kitty and reader who is dealing with a bad bout of depression? just like trying to be there for her and trying to get her out so she feels better?
Hey Nonnie!
Here’s a little shot for you. I hope this brings a smile to your face. Let me know what you think. Please know that I am always here for you. I have depression too and I can totally empathize with how it feels. I’m happy to take anon asks from you or however you want to communicate.
If things get bad, please make sure you get help. 1-800-273-8255 is a free and confidential Suicide Hotline here in the US. You can reach out and I can help you find other resources if need be. The world is a dark place sometimes, but better with you in it.
It’s happened again. The long, dark fingers of your subconscious worm their way thick into your brain. The subtle signs were there, but you’ve been so busy that they’ve gone unnoticed. Before you know it, you’re deep in a depressive episode and you’re unsure of how to find your way out. Your therapist is trying to help, you’re actually remembering to take your medicine, but it seems as if, like a virus, you’ll have to ride this one out.
Kylo comes creeping into the bedroom one morning (is it morning? The slanting sun through the curtains says that it is not, that it’s early afternoon). He tip toes, ears perked, listening for your stirring. On a tray he’s got the only sustenance you’ll consume, a ghastly mix of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and snack cakes with a super sweet Snapple to wash it all down. He’s tried feeding you soup, tried making any and all of your favorite meals, by to no avail. You hear the light clunk of him placing the tray on your bedside table and peel one bleary eye open.
“Hi Kitten,” he says softly, guarded. Kylo has tried desperately to not overstep his bounds, to help and be supportive as much as he can. You’ve rebuffed almost every attempt that he’s made so far, but the sight of him today brings a glimmer of light to the darkness in your mind. Raising yourself up on one arm you push greasy chunks of hair back from your face and pull a tight smile at him. “Hey.”
“I brought you a snack,” he whispers. His yellow eyes are concerned, his black eyebrows knitting together on his furrowed forehead. From behind him you can see his long tail swishing, a moving shadow following it along the floor, You sit upright and pull the blanket off of you to scootch to the edge of the bed. You can smell your own body odor in your nostrils and it makes you wrinkle your nose in disgust. Just one more thing to make you feel bad about yourself…
Picking up the sandwich you take a small bite, seeing if your delicate stomach will tolerate the sticky peanut butter. There have been days where you can’t even eat this. But Kylo is patient, taking the tray away, smiling when you shake your head no. Today it seems as if your stomach is ok with the sandwich so you wash it down with some of the Snapple, it’s icy chill drawing a line down your esophagus to your empty stomach.
“Did work call?” You ask hesitantly. Kylo shakes his head. “No,” he responds gently, “I called you in for the week and your therapist faxed over a note. You’re ok for now.” You lower your head, placing it in your cupped palms, a ragged sigh coming out of you. Kylo lowers himself to sit beside you on the bed and softly rubs the shoulder nearest him. “Is this ok?” He asks. You nod and he continues. His touch is reassuring, comforting. You didn’t realize it, but you needed it.
“Ug…” you rasp, your sleep thick voice barely making it out of your lips. “What they must think of me…” tears prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to tumble their way out and down your cheeks. You sniff, trying to hold them back. Crying, right now, seems as if it will just serve to make you feel worse.
“They’ll think that you’re sick and you needed some time to recover, that’s what they’ll think,” Kylo responds, his voice firm but kind. “Because that’s what’s happening.” Hesitantly he pulls you closer, wanting, needing to hold you. You nod and he does so, pulling you into press against his strong chest, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair.
“Uck…” you say, trying to pull back. Kylo does not let up, pulling you in even tighter. “Shhhh,” he coos. “I don’t care.”
You sit like that for a while, listening to the steady beat of Kylo’s heart in your ear. It feels good, finally, to be held and be close to him. A sharp knot twists in your stomach as you realize how unresponsive you’ve been to his affections recently. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, the fabric of Kylo’s t-shirt brushing against your lips as they form the words.
“For what?” He asks, again patient, kind. The low rumble of his purr begins in his throat and your muscles soften, letting the slow vibration of his purr wash over you and through you.
“For not being the girlfriend you want,” you mumble. The tears are threatening again, but Kylo just wraps himself around you tighter, pulling you down to the bed where he can spoon you, his long leg draped over your hip. His tail brushes against your bare leg every so often as it swishes back and forth and his big hands with their thick fingers open and close against the skin of your arms, kneading you like a baby kitten.
