Rook Hunt x reader who struggles with basic hygiene bcs of depression pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls
Him with a depressed!reader who's been struggling with basic hygiene
Featuring: Rook Hunt
A/N: hope ur doing ok pookie!! Feel free to reach out and talk if you ever want to 💗💗 tho beware I'm shit at comforting- though I'll gladly listen ❤️🩹
rook notices long before you realize he has. that's simply the sort of person he is. he notices details others overlook, tiny changes in habits and routines that most people would never think twice about. at first, it's little things. your hair isn't brushed as often as it used to be. you seem to avoid your reflection whenever possible. there are days when you look exhausted before classes have even begun. the changes are subtle enough that nobody comments on them, but rook quietly files them away. more importantly, he notices the way you carry yourself. the way your shoulders seem heavier than they once were. the way your smiles come a little slower. the way even simple tasks appear to drain you. he doesn't jump to conclusions, nor does he immediately confront you. instead, he watches with growing concern as the weeks pass. eventually, a pattern begins to emerge. you aren't neglecting yourself because you don't care. you're struggling because everything seems difficult right now, including the things that used to be easy.
the thing rook never does is make you feel embarrassed about it. he doesn't point out your appearance in front of others. he doesn't ask uncomfortable questions when you're clearly not ready to answer them. instead, he begins helping in small, almost invisible ways. he keeps spare hair ties with him because you've mentioned losing yours before. if the two of you are studying together and he notices you've forgotten to bring water, somehow a glass appears beside you before you even realize you're thirsty. when he recommends products or routines, he frames them as things he personally enjoys rather than things you should be doing. every gesture is carefully designed to avoid making you feel judged. at first, you don't think much of it. then one day you realize he's been quietly supporting you for weeks without expecting recognition for it. somehow that realization makes your chest ache. because it's one thing to struggle in silence. it's another thing entirely to discover that someone noticed and chose kindness instead of criticism.
the conversation happens after a particularly difficult day. you've spent hours forcing yourself through classes while feeling completely drained. by the time you find yourself sitting beside rook, you're running on fumes. the two of you are talking as usual, or rather, rook is talking while you occasionally contribute a comment here and there. eventually he pauses in the middle of a story and studies you for a moment. there's no judgment in his gaze. no disappointment. just concern. when he gently remarks that you seem tired, you immediately try to brush it off with a joke. the response comes automatically, the same way it always does whenever someone gets too close to the truth. usually it works. this time, however, rook simply smiles. not because the joke was funny, but because he recognizes it for what it is. a shield. the realization makes your stomach twist. suddenly you're aware of how exhausted you are. how tired you are of pretending you're okay. how tired you are of feeling guilty for struggling with things that seem so simple for everyone else.
when the truth finally slips out, it happens all at once. you admit that you're struggling. that some days even basic tasks feel impossible. that there are moments when brushing your hair or taking a shower feels like climbing a mountain. the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and the second they do, shame immediately follows. you stare at the floor, waiting for him to look uncomfortable. waiting for him to tell you to try harder. waiting for some sign that he thinks less of you now. instead, rook moves a little closer. not enough to crowd you, just enough to remind you that he's there. he listens without interrupting. he listens without trying to immediately solve the problem. most importantly, he listens without making you feel like you've failed somehow. when he finally speaks, his voice is gentle. he tells you that struggling does not make you weak. that there is no shame in finding things difficult when you're carrying so much. that surviving difficult periods of your life is an accomplishment in itself. the words hit harder than you expect. before you know it, tears are slipping down your face. embarrassingly enough, you can't seem to stop them. rook doesn't appear bothered in the slightest. if anything, he looks relieved. as though he's glad you're finally allowing someone else to see how much you're hurting.
after that, things don't magically become easy. recovery rarely works that way. there are still difficult mornings. there are still days when everything feels overwhelming. the difference is that you're no longer facing those days alone. rook continues helping in the quiet ways he always has. he celebrates small victories without making them feel insignificant. if you manage to take care of yourself after struggling for days, he treats it as a genuine achievement because he knows how much effort it required. he never compares your progress to anyone else's. he never makes you feel like you're falling behind. instead, he reminds you that healing isn't a race. some days all you can do is survive, and that's enough. on one particularly difficult evening, after you've spent the entire day fighting through exhaustion just to accomplish a few simple tasks, rook pulls you into a gentle embrace. you instinctively begin apologizing for being difficult, for needing support, for not getting better fast enough. the words barely leave your mouth before he shakes his head. he carefully takes your hands in his and tells you that caring for you has never been a burden. that your worth is not determined by your productivity. that you deserve kindness on your worst days just as much as your best ones. by the time he presses a soft kiss against your forehead, you're crying again, but for once the tears don't feel quite as heavy. for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to lean against him and simply rest. and rook, patient as ever, stays right there beside you.
