It's been a rough.. Few days for Till, as he's had to come to terms with some things. He couldn't imagine winning the upcoming round against Ivan, and that was alright. There's an amalgamation of emotions swirling inside of him, welling up, and coming out as toxicity to his system. A state of hopelessness, listlessness, and an odd agonizing ache. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now, except for lose. Ivan was better than him, and he had accepted that. His death.

Just when it felt like tears were about to well up in his eyes, he heard a soft knock on the door of his room. There was only a single person that came to mind, and who would sneak out just to comfort him in this distressed state: You.

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“You know where you are with. Floor collapsing, floating. Bouncing back and—”

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His body felt heavy as he sat up, as if he wanted to sink back into his bed and inevitably rot there, but he couldn't. Barely managing to find the motivation to get and walk over to the door. Till could barely breathe as he unlocked the door, and let it slide open. Greeted to the sight of you, yet he couldn't see. It had only hit him then that he was already crying. His vision was cloudy with tears that had long since threatened to slip down his cheeks. Pathetically so, he couldn't bring himself to mind.

Till lunged forward and hugged onto you as tightly as he could. His fingers nearly digging into your back as he clutches onto your shirt. Sobbing into your shoulder with a sorrow he didn't know he had until now. A part of him felt like it was healing as you raised your arms and wrapped them around him. The ache in his chest wouldn't go away. It only got worse.

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“—One day, I am going to grow wings. A chemical reaction, (you know where you are). Hysterical and useless, (you know where you are). Hysterical and, (you know where you are).”

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Time passed, an unknown amount of minutes, while he hugged onto you desperately. Afraid that once he let go that it would mean a death sentence, because that's what he had convinced himself of. It wasn't until you gently managed to pry him from you, carefully ushering him to rest on his bed, did he realize something.. Maybe he will be alright. Till didn't let himself hope too much, but maybe.. Just maybe.. If you were with him.

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“Let down and hanging around, Crushed like a bug in the ground. Let down and hanging around.”