Nico's pov
Trigger warnings: mentioned self harm/scars, mentioned eating disorder, mentioned panic attacks/hallucinations,

ITALIAN AT BOTTOM
—
(Day 15)

It's been two weeks and a day since I arrived at Will's apartment, bloody, crying, and dissociated. Not that I was counting. I didn't think about that day at all, not if I could help it.

Problem was, I couldn't help it.

Anyways, it's been two weeks, and I've built up some sort of trust in that time, because I was home alone for the second time.
Not that I wanted to be alone, of course, I actually kind of hated every fucking second of it, but there was nothing the three of us could do about it. Will was given a shift that overlapped with Cecil's class, and since no one else knew that I was hiding out in my boyfriends small apartment, I had no one to babysit me. Adult-sit? I am an adult...
I shouldn't need to be watched, as an adult. I shouldn't want to be watched. Hell, I used to despise being watched over like a clumsy toddler with no impulse control, and that was before I was locked in a mental hospital with no privacy.
One would think that this situation would drive me mad, but it didn't. It was quite the opposite, really. You could say I've gone through quite a bit of character development.

Achievement unlocked: Nico is now self aware!

I know now, that I am not... good. I know that I was, and still probably am, a danger to myself. That I was placed in the hospital for my own protection (even if I hated their tactics). I know that I'm safer with another person with me.
And I adapted very quickly, in my humble opinion! Maybe... maybe too quickly, because now I relied on that second person's presence in the apartment. It made me feel safer. It was like a safety blanket that child never leaves home without. Will and Cecil were the knights that defended me from the big bad dragon, if the big bad dragon was my brain (I use that metaphor because Cecil won't stop calling me princess. I hate him).

With that info-dump to process, it should not come as a surprise that when Will told me I would have to be alone, I did not take it well.

I had only been alone at the apartment once, and it was for, like, forty minutes, and also it was unexpected, so I didn't even have the chance to over think and freak out.
I wish Will hadn't told me, because I barely slept. I spent the majority of the night overthinking what could happen when I was alone for an hour and a half. What if the cops came back? What if the voices got really bad and I had a panic attack? What if I had the sudden urge to self harm or do drugs or run away and I couldn't stop myself? What if my coping mechanisms didn't help me and I had no one to pull me back to reality with a warm hand on my cheek?
Of course, a lot of these were unrealistic anxieties, or that is what I tried to convince myself.
Eventually I did fall asleep, after staring at Will's sleeping face for half an hour and trying to count his freckles in the dark (not possible).
If Will trusted me, then he had to have a reason for it. If he really thought I couldn't be alone, he would have made that clear to his boss. Will is responsible (sometimes) and wouldn't purposefully put me in danger. I think.

Speaking of Will, I'm like 60% sure I'm still in love with him. Like, love love. Which is super embarrassing. I was expecting that slow burn build up like the first time around, but nope! As soon as we talked boundaries and reinstated our relationship, my heart went all the way. I'm not even sure I could explain it without sounding stupid. How can I hate someone for three months and then fall in love after two weeks? Trust me, I wish I knew.
Everything was normal and yeah, of course I felt things around him, but now it was... different. The leaks in the dam finally burst, the fireworks were finally released, the star exploded. When he spoke, my heart beat leaped, and when he touched me; a hand on my chin, or fingers in my hair, or arms around my waist as we slept— it gave me fucking heart palpitations. If he kissed me, I'd probably have a heart attack.

I wouldn't dare tell him any of this though, that was way too embarrassing. The fact that he could probably hear my heart beat that fast was bad enough.

Will, for a second time, has ruined me. And this time around it was like, fifty times faster! I've been emotionally bulldozed.

That's all beside the point, though, because I'm home alone, with no one to watch me, for an hour and a half, which basically rounds up to two hours, and everyone knows two hours is a lifetime.

Cecil had left five or maybe seven minutes ago, and I had yet to get up from my paralyzed seat on the couch. Fear, probably.

There were only two things holding me together: Will's laptop was sat in front of me, open and ready to play music, and also the only communication between myself and Cecil because he promised to check in every half hour (more like twenty minutes, knowing him), and the three sticky notes in my grip, growing sweaty as they sat on the palm of hands.

