Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (4/?)
Title: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (Chapter Four)
Author: hihunter
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jalex (Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth)
Summary: There isn’t a reason for it, I can’t point my finger on why it consumes my brain every second.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone...
Warning: Deals with OCD, obviously.
Author's Notes: Everything just sucks right now. Really bad. Someone happened to do something similar to the end to me and they were so fucking rude about it. They were practically taunting me. I was really tempted to make Jack an asshole just to get anger out, but I didn’t. Dammit.
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Second period seemed to come too soon for me. First period was easy to avoid Jack and his questions because we were in assigned seats across the room from each other, but here in second period, Science, we were side to side and forced to talk because the teacher had paired us together yesterday. Technically, I could’ve said no to the option yesterday, but I thought Jack would just keep quiet and watch me do all the work. I was wrong.
He would not leave me alone, always talking and trying to offer help as I wrote down the research we had to do. I’m sure he meant well, I’m actually positive that it was just because he was a good person, but I couldn’t handle the constant chatter in my ear. He was not supposed to be this nice. I had tried to shut him out twice already, but he didn’t seem to be phased at all by my outbursts and I didn’t understand why. Couldn’t he be normal and just ignore me?
“Alex,” he said, louder than I was used to him talking.
“What?” I snapped, my head shooting up. I stopped writing what I was in the middle of doing and sort of just glared at him for a second.
“Can I do something? You’ve just been doing the project and mumbling under your breath for half of class. Believe it or not I like to earn my grades, not just mooch off of other people,” he grumbled, his head in his hands.
There we go, finally some fucking bitterness, what I’ve been waiting for. “Here, you can finish the hypothesis. Mr. Chane likes really thorough answers, he actually gives extra credit for them most of the time, so write complete, thought out sentences,” I told him, nodding my head and handing him the paper.
I watched him scan over it, his eyes getting a bit bigger as he finished it. “Um, there’s no way I could just take up where you left off. Dude, you sound like a poet and you’re writing about dissecting pigs.”
I merely shrugged, not thinking much of the comment at all. “I like to write.”
“Well, I’ll just go back to watching you do it, but can you at least tell me what you’re going to put down?”
“Deal,” I said, the corners of my lips turning up. I really don’t know how he did it, but he really knew how to calm me down. I was supposed to be quiet, never speaking to him and he was supposed to be weirded out by me and my outbursts, not trying to get back on my good side.
I really didn’t expect him to be in the library at lunch, but sure enough when I walked in he was right there. We hadn’t walked together this time because he could find his way to classes on his own, but I had truly expected him to be in the cafeteria with new friends. But he was sitting at the same table as yesterday, this time with his own lunch.
“Hey, Alex,” he said, smiling at me when he saw me walk in with my bag and lunch.
I put my things down and sat across from him, exactly like yesterday. “Hi,” I said quietly, taking out the things from the paper bag and setting them down neatly. No, no, the food never touched the table, I made sure of it. Do you know how many germs were on a public table, not that I really thought many people came in here anyway, but I do not want to know where these people have been. If the food got an inch near the table, there was no way I would think about eating it.
“How was your fourth period?” he asked, taking a bite into what I saw to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It wasn’t a question to just fill up the silence, but he seemed genuinely concerned.
“Boring,” I admitted, offering him a small smile. There was something still in the back of my mind though, it wouldn’t leave because he wouldn’t leave. It was eating me alive basically, wondering all the time why he was still here.
He nodded, the conversation reaching an awkward stand still that was mostly my fault because I didn’t set up an offer for him to reply.
“Why are you still here, like, sitting with me? I thought I would have chased you away by now. I usually do that to everyone else,” I finally said. I was snapping at him a lot for knowing him for about a day and a half.
He shook it off like it was any other sentence. “I have issues talking to people, but I don’t mind talking to you,” he said, staring down at his sandwich the entire time. “I don’t know why though, maybe it’s because you’re kind of as awkward as I am.”
I looked him over for a couple second before taking that as a good thing an not an insult. “Okay,” I offered, nodding my head and ending that topic there.
We talked for the rest of lunch about small things- where he was from, what he liked to do. We had a lot in common, mostly dealing with music and what we listened to. But the bell had rung and we were getting up and cleaning up all the trash.
“Here, I’ll take that,” Jack said, taking the sack I had stuffed all my trash in and going to throw it away.
But no, that wasn’t right. I accidentally touched it a third time and that was bad. No, no, no. Something bad was going to happen.
Is mom okay?
“Jack, let me see that,” I stammered, making him turn back around and give me a curious look.
“No, I got it. It’s no big deal,” he explained, almost turning back around.
“Jack, please,” I practically begged, reaching out for the bag. “Just let me see that.”
No, she must be sick. Maybe her car crashed. Let me get the numbers even so she’ll be okay!
“Alright,” he said, handing it back to me with the look of confusion still evident on his face.
I took it from him and touched it a fourth, fifth, sixth time before throwing it away and spitting out, “I have to go,” before rushing out of the library in 10 even steps.