“That’s not the case at all,” he says into your ear, his breath tickling you there. “I love you regardless. I’m here for it all. The good, and the bad. I want to be here. You’re exactly the girlfriend I want.”
A sob hitches in your throat, but it isn’t a sob of sadness, its one of gratitude. For this man, for his acceptance of you, even at your lowest. A light, scratchy flick against your neck as he gently grooms you, just a bit, just to try to soothe you. You snuggle back against him and sigh again, but this one is softer, less weighted with your uncontrollable emotions.
“Thank you,” you respond simply. For the first time in days, your brain is silent. For the moment, it has refrained from telling you what an awful and worthless person you are. You try to enjoy the silence because you know that it may not last for very long. “How long has it been since I showered,” you ask, your own aroma hitting your nose again as you shift slightly, stretching the muscles of your back.
“It doesn’t matter, Kitten,” Kylo responds kindly. But suddenly you’re itching to take a shower, to stop smelling yourself, even though a part of you knows that Kylo likes it or just doesn’t care. You pull away from him and sit up, your head swimming for a moment. Taking another bite of your sandwich and another sip of your drink, you clear your throat.
“I think I’m going to take one now,” you announce, your voice sounding louder and braver than you had intended. Kylo sits up alongside of you and nods, looking into your eyes with his yellow ones.
“Would you like some help, Kitten?” He asks. You nod silently and he stands, his enormous height towering over you, and offers you his hand to help you up. You rise to your feet delicately, your tight muscles pulling you back in protest but you push on. Kylo leads you into the bathroom and pulls out a fluffy towel for you, helping you out of your shorts and t-shirt and starting the water.
Once the water is the temperature you prefer, Kylo pulls his shirt over his head, his black curls obscuring his cat ears for just a moment until he shakes his hair back in place. Pulling off his jeans he takes your hand again, leading you into the tub for your shower. Stepping in behind you he picks up the soap and shower floof you like and works it into a soapy later. “Turn around, Kitten,” he says and you comply.
The scratchiness of the floof feels good on the skin of your back as he massages it over your body. He cross his arm across your chest and rubs the lather in there as well, and once your whole body has been scrubbed thoroughly, he rinses your skin squeaky clean. Next he has you turn to face him, extending your neck so he can wash your hair with the sweet smelling shampoo you use. He digs his strong fingers into your scalp and you can feel some of the pain of your existence washing away with the lather. Combing conditioner through your locks, Kylo takes a break from washing you and suds himself up, rinsing quickly. He skips his hair, although its plastered to his scalp as his ears flick with the patter of the water hitting them from the shower head. He smiles softly, lifting your chin slightly and rinses the conditioner from your hair, leaving it silky smooth. When he’s finished he turns off the stream and steps out, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you.
“C'mon, Kitten,” he says, coaxing you out of the tub. You set foot on the shower mat and he rubs you dry with the towel. Leading you back into the bedroom he pulls warm pajamas over your head and legs, placing your slippers on your feet. You take a seat on the edge of the bed again and blink, taking in the low light of the room and the piles of clothing that have gathered all over. Soon you will have to tackle these, although you know Kylo has been doing as much and taking care of as much as he can.
“Kylo,” you mewl, your voice soft, maybe a bit pleading. He turns, his crooked grin tugging at your heart. “Yes my love?” He asks.
“I may be a bit hungry,” you respond. Kylo smiles wider and nods his head. “Is there anything in particular you would like?” He asks. You know he’ll cook you anything you ask for, but right now your tastes are plain and you just want food,
“Pasta and butter?” You venture. Kylo smiles again, nodding. “Sure!” He says brightly, “do you think you may want to sit on the couch for a while? Maybe watch some TV with me?” You nod and follow him out. He sits you in your spot and wraps a thick blanket around you, making sure your feet are tucked in so they’re kept warm. Placing a gentle kiss on top of your head he inhales the clean scent of your hair.
“One bowl of pasta and butter,” he says, “coming right up.” As your eyes follow him out on his way into the kitchen a single tear rolls its way down your cheek. Kylo is supportive and you know, with this and his gentle, loving kindness, you’ll be able to climb out of the pit and into the light once again.
