forum Love, Brain, Heart, Control, Caffeinate! m e l a t o n i n (0/1 players)

Started October 24, 2022 by Deleted user

tune

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(Lol chill. I actually came up with an idea for that as I was reading Florian’s sheet. Maybe Florian’s father and Efraim’s father knew each other, and Efraim’s father was hired to paint portraits for the Bennet family (cuz he was also an artist and taught Efraim how to paint and stuff)? Idk

(Okay! Sure! And then Florian and Efraim become friendssss!)

Florian walked down the hallway to his office. He was supposed to be taking in a new patient today. The patient, who was supposed to be waiting in the drab, windowless office, was an unknown to him. Most were, he didn’t bother learning most of the names of the patients. He hadn’t bothered to look at this one’s file, even, seeing the exercise as worthless. He stopped in front of the door, where two nurses stood to make sure that nobody escaped the room that wasn’t supposed to. Florian nodded to them, who in turn opened the door.

He wasn’t expecting to see his childhood friend-and unrequited lover-sitting tied down cuffed to the chair he used for interviews. “E-Efraim?” what were they doing here? This wasn’t the place for a person like them! They were, last he met them five years ago, quite the mild-mannered person. Was it because of how quiet, how odd they were, or for their faith (of which most in this “civilized society” believed to be scum)? He didn’t know, but he knew for certain that something was wrong.

Efraim raised their head, the whispered prayer still on their tongue. It was strangely the only thing they really say out loud for longer than a few seconds. The practiced Hebrew words came easily to them.
Their eyes widened when they saw the familiar face in the doorway. Florian… Despite the circumstances, they smiled. It was good to see the man again. He seemed to be doing well. If only they could go up and embrace him. Efraim curled their hands into fists, longing for something to write with. Longing to be able to even move their hands to write at all. But they could only nod to the young doctor.

Florian hastily closed the door, quickly undoing the knots that tied Efraim there. A risky move if they truly were insane, but ultimately not something he cared about in the moment. “Damn it, what are you doing here? My friend, you may speak to me here, nobody can hear us. Oh dear Efraim… I missed you so, but work has dragged me down into the pit and I have since not escaped.” he moved to embrace Efraim, but quickly withdrew. He didn’t want to startle them.

Efraim rubbed their wrists and stood up, letting out a grateful breath. Luckily, Florian didn’t have to worry, because they soon were embracing him instead. Their arms wrapped around him and they buried their face into his shoulder. “I missed you too, Florian,” they managed to say. Their voice was soft, but deep in pitch. When Efraim let go, they ran a hand through their hair to get it out of their face.
They were quiet for a moment. Talking with Florian used to be easier. “I was admitted here by a friend…” they tried to explain. “He meant well, but…”

Florian took in a sharp breath when Efraim embraced him. They smelled of paint, a familiar smell to them both. He kept his hand on Efraim’s shoulder even as the embrace broke, needing to touch some portion of them, to feel close with them when they felt so far apart. When Efraim spoke, Florian paid careful attention. “I see. If you cannot find the words to explain further, I understand. I just… I missed you. So much. And to see you in such a dark place as this, when you are so full of light? I will find a way to rectify this at once.”

Efraim reached up and held Florian’s hand on their shoulder. They had always loved simple touches like this, and missed it dearly. As they listened to their old friend, they shook their head. Something was wrong. They wanted to explain, but their throat had closed up. Taking their hand away, they motioned for a pen and parchment.

Florian took an empty journal off of his desk and handed it to them. He kept too many empty journals scattered around his office in order to write down things he never did end up writing down. He then handed Efraim a pen and some ink. “Take your time.” he said softly, his voice was high and lilting and sounded like what he imagined a fairy’s would sound like.

Efraim took the journal and the pen and ink with a nod. Sitting back down in the chair, they held the journal over their knee and began to write. They tried to be quick, but sometimes paused to think or because their hand had started to shake. When they were done, they handed the journal to Florian.
I have been staying with another old friend for a while now, recently I have been feeling rather ill. Mostly stomach pains, nausea, and headaches. But it is also other things as well. Speaking is becoming more difficult than usual, and I find myself to have gaps in my memory. I have forgotten where I was, what I was doing, things of that sort. It is difficult to feel joy or excitement these days, too. My friend noticed this, and told me that it must be the work of a demon. He sent me here because there was no where else, but I do not think I will find much help here.
I will say that I have thought of you often over the years, and seeing you again has alleviated my suffering somewhat. I feel better knowing you are here with me.

(IBS moments for Efraim lmao)

Florian didn’t know what to say for a moment. But words found his tongue eventually. “Efraim, dear heart… we need to figure this out. I have a doctor friend who specializes in troubles of the body, especially of this kind. If we work together… I’m sure mind and form may be soothed. However, he is off on a sabbatical in Germany.” Florian added. He did not add that this doctor and he had been engaging each other together in relations of a more intimate kind a few months after about the last time Florian and Efraim had met. The fact would probably make them faint, as it had his sister when she found out. She could hardly judge, though. Anyways, it was mostly just romantic letters, lover’s trysts, sharing a bed and drinking far too much together. Nothing Efraim couldn’t handle from Florian. Not as if they’d ever understood romance. Too dedicated to art, as Florian once was. But art was too much like flowers; it died eventually. Florian had to face that at some point.

Florian noticed his long silence after a minute or two. “Ahem. Well, I’m sure we can solve this.”

(Also, note the minor acephobia coming from Florian. We smack him on the back of the head with newspaper for saying Efraim doesn’t understand romance, because Florian of all people is not the person to be talking. Also I did just introduce another person to be concerned about. His name is Hector Rivera, and he’s not going to be of much help because plot.)
(Anyways, Florian has issues. This will be worked on. I swear endgame is Eflorian (the ship name I gave them lol).)

(Lol mood. Cuddles are objectively better)

Efraim took back the journal and wrote quickly. You are too kind, Florian. That is good to hear. Ah, perhaps my friend was also not equipped to house me and sent me here to lessen his burden, but was too afraid to tell me outright. Well, it is good that I can stay here then, without having to burden him.

Florian shook his head. “No. You don’t belong here. I’m going to see if I can get you out of here. You can stay at my flat a while, as you recover.” Florian didn’t want Efraim to suffer whilst here. Nor did he want Efraim to see the kinds of things he was doing here.

I do not wish to burden you as well, Florian, Efraim wrote. I assure you, I been through many unkindnesses before, this is only another.
They knew that places like these were not kind to their patients. Of course, they had been tied down to this chair and left alone. But they could handle that. God has brought them through suffering over and over, and they believed He could do it again.