i actually remember doing a couple of prompts like this!! theyre rly fun tho, see below for updated version (w/o rereading the old ones… its way more fun to be chaotic)

OLD PROMPTS: x / x

Neil wakes up, and the morning fucking sucks. 

He’s not used to feeling like this anymore. He didn’t realise he knew how hope felt until it was gone.

But habit’s a strong creature. Stronger than he is, for sure. So he gets up, he has some fruit and a drink, and he goes for a run.

It’s exhausting. Every step feels harder than it should. It feels like he’s still running from Nathaniel, and no matter how many times he replays the image of watching him die… it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t get easier. He almost feels heavier from it.

So he takes a break. The break is worse. Without the metronome of footsteps, he doesn’t have any reprieve from his thoughts. He runs back.

When he reaches Palmetto, he thinks he should breathe a sigh of relief, and he tries it out, but his chest just feels over-full and releasing it makes him feel a bit nauseated. Water pricks at the edges of his eyes - nothing but allergies, it is Spring, after all - and he takes the elevator up to their floor.

He enters, trying to modulate his breathing so as not to disturb the light sleepers he shares a room with, and ends up on the floor, not even a foot from the door. Fuck it. If him leaving doesn’t wake them up, his return isn’t going to make a difference.

Time doesn’t pass, but maybe it does. His breathing doesn’t change, or it gets faster, or it gets slower. His father bleeds out but doesn’t die. Neil’s (Nathaniel?) bleeding or he isn’t. He’s screaming but he’s silent. Neil knows he’s sitting in silence and he should do something, anything, to break himself free. Bee’s voice is there but distant; all he can do is regulate his breathing. Maybe. 

There’s a hand on his face, and for some reason it’s damp. Neil looks up into hazel eyes.

“Is that my shirt?” Andrew says as though he’s been awake for hours. As though being sat in the doorway is a completely normal thing.

Neil can’t look down. He doesn’t know how to answer.

“Sweating in someone else’s clothes isn’t polite,” Andrew chides. His grip is almost too tight. It’s something to focus on - a pain that isn’t quite; an anchor that reminds him of a tolerable, if unpleasant, truth.

“Don’t leave them on the floor, then,” Neil says, forcing his voice beyond a rasp.

Andrew releases him and stands up. “You need a shower.”

“Thanks,” Neil replies, even though he knows it’s true.

“Come on,” Andrew says and leads the way without looking back.

send me a 4 word prompt [with / without a pairing]