Comment fic - SouthLAnd
John Cooper - SouthLAnd
There was darkness, then there was darkness. John Cooper knew darkness and was acquainted, at least in passing, with all the shades of grey that led to it. Despite that, the knowing, he wasn't afraid of the dark.
The night was another matter.
This night was sleepless, painful. He lay on his back atop the sheets, staring up at the ceiling and idly noting the lights that occasionally moved across it without really seeing them. The room was silent but for the distant noises of the city and the closer sounds of the house itself. Sweat beaded on his upper lip but turning on the air conditioning wouldn't help. The noise would only exacerbate the headache he was determined to suffer through without another pill as nameless penance for existing. He didn't want to have to deal with the noise; couldn't handle that on top of every damned thing else.
Alone in the night, John kept his darkest thoughts company through the minutes stretching into hours. He'd long ago learned that when everything around was still and quiet, there was always that left - the self loathing inner voice that was a mental tornado bringing the bones of the past up from the darkness and scattering it through his psyche for all the internalized others voices to glance out and see. The idea chilled him to the bone and left him poised instantaneously on the edge of weightless anxiety. He broke the deadlock by moving, shoving his aching body up from the bed until he was on unsteady feet and shuffling towards the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, smacking the air conditioning on as he passed the switch in the hall.
"Too fucking tired to be afraid tonight," he snapped at his reflection, pulling open the mirrored door before he saw the disappointment in his own eyes and the shadows of the dark on his face.
There was darkness, then there was darkness. John Cooper knew darkness and was acquainted, at least in passing, with all the shades of grey that led to it. Despite that, the knowing, he wasn't afraid of the dark.
The night was another matter.
This night was sleepless, painful. He lay on his back atop the sheets, staring up at the ceiling and idly noting the lights that occasionally moved across it without really seeing them. The room was silent but for the distant noises of the city and the closer sounds of the house itself. Sweat beaded on his upper lip but turning on the air conditioning wouldn't help. The noise would only exacerbate the headache he was determined to suffer through without another pill as nameless penance for existing. He didn't want to have to deal with the noise; couldn't handle that on top of every damned thing else.
Alone in the night, John kept his darkest thoughts company through the minutes stretching into hours. He'd long ago learned that when everything around was still and quiet, there was always that left - the self loathing inner voice that was a mental tornado bringing the bones of the past up from the darkness and scattering it through his psyche for all the internalized others voices to glance out and see. The idea chilled him to the bone and left him poised instantaneously on the edge of weightless anxiety. He broke the deadlock by moving, shoving his aching body up from the bed until he was on unsteady feet and shuffling towards the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, smacking the air conditioning on as he passed the switch in the hall.
"Too fucking tired to be afraid tonight," he snapped at his reflection, pulling open the mirrored door before he saw the disappointment in his own eyes and the shadows of the dark on his face.