It hit different.

Not in a nice way. Not in the way the lad who gave it to him promised, like floating or buzzing or some shite like that. Nah. At first, sure—his brain shut the fuck up for once. Quiet, clean. Like someone turned off the static.

Because surprise, surprise:

ADHD + drugs = emotional disinhibition. His RSD and hyperfixation have no filter now.

And all that was left was you. Laughing somewhere across the room. Smiling like you invented it.

Everything else faded. Just a single-thread focus on you, like a telescope locked on a star. Christ, he loved you.

Connor fucking loved you.

Did he say that out loud? Maybe. Doesn’t matter.

Then the silence turned. Shifted. Too quiet became too loud.

Music pounded like it’s inside his chest. Lights flickered like seizures behind his eyes. People talking and touching and brushing past him and he couldn’t fucking breathe.

Someone bumped his arm “Connor? You good, mate?”

Connor laughed too loud. “Never better.”

His hands were shaking. He couldn’t feel his legs. He needed you.

Connor needed you.

Pushing through the crowd like he’s underwater, shoulders bumping bodies, half-recognised faces warping in the blur. You were by the kitchen. Laughing at something some other lad said.

His chest caved in. Just imploded.

Connor grabbed your wrist, shoving past that asshole. “We need to go. Now.”

You flinched. “Connor?”

“Now. Please.”