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IRL!
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↳ ❝I THINK I FUCKED EVERYTHING UP.❞

In the hushed confines of the therapist's office, Lovette perched on the edge of the plush chair, her fingers delicately tracing a pattern on her trembling hands. The remnants of her nightmare still lingered in her mind. The memories, vivid and raw, replayed as if etched into her very being. She could almost smell the metallic tang of her mother's blood, feel the weight of it staining her figure skating sweater. Her hands seemed to bear an imagined residue, heavy with an invisible crimson flow. In a desperate attempt to stifle the rising turmoil within, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to relax.

"They're back," Lovette murmured vaguely, her voice barely above a whisper, as she opened her eyes, searching for any flicker of response from her therapist.

Dr. Florence, ever attentive, observed the girl's nervous fidgeting, her fingers tracing the arm of the sofa like an anxious dance. "Who is back?" the therapist inquired gently.

"Not who—what," Lovette corrected, her gaze momentarily falling to the coffee table that stood as a barrier between her and Dr. Florence. "My nightmares. They're back."

Curiosity mingled with concern on Dr. Florence's face as she leaned forward, eager to understand the depths of Lovette's distress. "When did you start experiencing these nightmares?" she probed.

The younger girl shrugged, her vulnerability evident in the slight tremor of her voice. "Ever since the accident. I just started staying up really late so I could just pass out of exhaustion so my brain would be too tired to dream."

Dr. Florence's expression softened, her empathetic eyes meeting Lovette's. "How often were you resorting to that?"

"Almost every day," Lovette confessed, her admission a fragile testament to the profound impact of her nightly torment.

A somber silence settled over the room as Dr. Florence absorbed Lovette's words, her gaze lingering on the delicate lines etched upon the girl's weary face. Then, breaking the stillness, she gently probed further, seeking insight into the recent resurgence of Lovette's nightmares.

"I was with someone," Lovette began, her voice trembling with vulnerability, "and I fell asleep while watching a movie. That's when it happened."

Despite her gratitude for the presence of Chris, who had managed to rouse her from the nightmarish abyss, Lovette remained paralyzed by an overwhelming dread that prevented her from embracing sleep. Instead, she resorted to the temporary relief offered by energy drinks, her desperation for wakefulness eclipsing any consideration for the toll it was taking on her well-being.

Concern etched deep lines on Dr. Florence's forehead as she fixated on the exhaustion etched upon Lovette's face, the heavy bags under her eyes speaking volumes about her sleepless nights. "When was the last time you actually slept?" she inquired, her voice carrying a tinge of horror.

Lovette hesitated, her gaze averted, before quietly admitting, "I want to say since Saturday."

A gasp escaped Dr. Florence's lips, her shock at Lovette's prolonged deprivation evident. "It's Monday," she uttered in disbelief, her worry cascading like a rising tide.

With a glimmer of defensiveness, Lovette attempted to downplay the severity of her condition. "Delirium doesn't usually set in until another day," she assured, her attempt to justify her self-imposed insomnia betraying her fear of surrendering to the vulnerability of sleep.

Dr. Florence's brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and frustration playing across her features. "Are you seriously rationalizing sleep deprivation?" she queried, her voice laden with a blend of compassion and exasperation, as she recognized the depth of Lovette's struggle and the urgent need to navigate through it.

Dr. Florence leaned forward, her posture conveying a sense of urgency and genuine care. She recognized the critical nature of Lovette's sleep deprivation and the toll it was taking on her physical and mental well-being. With a gentle yet firm tone, she addressed Lovette's rationalization, determined to guide her towards a healthier path.

"Lovette, I understand your fear and the trauma that's resurfacing through these nightmares. But depriving yourself of sleep is not a sustainable solution," Dr. Florence emphasized, her voice filled with empathy. "Sleep is a crucial aspect of our well-being, allowing our minds and bodies to heal and rejuvenate. By denying yourself that rest, you're only exacerbating the distress you're experiencing."

Lovette's eyes flickered with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, her hands gripping the edges of the chair as if seeking some semblance of stability. Dr. Florence continued, her words gentle but unwavering.

"You need to confront these nightmares and process the emotions associated with the accident. Running away from them won't make them disappear. It's understandable that they're terrifying, but facing them in a controlled and supported environment can help you regain a sense of control and move forward."

"I'm scared," Lovette admitted in a whisper, her voice laden with vulnerability.

Dr. Florence met Lovette's gaze with unwavering compassion. "I understand your fear, Lovette. Confronting traumatic experiences is undoubtedly challenging, but it's a necessary step towards healing."

She paused, allowing her words to settle before continuing. "I strongly recommend having someone close to you monitor your sleep. Establish a relaxing pre-sleep ritual that signals your body and mind that it's time to unwind."

Lovette nodded, considering the suggestion. The idea of having someone watch over her sleep felt comforting, knowing that she wouldn't be alone in facing the daunting nights ahead.

As the therapy session drew to a close, Dr. Florence emphasized, "For your own sanity and my peace of mind— take a nap."