The sticky notes were from Will, of course, who had to leave before I woke up this morning. The first one, of course, was on his pillow: 'good morning, Neeks! I hope you slept well, especially after you stole all the blankets at 6 in the morning. You're going to be ok today, I promise!!'

The second one, also in the same place as last time, that I found after stumbling into the kitchen, frowning because Cecil was hogging the bathroom and I had to pee: 'toast, an orange, and eggs for breakfast!! Cecil can probably make it for you if he's not being a dick, but you might want to prove to him that you're not a princess... unless you like the nickname ;)'

I couldn't help but snort at the scribbled 'fuck you I'm not a dick' at the bottom corner of the orange sticky note, most likely left by our other housemate and designated third wheel.

With both sticky notes on the counter next to me, I made the breakfast specified and went to eat on the couch (because when have I ever eaten at the table?) where I found the third sticky note: 'an hour and a half is basically no time at all, if you round down. I'll bring you a prize when I get home, and then we can go to the park like you said, since it's a nice day!'

He was right, of course; it was a perfect autumn day. From my seat on the couch, an hour after I found the last note, I couldn't help but stare at the neon sky outside. I bet it smelt like leaves and cinnamon and pumpkins. It was mid-October, after all. Crazy how, last year at this time, I was still at the foster home. I was no where near the same person.

The date to the park was at least two hours away, though, and I needed cope until then without Cecil's snarky comebacks or Will's calming hands.

I was just afraid of what I was capable of, but that didn't mean I was going to act. I had coping mechanisms! And I knew how to apply them.

"Stai bene, Nico. Stai bene. Questo va bene," I muttered, dropping the sticky notes on my lap and shaking my clammy hands out, once, twice, twenty times.
This wouldn't be too bad. After all, I had wanted to clean the apartment ever since I arrived. I couldn't blame Will and Cecil for the... well, it wasn't quite mess, but the dirt; they were busy university students after all, but wow.

I shook my hands twice more and pressed play on Will's favourites playlist (it was relaxing, sue me) before heading to the kitchen.
The scarce cleaning supplies in the apartment were not great, but I could make due.
I grabbed the glass and bathroom cleaner (not all purpose though, they were monsters) and the tiny hand held vacuum from under the sink, trying to avoid eye contact with the large Tito's vodka bottle next to it (who keeps alcohol and cleaning supplies in the same space? That seems dangerous), except once I saw it, it stuck to my brain like a burr on wool. I'd need to have Will change it's location.

I was sort of exaggerating when I said it was dirty; the apartment wasn't that bad, it was just bad to me. Will's room was clean enough (until the dirty laundry stacked up), and the living room usually only ever collected old mugs, but the bathroom was a fucking wreck, the the kitchen was so disorganized it only added to my discomfort of making food.

It was weirdly relaxing, cleaning the apartment. I rolled my sleeves up and tied one of Will's bandanas around my forehead to keep my bangs out of my eyes, and worked to sanitize the hell out of the bathroom. I cleaned under the sink (the worst part of you ask me) and the toilet and the base boards and the bathtub, before I moved onto the living room where I fluffed the pillows and cleared the empty dishes and dusted surfaces.
An hour had passed by the time I made it to the kitchen, I had answer three of Cecil's texts, and Will's playlist was no where close to finishing (he had too many favourites).

I was doing everything in my power to keep Bianca out of my head as I organized the fridge. She was such a fucking hassle (to put it lightly) and I felt like she was around every corner. My whole life, I had seen her as a pain in my ass, a pesky fly that won't leave you alone. Yeah, she had always been annoying and destructive to my mental health, but she had never been violent. Not until I ran away.
I had always hated her, but now I was afraid of her, which was ironic, because she wasn't real, and only a product of my mind.
But I didn't want to feed her by giving a reaction, and I didn't want to entertain her like I did in the hospital, so I've been ignoring her anytime she showed up. Cold shoulder.
I tried to avoid looking at her, which was hard, since she was still a rotting corpse. It would be fantastic if that stopped.

She was hovering, though. She has been for days, which is probably why I was so afraid to be left alone. She was whispering in my ear as I closed the fridge and started to clean the dishes in the sink, but it wasn't enough to phase me. Nothing but a fly.

