You aren't actually sure if it's okay.
That's fine, they tell you. No one's okay, especially not after what happened.
Orange eyes flicker in the back of your mind, and suppressing your shivers, you nod.
You looked into what you were experiencing - "blackouts after traumatic experiences". Nothing seems to fit. The timeline doesn't add up.
You're exhausted on a late night and want nothing more than to collapse into Sasha's arms, and for a moment nothing short of revulsion pulses through you, forcing you to hesitate before it fades away again.
You fall asleep working on a school assignment and wake up from a tangerine-tinted dream with it finished.
You say and do things that feel normal in the moment, then minutes later realize they're completely out of character.
And your nightmares have been getting worse.
You slip out of bed one night, even as exhaustion clings to your aching bones, and sit outside, staring blankly into the distance as your head races with binary code.
You blink, startled, and straighten your back with a little crack. It's just Sasha, standing behind you in the open doorway, her face creased in worry.
You don't say anything, finding that your voice is lost, and pat the place on the bench beside you. Though the motion is supposed to welcome the blonde to come sit beside you, it feels robotic and unnatural.
Sasha obliges, though her expression doesn't change, nose still scrunched up in concern. She reaches to rub your shoulders - something that often brings you comfort - and you flinch back. She quickly lowers her hands, deciding to put them in her lap.
You pause, then nod. "...Something like that, yes."
"You wanna talk about it?"
Your hands instinctively curl into fists around an invisible staff, and you force them to relax.
Instead of answering her question, you turn your eyes back into the night, where the city beyond Anne's apartment lays sprawled out, lights glittering in windows and cars rushing below.
The use of a singular pronoun tastes wrong in your mouth, but you don't want to scare the girl sitting beside you.
"I don't think it's gone."
