Anxiety is the worst. Basil feels tight-chested, drawn into themself like they can’t possibly expand out again. It’s not really who they are, normally, but the circumstances are far from the norm right now, and all they can fucking think about is how their only options are to sleep on the ground outside somewhere, or brave the tent with a total stranger. It’s not good for them. They rarely even sleep around the people they’re close to for fear of what will come out whilst their eyes are shut, so why would they want to do it with somebody they don’t even know? Their cheeks are tinged pink with the chill of the night, one of Ari’s hoodies draped over their body. They wish they had something besides the little jeans shorts they’d been wearing all day on, but unfortunately they hadn’t had the forethought for that. Their legs are cold -- all of them is cold -- and they aren’t sure where they’re going, but they hope they end up somewhere nice.
It’s when they’re half-way to the lakeside again -- the most soothing part of all of this, if one were to ask them -- that they take their phone out from the pocket, ignoring the feeling of their glass bowl still nestled in there, as well as the tin with their smoke in it. They quickly unlock it, going to their texts to tap out a message to the only person they can think of, their head full up of a need for comfort, for some kind of stability. They know they’re a fragile person. They know it. It’s just... Rare that they have to admit it.
[ SENT TO DAHLIA DEAR AT 2:37 AM ]: hey, are you up?? could you meet me by the lake... need you
/ @botners.