Author: hihunter
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jalex (Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth)
Summary: There isn’t a reason for it, I can’t point my finger on why it consumes my brain every second.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone...
Warning: Deals with OCD, obviously.
Author's Notes: Everything just sucks right now. Really bad. Someone happened to do something similar to the end to me and they were so fucking rude about it. They were practically taunting me. I was really tempted to make Jack an asshole just to get anger out, but I didn’t. Dammit.
Masterpost
Tumblr
Second period seemed to come too soon for me. First period was easy to avoid Jack and his questions because we were in assigned seats across the room from each other, but here in second period, Science, we were side to side and forced to talk because the teacher had paired us together yesterday. Technically, I could’ve said no to the option yesterday, but I thought Jack would just keep quiet and watch me do all the work. I was wrong.
He would not leave me alone, always talking and trying to offer help as I wrote down the research we had to do. I’m sure he meant well, I’m actually positive that it was just because he was a good person, but I couldn’t handle the constant chatter in my ear. He was not supposed to be this nice. I had tried to shut him out twice already, but he didn’t seem to be phased at all by my outbursts and I didn’t understand why. Couldn’t he be normal and just ignore me?
“Alex,” he said, louder than I was used to him talking.
“What?” I snapped, my head shooting up. I stopped writing what I was in the middle of doing and sort of just glared at him for a second.
“Can I do something? You’ve just been doing the project and mumbling under your breath for half of class. Believe it or not I like to earn my grades, not just mooch off of other people,” he grumbled, his head in his hands.
There we go, finally some fucking bitterness, what I’ve been waiting for. “Here, you can finish the hypothesis. Mr. Chane likes really thorough answers, he actually gives extra credit for them most of the time, so write complete, thought out sentences,” I told him, nodding my head and handing him the paper.
I watched him scan over it, his eyes getting a bit bigger as he finished it. “Um, there’s no way I could just take up where you left off. Dude, you sound like a poet and you’re writing about dissecting pigs.”
I merely shrugged, not thinking much of the comment at all. “I like to write.”
“Well, I’ll just go back to watching you do it, but can you at least tell me what you’re going to put down?”
“Deal,” I said, the corners of my lips turning up. I really don’t know how he did it, but he really knew how to calm me down. I was supposed to be quiet, never speaking to him and he was supposed to be weirded out by me and my outbursts, not trying to get back on my good side.
I really didn’t expect him to be in the library at lunch, but sure enough when I walked in he was right there. We hadn’t walked together this time because he could find his way to classes on his own, but I had truly expected him to be in the cafeteria with new friends. But he was sitting at the same table as yesterday, this time with his own lunch.
“Hey, Alex,” he said, smiling at me when he saw me walk in with my bag and lunch.
I put my things down and sat across from him, exactly like yesterday. “Hi,” I said quietly, taking out the things from the paper bag and setting them down neatly. No, no, the food never touched the table, I made sure of it. Do you know how many germs were on a public table, not that I really thought many people came in here anyway, but I do not want to know where these people have been. If the food got an inch near the table, there was no way I would think about eating it.
“How was your fourth period?” he asked, taking a bite into what I saw to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It wasn’t a question to just fill up the silence, but he seemed genuinely concerned.
“Boring,” I admitted, offering him a small smile. There was something still in the back of my mind though, it wouldn’t leave because he wouldn’t leave. It was eating me alive basically, wondering all the time why he was still here.
He nodded, the conversation reaching an awkward stand still that was mostly my fault because I didn’t set up an offer for him to reply.
“Why are you still here, like, sitting with me? I thought I would have chased you away by now. I usually do that to everyone else,” I finally said. I was snapping at him a lot for knowing him for about a day and a half.
He shook it off like it was any other sentence. “I have issues talking to people, but I don’t mind talking to you,” he said, staring down at his sandwich the entire time. “I don’t know why though, maybe it’s because you’re kind of as awkward as I am.”
I looked him over for a couple second before taking that as a good thing an not an insult. “Okay,” I offered, nodding my head and ending that topic there.
We talked for the rest of lunch about small things- where he was from, what he liked to do. We had a lot in common, mostly dealing with music and what we listened to. But the bell had rung and we were getting up and cleaning up all the trash.
“Here, I’ll take that,” Jack said, taking the sack I had stuffed all my trash in and going to throw it away.
But no, that wasn’t right. I accidentally touched it a third time and that was bad. No, no, no. Something bad was going to happen.
Is mom okay?
“Jack, let me see that,” I stammered, making him turn back around and give me a curious look.
“No, I got it. It’s no big deal,” he explained, almost turning back around.
“Jack, please,” I practically begged, reaching out for the bag. “Just let me see that.”
No, she must be sick. Maybe her car crashed. Let me get the numbers even so she’ll be okay!
“Alright,” he said, handing it back to me with the look of confusion still evident on his face.
I took it from him and touched it a fourth, fifth, sixth time before throwing it away and spitting out, “I have to go,” before rushing out of the library in 10 even steps.