Nick did not think he was as drunk as his sister perhaps thought. He had her at least take a picture of him in his suit – it was something he would share out later with others, though he found himself especially wanting Brandon to see. It was fitting, to him, that the man who paid for everything at least get to see the results of what he’d shelled out for. Nick yawned slightly, then carefully began to take off the suit, then hang it in his closet before changing into some more comfortable clothes. His sister had told him to sleep it off, but he wasn’t sure he could sleep. Now that the date was over, anxiety was beginning to settle in.
Neither Alyssa nor Ryan had given him any kind of answer, and only Ryan had said he needed time to think. Overall, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d shot himself in the foot, perhaps even lacking in the relationship department very soon. It was not a future he would fight, but neither was it one he wanted. He supposed, if the worst happened, that he could always put himself out there and meet someone new. After all, the relationship with Ryan was new, but it felt like an extension of their previous relationship rather than something new. He remembered the depression that had come after both his breakups, and he didn’t look forward to any of that, again, should the worst happen. So, rather than sleep, he opted to try and calm himself.
He took up a relaxed sitting position on the floor, and tried to remember how Charles had instructed him to do it before. Rather though, than imagine a canvas, he instead thought of a place in nature where he felt at peace – the desert. Not a desert of foreign soil, but that of the local Mojave Desert, with its Joshua trees and other assorted flora and fauna. A large open expanse in the midst of nowhere, away from the hustle of the cities; quiet and just past twilight, with stars shining in a clear night sky overhead, the only sounds that of any normal desert night. He took deep breaths, exhaling slowly to ground himself, picturing the anxiety leaving his body with each exhale.
It worked, to an extent, though his formerly bad leg began to complain after a while, not used to the position yet. He stood and stretched out his legs then, to be rid of the numbness that had begun to form. Perhaps, he thought, I should contact Charles later, and set up an appointment. The anxiety had lessened, so concern over his love life had receded somewhat. Making his way over to the bed, he sat on the edge and began to set his phone down, though paused as the light caught the reflection of the screen, and made dancing lights against the wall briefly. He angled the phone this way and that way to watch for a moment, and smiled at the childish wonder of it for a moment – then frowned.
The dancing reflections made him think of fairy lights, which made him think of his sister. In turn, that made him think of what she had told him earlier, about hurting others without meaning to; about being broken. There had to be a way to help her – he didn’t want her to be Rogue for the rest of her life, and it didn’t seem like she did either. With a grumble, he finally set the phone down and flopped back onto his bed to try and get that sleep his sister suggested.
The alcohol was beginning to work, and between that and feeling a little drained after his meditation, he was finally beginning to drift. As he did so, however, he kept hearing Brandon’s flirts from the other night, other comments he’d dropped, and remembered the way he looked. Nick rolled over and sighed, punching his pillow before getting comfortable again. Things would calm down a little – right? Eventually, he managed to sleep, trusting that his sister would remember to wake him at around three like she’d said. A couple of hours’ rest, and he’d be better… right?