I swayed to the music playing from the laptop as I cleaned my dishes from breakfast, of which I ate all of. Will didn't make me weigh myself, neither of us wanting to trigger an unwanted panic attack, but I could tell I was gaining weight— at least, I hoped I was.
If anything, my biggest worries right now weren't Bianca or food, it was the looming anxiety of the cops coming back.
Nothing came from their visit, which was fine and dandy, except it left me fucking terrified. There was no follow up (so far), no calls, nothing from Jenny that might hint that she sent them. They just showed up and then left. Invaded our privacy and dipped.

I was sort of scared of cops. They were not good with mental health crises— something I learned from living in the hospital for months. Sonny was not the only one with bad interactions with the cops, there were plenty of people there who had family members call 911 during a panic attack or a suicide attempt and been horribly mistreated. I didn't want to have to deal with that.
Also, the thought of being taken from here before I was ready was panic inducing. I knew I couldn't stay forever. I knew there was some time limit on my welcome, but I also knew that this was my safe space at the moment, and the idea of being ripped from it was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
I glanced at the front door anxiously, but no knocking came.

As I dried my hands, I spotted a dark red stain on the floor, of what was positively pomegranate, if I recalled Cecil's snacking last night.

I huffed and rolled my sleeves up again. I couldn't stop wearing Will's biggest and baggiest clothes: hoodies and band shirts and basketball shorts with thick socks. It gave me serotonin in a way I couldn't explain, and if I had the hood up, I could sort of hide the bandages around my neck (that I was wearing as precaution more than anything) and also, they were soft.

I dropped to my knees with the bathroom cleaner and the roll of paper towels. How was it that Cecil watched himself drop pomegranate, picked up the piece he dropped, and then proceeded to leave the maroon blotch?

I shook my head and started scrubbing at the spot. Cleaning was a great idea, it was super distracting. Will was due home in like, ten minutes, and I was excited to see him for the first time today. I wanted to show off what I cleaned, show him that I wasn't useless and could help around the apartment. I was proud of myself, and I wanted to see Will proud of me, too. Maybe I wanted praise, but there was nothing wrong with that.

The song switched, and the stain was nearly out.

And then someone knocked on the door, and my whole body flinched.
I froze, body tensing up. I was ready to bolt.

After a moment, and there was nothing but music from Will's computer on the counter, I almost believed I hallucinated it. I wouldn't be surprised, I've had more auditory hallucinations that the average mentally ill person.

I was seconds from convincing myself it was fake before the knocking returned, harder and faster than before, except this time it was followed by a voice.

"Will, open the fucking door if you want my notes!" A woman's voice screeched through the door.

Oh. Not the cops.

I had a sudden memory pop in my head from the night before; Will told me his friend Eloise, the scary blonde I met twice last year, might drop by with notes around the time he got home from work, and that I would just hide in his bedroom until she left. The only problem was that Will wasn't fucking home, and I am not supposed to be here, and Eloise is here.

I didn't move from my spot on the ground, too afraid to move and make sound.

"Dude, you said your shift ended around 2:00? If you don't want the notes don't fucking ask for them!" She shouted, slightly muffled. I looked at the locks on the door. I forgot to add the chain when Cecil left. Shit.

There was a moment of silence, where nothing but Will's laptop made sound, and I thought that she had given up.
And then there was a jingle of metal on metal, and a key slotting into the door, sealing my fate.
I scrambled to my feet, as the door unlocked.

"I didn't want to use the key Cecil gave me but I can hear your stupid music playing dumb ass, I know you're in here sulk-" the door swung open, followed by fuming blonde girl who made eye contact with me the second she walked in, like she could sense me.

She let go of the door handle in shock, pony tail swinging, her messy smudged eyeliner accentuating her confusion. She faced me with her arm full of notes. Me, drowning in Will's oversized clothes, holding bathroom cleaner, with bandages around my neck.

Will's laptop played some soft indie rock, between the shocked silence, and chimed cheerily with an incoming text from Cecil.

Eloise blinked.

"Um..." I murmured awkwardly, free hand reaching for my neck. My fingers caught the top of the bandages and started to pull nervously.

"What the fuck..." Eloise whispered, leaving her mouth dropped open, eyes widening, lines carved between her eyebrows. I couldn't tell if she was disgusted, shocked, or angry. Maybe all three? I needed to learn how to read people better. The hand holding the key was opening and clenching like she wanted to punch something. Maybe me?

