helps!”
if you don’t like a fic, and if you can’t suspend your belief enough to enjoy a fic that exaggerates or ignores real-world orgs, you don’t have to read it. you don’t have to screenshot it and put it on blast for twitter. you don’t have to post a link to it in the replies. the back button is literally there on your phone. it’s not giving baby’s first fandom anymore, it’s giving entitled asshole and it isn’t as cute as you think it is.
I'm probably asking the nothing but: can you suggest me a brand for a laptop or a tablet I can do my digital art on and write, with a somewhat good quality (and if it exists: that's ethical)?
Summery: y/n (genderneutral)* is already on the boat that's leaving new york, when Eric managed to reach the boat too. All wet and panicky. With a.. cat. He's actually close to a panic attack. And y/n is there to de-escalate the situation.
Warnings: Just human beings being human beings, panic attacks, hurt/comfort I guess?
*Because this is now a multi-chapter story, I had to give y/n a background and character traits and stuff, so y/n is now an OC.
The facts so far: has an anxiety disorder, a family (parents and siblings), a cat, is between 25 and 30 years old and reserved
a/n: so here it comes! The perfectly horrible translation of my german fic "close". Words- what are words. What are sentences? Felt like it, probably delete later. I'm ashamed but anonymous so not that ashamed to use this as practice: tell me what's wrong with it, teach me how to use words. Please. Help.
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We were on the boat for a while now, but his cardigan was still wet. Eric didn't seem to be bothered though. He was busy with other things. He was sitting on the wall of the boat holding the cat tight to himself. With closed eyes he inhaled the air with sharp breaths. Since he assured us, he was fine, he didn't leave his spot. And I didn't take my eyes off him. He slowly slid into a panic attack. It came in waves: the hectic breathing, the shaking and then the calm. The phases of rest were getting shorter, the breathing faster, the shaking more uncontrollable. It was just a matter of time till he wasn't able to stay stable anymore and was going to slip. That couldn't happen! He put us all in danger. Right in that moment the boat was passing a narrow passage. The monsters could have reached us if they heard us. And we would all be dead.
As his wave of fear seemed to be unrelenting, I went over to him, knelt down in front of him, and tapped him on his wet shoulder. He flinched and looked at me in shock. Tears welled up in his brown eyes. I pressed my lips into a thin smile and waved at him to greet him. Mouthed a "Hi". He tried to smile back, but couldn't. The corners of his mouth twitched and finally pulled down.
'I'm y/n.', I introduced myself using sign language. He registered my hand movements and for a moment he frowned in confusion. He didn't understand. Nevertheless I didn't stop.
'You brought a cat?'
He looked at me questioningly.
'A cat?' I asked again and pointed to the pet in his arms.
He nearly smiled and even got one hand off from the fur to copy the sign for 'cat', while nodding.
I smiled and continued, my heart was beating faster in excitement. I had to keep at it! I couldn't loose him now.
'Isn't she a bit loud?'
He was looking at me questioningly again.
'Loud.', I repeated the sign and thought about how I could make him understand. I mimed a roar. I beat my chest like a monkey and played the part from "in the air toinight" on my airdrums, before I repeated the sign again and mouthed the word.
He smiled softly while also repeating the sign and mouthing a word. But it wasn't "loud". Now I was the one in confusion till after the third time I got it.
'Phil Collins.'
He grinned for a moment, and it was making me smile too, before he shook his head and repeated the sign again.
'Not loud', he mouthed and managed to bring up a tired smile. His lips were pale. He was pale. He took a deep, silent breath, while pressing the cat more tightly to his chest. In that moment she seemed to be his anchor. So I turned my attention to her. Held my hand near her face, so she could smell me. I smiled while I watched her putting her head into my palm. And how Eric's arms relaxed a bit. I stroke her head and Eric held her out to me. But before I could have reacted he pressed her back at his chest, the fear was back in his eyes. He was breathing fast. Way too fast. I layed my hands on his arms to show him, that the cat should stay with him.
"It's okay.", I whispered as quietly as I could, automatically reaching for his cheek, "It's okay!"
But it didn't have the effect I hoped for. He shut his eyes, tears ran down his cheeks. His chest rose and fell way too quickly. His body was shaking. And I saw how he fought. It hurt. My hands tried to get in touch with him, reach him, but they didn't find him. As my hand found his chest I felt his heart beating as fast as mine.
'Hang in there, Eric. Hang in there!', I begged silently.
But there it was.
A soft whimper escaped his mouth.
Soon he would cry out loud.
Hastily, without thinking further, I moved as close to him as I could, reached for his neck and pulled him to me. Smothered his tears on my shoulder. I felt him shaking under his sobs, how he tried to hold them back.
I took a look around me. We almost passed through the narrow passage. We were almost through! Just a few seconds longer!
"Let it go.", I mumbled as soon as we were safe. He exhaled with a trembling sound before another sob escaped his throat. But this time unhindered. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Closed my burning eyes. Pushed away his feelings from me. I did everything to calm down my heart for him. And it worked.
He leaned his forehead against my shoulder for a while longer, and cried. It sounded as if he was letting out years of pent-up grief, fear and anger all at once. It took everything of me not to cry with him. Not to feel with him. My hand in his back was trembling slightly. I patiently endured our feelings until he was calming down. Until his muscles relaxed more and more.
"Hi Eric.", I said quietly, "I'm y/n."
"Hi.", He managed to say, I still heard the tears in his voice. A shiver run down my spine.
"I would like to sink into the ground right now.", he mumbled without leaving his spot on my shoulder, without looking at me.
I smiled as I pushed him away from me, as soft as I could! Just to look into those brown, sad, tired eyes.
"I'm sorry, but we are on a boat."
I didn't know if he was laughing at my bad joke because he thought it was funny or if he just pretended to make me feel better. But no matter what it was- it made my heart leap.
I dreamt John Krasinski and me were friends but secretly in love. We avoided being alone with or touch each other. But then we were on a group trip and there was a moment, we both laughed and I reached over to him, sort of leaned into him and his laugh and smile dropped and we instantly got away from each other. The next scene was us in- and I kid you not- one bed. There was just one bed, yes! And we tried to not touch each other, cause we knew, we couldn't handle the emotions. Then my dream me woke up in the morning and he was still asleep, hugging me. And then I woke up, with an "Oh". I just realised in that moment, after years of watching the office every winter (it's my winter show, don't ask), that John Krasinski is... Cute? Hot?
I'm trying to translate one of my german fics into english but it feels like I'm 12 again doing my homework. It SUCKS. I'm pretty sure a lot of those sentences don't make sense. And I don't get it because I understand english just fine but when it comes to using it? To create.. flowy sentences, beautiful stories? Nope.. fuck that.
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