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if trees could talk what would you talk to one about?

Interesting question, anon… I think I’d talk to them about how old they are and what they’ve seen, like some LOTR’s kind of stuff. Because trees must be old so they gotta know shit.

Also, would they be chill if their body was used to make hardback copies of Escapade?

#anon #nice question #idk tbf

Just let the pain remind you hearts can heal || Self para

Andy was more informed on things than people thought. He was aware that another cupboard in the Infirmary was where Emilie held her private stash of alcoholic beverages. He'd spent enough time in their to watch and take note of everyone's movements, including hers. Replacing the empty med bottle back into the cupboard, he quietly closed the doors to, turning on his heel, keeping his face so stern, heading for the next. Andy ripped out two of the largest bottles, kicking the cupboard shut, heading for the garden. He needed fresh air with the alcohol and the meds, seeming he thought the cool air would make both the pills and alcohol hit him quicker. His logic wasn't quite with him, not now.

His phone kept buzzing, two people trying to work out his whereabouts since his behaviour had been broadcast around the asylum. He thought he had been careful, no one seeing him how he was, to leave him do as he needed alone. But Andy continued to reply, his answers not making complete sense to the questions asked. Between replies, he drank heavily from each bottle, his thoughts becoming more slow and dysfunctional He waited for what seemed hours, wondering if they would find him. His friend Ashley did just that, sitting by him, mocking Andy almost for how he was. It was like Ashley assumed he was just drunk, drowning his sorrows. How wrong was he? Andy lowered his head heavily, his eyes struggling to keep open, his movements sloppy. Next thing Andy knew, he was being carried bridal style by a mumbling Ashley. Or he thought he was mumbling anyway.

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His stomach felt wretched, his whole self hurt. He couldn't control the sudden lurches his body started to do, the vile feeling of being out of control becoming severely evident to him. He didn't know where he was, but the lighting was again bright, and he worked out he was laying down. Or he had been. Andy threw up over himself, his head throbbing, throat burning as he did. He wasn't aware of who was with him, but small, muffled sounds came from the end of where he was lying. He fell back, feeling a small weight being placed on his chest, held so close to his face. It blocked the light out, which his pulsating head was grateful for. Once again, he threw up, his body soon giving up on thrashing, his head plunging to the side. He felt gross. He laid quietly, frowning a little, trying to deal with the pains his body made him feel. It was as if his whole self was disciplining him for his selfish actions, reminding him what he did, to make himself feel guilty for them.

A light pressure was felt on his hand, a warm sensation shooting down his arm. At first he thought it was Katy, but his mind once again told him it couldn't be, that she wasn't with them anymore. He attempted to reach out for whoever it was, his fingers outstretched the best they could trying to grip the other's hand. His face creased a touch as he concentrated so hard on trying to keep the grip, knowing he was failing. His ears tried to decipher who was talking to him, the sounds clearing almost. It took a while, but he heard Emilie, using her soothing voice to him. He appreciated her for that. Also, he sensed a bundle being put by his side, a wiggling one that tried to get in close to him. He knew immediately it was his tiny daughter, snuggling in for his warmth. Knowing she was well allowed him to drift off into an uneasy sleep, but sleep none the less.

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Groaning, Andy brought himself round. His head still beat, like he could feel his pulse in his skull. He wanted to sit up, to rub his eyes, to stretch, but his body wouldn't allow. That's when he panicked. He remembered falling asleep with Daenerys by him, and now she was gone. He groaned some more, a failed attempt at a call out, his energy zapped from his body as it had been rejecting what he had taken. He coughed a little, wincing as he did, his throat so sore from the retching the previous night. He brought his hand up to his throat, but got tangled in the wires coming from his chest. He looked down slowly, his face screwed up once again, trying to work out what was going on. He pulled one off from him, inspecting it carefully, then tugged at another, removing them all in turn. He turned his head to the other side, seeing Katy in the same state as he was, hooked up to monitors. He watched the pulse line on the screen, eyes narrowing as he tried to focus on the numbers the screen displayed. His head couldn't comprehend, but he knew the beeping, rather than continuous sound meant she was alive.

He wanted to leave his bed, he wanted to lie beside Katy. His dire need to stroke her hair, kiss her forehead as he normally used to do bit down into him. He was desperate to, it was his natural thing to do, comfort his love in her time of need. His body lurched back so he laid flat, the realisation of his selfishness belting him and his acts replaying in his head. Never had he lapsed before, and the idea of it caused him to burst. He felt weak, so why not show it? Tears fell once more down his face.

How could you do it Andy? Daenerys needs you just as much as Katy. What the Hell did you do?

#para #self para #kind of trigger i guess #idk tbf