"Uh, hi? I didn't know you had a key..." I tried to crack a smile, but it was probably pained. She leaned back, either assessing the situation or offended by my voice.

"How the fuck," she pointed at my face, "are you here?" She pointed at the floor again, "what the fuck... you're- you're missing right now," she whispered incredulously, "you- you were on the fucking news."

"I was, er. Here the whole time, actually. Not missing," I tried to laugh, stepping back, scratching at my bandages. They felt fucking tight— were they this tight five minutes ago?
I was trying so hard to be calm when I was alone, when I didn't have Will with me, but I was on edge, and this could possibly make me lose it. Fuck. Why were these bandages so fucking tight? My back bumped into the edge of the counter.

"What the fuck..." Eloise, shook her head, stray hairs flying, "that mother fucker!" she laughed, and I assumed she was talking about Will, "All of his whining, and I felt bad for him-" she took a deep breath, rant picking up hysterically, "and he's- he's been harbouring you here like some kind of fucking-"

"Nico why's the door-" Will stepped into the door frame, shoulder tense, "Open..." he finished awkwardly, staring a Eloise, who was holding her spare key. She looked over at him, fury in her eyes.
He broke the tense eye contact with her immediately (he must be magic) to look over at me, where I had backed myself into the counter, as far away as possible, tugging and pulling at my bandages, trying to stay calm. I was doing a poor job.
"Oh god."

"'Oh god' is right! What the fuck, Will??" She waved her key in front of his face, "I come in to give you notes because I'm a good friend and your missing ex-boyfriend is cleaning the floor? What the fuck??" She yelled, pointing at me like she was accusing me of kicking her hamster.

"Cleaning... the floor?" Will shakes his head, looking lost, staring at the spray bottle in my hand.

"Not ex," I piped in nervously, voice squeaky, waist digging into the countertop.

"So sorry!" Eloise snapped, "apparently I'm not caught up in Will's life- not close enough to him to know the major major changes happening—"

"No, El, it's not like that, it's because—" Will pleaded, but was quickly interrupted.

"Because this seems illegal? Because yeah, it does—"

"Please calm down, Ok—"

"No! I need you to fucking explain—"

"El—"

"Yourself, because this is fucking insane—"

"Eloise!" Will growled, in a fucking terrifying way that had even me flinching, and loud enough to make El's mouth snap shut.
She followed his trained gaze to me. I probably looked slightly, chewing my lip and doing my absolute hardest to scratch the bandages off of my neck, looking like a stray backed into a corner.

"Hey, Neeks," Will pushed past Eloise as if she wasn't there, moving into the kitchen towards me with a Starbucks, "It's ok," he murmured, voice drastically different from a moment before. He eased my digging fingers away from my neck, and took the cleaning spray from my hand, placing it on the counter, "come to my room, ok?" He was talking lowly, taking my hand as it reached for my neck again.
He held my hand and lead me out of the kitchen, past a stunned Eloise who gaped openly. I shrunk away from her like she was an angry parent (and I had experience with one of those) and crowded Will's side until we made it to his room.

Will dropped his bag with an annoyed sigh, that I hoped wasn't directed at me, and followed me to the side of his bed. He pressed the warm Starbucks cup into my hands.

"Hot chocolate," he explained, as if he would get me anything else.

"Oh, thank you," I whispered, staring at the cup instead of him.

"Did she freak out on you?" Will asked, stepping closer to me, but not close enough to be uncomfortable. To be honest, I don't think any closeness would make me uncomfortable anymore.

"A little," I nodded, rolled sleeves falling back into place, "I think she was surprised."

"Are you ok?" He murmured, not pointing out how spooked I probably looked. I took a deep breath. Will was in front of me. Everything was ok.

"Yeah. Yeah," I nodded eventually, "m' glad your home. I cleaned the apartment when you were gone to distract myself and I was gonna show it off, but Eloise stole my thunder," I pouted, tugging the bandana off my head. It wiped the sour look off Will's face and graced me with a small laugh.

"Awe, Neeks, you shouldn't have," he smiled, opening his arms tentatively. I smiled back and obliged, falling into them comfortably. Hugs have become a bit more frequent, which was really nice. I loved hugs from Will, "I'm gonna to explain things to her. Don't worry, she won't fuck this up," he said, quelling my worries.

