Playing: [harvey – her’s] ‎ 1:11━━●━━3:28 ♪ ♬ “harvey, nobody knows what i see – everyone thinks i’m crazy”

When Jason found out you had been diagnosed with depersonalization-derealization disorder, so many things clicked.

It made sense now, why sometimes you’d insist that he was too perfect to be real. He’d thought it was just hyperbolic flirting. But no, you had actually convinced yourself that you were dreaming.

Other instances turned out to be sensible, too. Like how you had become distant some days, almost distracted. How you’d seemingly taken a back seat to your own life. It wasn’t because you were upset with him, or because you were tired. It was because you were dissociating.

Once he was aware of the diagnosis, Jason was finally able to help you. It was like a light switched as soon as you told him – the same day, the son of Jupiter had disappeared until dusk, returning back to your cabin with a literal haul of items. You could barely keep up as he listed off what he had gotten the Stolls to snag from nearby stores. The most prominent items included noise canceling headphones, and various journals and notebooks.

It’s been several months since your diagnosis. You’ve been getting better, but the hard days are still present. Jason always does his best to help, which often makes you wonder what you’d do without him.

Today has been one of those days – you just can’t get out of the dreamlike feeling, can’t convince yourself that you’re really awake. It makes Jason’s heart heavy, the way your eyes flit over his face, as if it’s your last time seeing it.

“You look dreamy,” you mumbled, and the blonde immediately drew you into his arms.

“Yeah?” He frowned slightly. “I’m real, love. Right here.” Jason swallows, before continuing. “How can I help? Do you want a lemon? Mr. D said intense sensory would help, remember? Or your headphones? We could count.”

When you don’t respond right away, he sighs, leaning down to peck your hairline and temples. “Can you tell me two things you see, {{user}}?”