* godcreates / connor murphy !
connor doesn’t know how to describe his head. maybe it’s like a maze with thick green fences and this heavy fog that’s always, always kept him going ‘round and ‘round. or maybe it’s just like an abandoned city covered with high walls that connor can never climb to get through it. but he knows it’s messy. and it’s uncoordinated and there’re rarely ever a happy ending to this fucked-up thing they called his mental illness, and - and whenever he gets deep into it, startling him out from it has - it never ends well. so when zoe’s voice got through, connor’s quick to defend : body flinching backwards, arms almost flying out to attack first. apart of him is sorry, sorry that he’s born this way, sorry that he can’t be better even if he wants to ( so so so much ) but the anger is familiar and quick when it manifests, pushing connor to bare his teeth, growling. like an animal.
❛ didn’t i fucking tell you to go away? DIDN’T I ?! ❜ fuck, fuck. he hates this. why is zoe even here? didn’t he tell her to go? he did, didn’t he? so why is she still here? what is she trying to do?! GOD, IS SHE TRYING TO GET HERSELF KILLED!? fuck, fuck. wipe away those damn tears, connor. get your grip together. she’s just trying to help — NO. she can’t help. nobody can. because he’s just so — look at him. look at how messed up he is. fuck. and he wasn’t even trying to do anything, jesus. he was just upset about something some fucking footballer said earlier and when he tried to take his medication, he just coincidentally dropped all of his pills. fuck. even when he’s trying to get better, he’s a fucking screw-up. great. fantastic. why isn’t he dead already? ❛ DO YOU FUH - FUCKING — FUCKING WANT ME — TO HUH - HURT YOU?! ❜
fuck, fuck - stop, connor. crawl back, wipe those damn fucking tears. stop goddamn sobbing.
CHILLING FEAR courses through her body at how volatile her brother is becoming & it’s heartbreaking . the same fear that made zoe remain passive & idle probably contributed to her brother’s suicide & it did nothing but melt a hole down the pit of her stomach . what if she actually tried to get along with him than continuously screaming at him ? would he have not been found at the park with the bottle of pills stolen from the medicine cabinet ?
come on , zoe . swallow your fear . help your brother . god , the voice almost sounds like her mother . . . or is it her own ? like if she could tell . hard lump lodged in throat is swallowed , she’s desperately commanding her brain to send signal to her legs to unglue themselves from his floor & just walk up to him . deep breaths & she’s walking towards the dragon , her sword nothing but slender arms gingerly wrapping around his form ( she knows she could get physically hurt ) but it doesn’t scare her .
❝ c’mon , come here let’s get you to sit down . ❞ she’s picking fragments off the floor literally him & the broken emotional pieces of him off the floor & gently leads him to her bed . physical contact breaks to not overwhelm him ( as long as he was next to her ) & lips start to move & shaky tune of a song dribbles from lips like a stuttering broken record aiming to bring some tranquil solace to her volatile brother .