"Ok," I whispered into his work shirt, smelling of coffee and cream and pumpkin spice.

"I'll come back when she leaves."

"Ok," I nodded again.
Will's grip on me loosened, but not before he kissed the top of my head.
And then he was leaving the room with the click of his door.

My heart was about to explode, like fireworks on a summer night.

—

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on Will's bed with my hot chocolate, trying not to eavesdrop.

Will walked back into his room after the front door clicked and locked shut with a pile of photo copied notes. He didn't look pissed off or anxious, so it couldn't have gone that badly. My raised shoulders settled.

"I talked to her," he announced, dropping the notes on his desk.

"Yeah?" I asked, trying not to sound too interested. Will caught my tone and smirked, walking over to me where I sat on the edge of his bed.

"Don't worry about her. She won't rat us out, she loves me. She understands... I think," he nodded along with his words, stopping in front of my knees. I opened them so he could step between. His eyebrows raised a millimetre, but he didn't point out the closeness.

"She seemed pretty mad..." I trailed off, staring up at him. He smiled warmly.

"She was just shocked," he booped my nose, "she's kinda been trying to therapize me since I started back at school, and she's kinda the only one I talk to beside Cecil, so she felt left out of the loop, especially since I haven't been talking to her much since you came back," he explained.

"Oh..."

"No, no, don't worry, it's not your fault, it's mine. I cleared it all up, though, it's ok, I promise," he booped my nose a second time. I wrinkled it and dropped my head forward to rest it on his stomach that was oh so conveniently placed in front of me. Lucky me.

"So... you cleaned?" Will asked, somewhere above me, with a lilt in his tone.

"Well now it's embarrassing," I whined into his shirt. Too bad coffee doesn't taste as good as it smells.

"No, it's cute!" Will laughed, poking my arm, "come on!"

"Ugh. I was just doing it to distract myself," I huffed, sitting back up, "I cleaned the bathroom and the living room and the kitchen. Happy?"

"Awe, my little maid," Will snickered.

"Shut up."

"Never," Will pat my hair, and I couldn't help but think about when he kissed it, "thanks for cleaning, baby."

"Baby?" I asked, eyebrow raised. Will's hand halted and his eyes widened.

"Ah- sorry, Neeks, it just slipped out- I should have asked if you're ok with it-"

"Will, you're ok," I giggled, bumping my forehead to his stomach again, but more to shut him up than for a headrest, "just surprised me. 'Baby' is dumb."

"I won't use it then," Will amended, placing his hand back on my head.

"Didn't say I didn't like it," I muttered, making Will smirk, "didn't you say we could go to the park? Shut up," I pushed him away lightly, but he clutched his chest dramatically.

"You wound me," he sighed dramatically, smiling, "but yeah, it's beautiful out, let's go!"

Will changed out of his work clothes while I changed into clothes I could leave the house in, paired with sunglasses, a hat, and a soft brown scarf Will found in the back of his closet.
Leaving the house with him was a very rare occurrence, so I took it for granted, taking his hand as soon as we stepped outside. Even though I was the one who acted, my heart jumped.

Will didn't ask, just smiled to himself and lead me down the sidewalk to the closest park to us, which was a nice ten minute walk away.
The sun kissed my cheeks like my mothers lips used to, like Jenny's still do. The cool breeze that chilled my ears made me thankful for a hat and scarf, but the autumn sun made me want to take my jacket off. A perfect day (if you ignore the chaos half an hour before).

Will swung our hands as we walked and squeezed whenever he needed to punctuate a line from his story. He seemed better today. He had a bad couple of days after therapy, but today, even after the mishap with Eloise, he seemed a bit lighter. I peered at him through his sunglasses as he talked and trusted him to help me avoid people on the street. When he talked like this, held me like this, and looked at me like that, like I was all that mattered to him, nothing else mattered to me: not Bianca whispering in my ear, not the people staring at our clasped hands because we were both boys, not the impending end to my stay with him. I was just here. Surrounded by New Yorkers chatting on phones, and buildings taller than the fiery trees that dropped multicolour leaves on my head. It was the first time I had felt comfortable outside since I ran away. Since I was sent to the hospital. On this perfect fall day.

"—I swear, I made so many pumpkin spice lattes today I though my nose was going to break," Will laughed, squeezing my hand.