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Chris clutched his phone tightly, his fingers hovering hesitantly over the screen. He had rehearsed the words in his mind a thousand times, yet the nervous energy coursing through him refused to subside. With each passing moment, his thoughts circled back to the kiss, its lingering sweetness replaying in his mind like a melody. He knew he had to make the call, to invite Lovette to the party, but the weight of his feelings weighed heavily on his trembling fingertips.

Summoning a surge of courage, he pressed the call button, the sound of ringing echoing in his ears, amplifying his anticipation. One ring. Two rings. Then, the line connected, and Lovette's sweet voice greeted him on the other end.

"Hey Chris," her voice resonated, and unconsciously, a small smile tugged at the corners of Chris' lips.

"Hi, Lovie," Chris started, his voice laced with a hint of nervousness. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

Lovette's response was a soft hum, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Chris steadied himself, determined to convey his invitation with clarity. "Matt's girlfriend, Leanna, is throwing a party. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

In that moment, the unspoken words lingered on the tip of his tongue, wanting to declare Lovette as his date. Yet, something held him back, a subtle hesitation, and he opted to await her response.

"Yeah, I'll go with you," Lovette's voice came through, a mixture of affirmation and anticipation, stirring a glimmer of hope within Chris.

And so it was that Chris found himself stepping into Leanna's kitchen, Lovette by his side. As they entered, he noticed only two people occupying the space—Matt and Leanna. Leanna's eyes lit up as they landed on Lovette, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Leanna, this is my friend, Lovette. Lovette, this is Leanna," Chris introduced.

Leanna's face lit up, extending a warm smile towards Lovette. "Hi! It's nice to meet you," she greeted, exuding genuine warmth and hospitality.

Lovette reciprocated the gesture, "Nice to meet you too," she replied. "Would you mind showing me where the bathroom is?"

Leanna shook her head. "Yeah, no problem," she responded, and the two girls gracefully exited the kitchen, engrossed in conversation.

Once the girls were out of earshot, Matt raised an eyebrow, a glimmer in his eyes. His expression carried a playful skepticism as he prodded Chris. "'Friend'?" he questioned, drawing out the word, his tone laced with gentle teasing. "You've kissed her, and you've been hanging out almost every day."

Chris winced, a pang of guilt reverberating through him. He felt the weight of his slip-up and the discrepancy between his words and actions. "It just slipped out," he admitted.

Matt tilted his head, a knowing smile dancing on his lips. "How many people have you introduced her to as 'friend'?" he inquired, his curiosity laced with a touch of incredulity.

Chris's discomfort intensified, his confession accompanied by a tinge of disbelief. "I want to say six..." he revealed, his eyes searching for reassurance from his brother. The slight surprise on Matt's face did little to assuage his growing concerns. "I think I fucked everything up."

A moment of silence enveloped them as Matt paused, recognizing the weight of Chris's turmoil. He chose his words carefully, aiming to provide comfort amidst the uncertainty. "You don't really know that," he offered, his voice laced with empathy. Matt sensed Chris's frustration and fear of losing something precious. "Talk to her about it. You might be projecting."

Chris let out a frustrated sigh, the burden of uncertainty weighing heavily upon him. "What do you mean?" he questioned, a mix of desperation and self-doubt colouring his voice.

Matt shrugged, a gesture of nonchalance mixed with wisdom. "Maybe deep down, you're upset that you introduced her as a friend. And maybe you're projecting that feeling onto Lovette," he explained, drawing his knowledge from Leanna's psychological studies at college. "Seriously, just have an open conversation with her."

As if on cue, the girls reentered the kitchen, their laughter filling the space. Matt reached out to take Leanna's hand, a silent gesture of support, while Lovette settled beside Chris. As they made their way out of the kitchen, Matt mouthed the words 'talk to her' before disappearing from view.

Chris took a deep breath, summoning the courage to untangle his thoughts and express his feelings. "I'm not really good at this," he confessed, a touch of vulnerability seeping into his voice.

"Good at what?" Lovette inquired, her curiosity mingled with a hint of apprehension.

"Were you upset when I introduced you to people as my friend?" Chris asked, his words revealing a hint of uncertainty and self-doubt.

Her eyes softened at Chris's words, the consideration taking her by surprise. She reached out and gently placed her hand on his, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"Not really," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "We haven't really talked about it. I didn't want to rush or pressure you." Pausing for a moment, she continued, "Did you think I was upset?"

Chris exhaled, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding his senses. "I wasn't sure," he admitted, his voice laced with honesty. "Like I said, I'm not really good at this."

A conflicted expression played across Chris's face as he absorbed her words. He longed for the ease and clarity of knowing what felt natural, but his commitment issues had created a fog of uncertainty that made it difficult to discern the right path.

"Just do what feels natural," Lovette advised, her voice tender and caring, her eyes searching his.

The only issue was that Chris had no idea what that truly entailed. His heart ached with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, each one tugging him in a different direction. The fear of commitment gripped him tightly, its suffocating hold amplifying the torment within. The idea of being in a relationship haunted his every thought, whispering tales of broken promises and shattered trust.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

everything is good... for now!

do you guys like the therapy scenes? just curious!

this is so me with this lovie! fic 😭:

until next time <3!