"I thought you smelt like cinnamon," I nodded, smirk on my lips.

"That drink haunts me, I can't even drink it anymore, and it used to be my favourite!" Will whined, pulling me down a new street. The park was visible from here, with a couple young kids roaming monkey bars and on the kiddy swings. It was still school hours, though, so the park was nearly all ours.

"I want to sit on a swing so badly, I think I might die," I sighed, tugging on Will's hand. Will grinned with his teeth and started walking a beat faster.

"Well we can't have that happen! Come on, Neeks," he pulled me down the street, and through the gate to the park. A couple of the parents stared at us as we bee-lined for the empty swings, but (thankfully) decided to let us be.

I claimed the seat on the outside of the set, far away from the giggling and drooling child in the child seat and her young mother 6 seats down. I didn't want to disturb her.

Will plunked down next to me and we both kicked off the damp wood chips, jump starting our altitude.

"I bet I can get higher than you first," Will called over the creak of the damp metal and wind in my ears.

"You have long legs, you cheater," I laughed back, pumping my legs hard.
Being 18 on a swing is a lot different than being 11 on a swing. I was touching clouds in no time at all, wind drowning out the the children's laughter and parents chatter.

"Ha, I knew I'd win!" Will called, a bit above me, converse kicking the sky wildly.

"Your stupid legs are going to block pigeons paths! Don't kill any birds!" I shouted back, passing him in a blur as he swing back and I swung forwards.
I dropped my head back and closed my eyes, and pretended to fly, Will's laughter all around me.

It ended as soon as it started, though. Adults don't have the stamina that children have, and pumping your legs like a maniac is tiring.

We both puttered out to a weak swing, throwing our legs lazily, like they were pushing through water.
We matched up and swung together, slow enough to hold a conversation face to face without stopping all together.

"Do you know how Camilla is doing?" I wondered, facing Will. His hair was wild from the wind, blond curls standing every way.

"We text, sometimes," Will nodded, "she ended up taking a gap year, she couldn't decide which university she wanted to go to. She misses you. A lot, I think. She asks about you constantly, and used to call me lame for having little-to-no information," he snorted.

"I miss her," I murmured, "I never said anything to her, not even once..."

"She texted me a week ago," Will admitted, head down, "I didn't want to tell you in case it made you upset, but she asked about you. Because of the news report. I told her I didn't know anything, and she was... pissed? Furious? She curses even more than you do," Will laughed once, but it fell short.

"I'm a pretty shit friend," I wrinkled my nose, letting Cecil's vans drag on the mulch, pulling me slower.

"You're not," Will shook his head, slowing beside me and taking my hand. We swayed together.

"No, I think I am. Not that I mean it, of course. I ghosted Camilla, I was awful to you, and then I forgot Sonny's number at the hospital... what if it gets thrown out? What if I never find him again?" I frowned. Bianca approved in my ear, but Will squeezed my hand.

"Like, you said, Neeks, you didn't mean it. It was just... bad timing. Bad circumstances," He soothed.

"You can can that again," I snorted, kicking my legs as we swung.

"You can make it up to Camilla when this is all over. There's no point dwelling on the past, what's done is done, and I know she will forgive you— she talks about you constantly. And I'm sure you'll be able to find Sonny, social media exists of course," Will smiled over at me, leaning down to look past the swing's chain, "and you don't have to add me to that list, you know I've forgiven you already," he winked, and then dragged my hand to his lips, kissing it with a wet smack.
I blushed and yanked my hand away, trying to slow my heart as he laughed.

"You're the worst," I mumbled, cupping my other hand over the kiss mark, like I could preserve it.

"Sometimes," Will snickered, starting to pump his legs again, "come on, second times a charm, see if you can beat me!"

"I told you you're cheating!"

-
A/n
OH LORD MY HEART IT ACHES. IT HURTSSSSSS
This was a good chapter. I only had the first part kind of planned, and I completely winged the park scene, but I think it turned out good.
Anyways here's the Italian!!

ITALIAN
You're ok, Nico. You're fine. This is fine.

Anywayyyyy it's spring break for me! Cool stuff! I missed my therapy call today writing this without realizing and I cried about it. I wanted to see my therapist so bad UGH.

Love y'all!!

Thea