#the death of peace of mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foliosriot · 7 months

Text

Love’s The Death Of Peace Of Mind — Pt. 2

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

warnings: none, just kinda very short

tags: @malice-ov-mercy @measuredingold @crimson-calligraphyx @chels3a-smile @misspygmypie @veronicaphoenix @loverofagoodbeard @catj422

masterlist. tdopom masterlist.

“Hello?”

“I’m fucking panicking.”

The line is silent for a few beats, and it has you worriedly thinking if Jolly just hung up on you. But then there’s a deep sigh that has you feeling momentary relief.

“Why, exactly, are you fucking panicking?” Jolly asks carefully.

“I texted Noah,” you tell him, nervously nibbling at the tip of your thumbnail.

“That’s good! I’m proud of you for finally communicating with him,” Jolly praises you.

“No, it’s not good, Jolly!” you fire back. Stress is eating away at you, anxiety bubbles violently in your stomach. “I have never felt such panic since Fall Out Boy’s hiatus after Folie à Deux!”

“Wow, okay. That’s … That’s a strangely niche reference I haven’t heard you talk about for a long time.” Jolly looses another sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“He told me he misses me.”

The line goes silent again. Your leg is bouncing as you sit atop one of the stools under your kitchen counter. Your phone is face-up on the counter on speaker, and you know Jolly hasn’t hung up because the call time is still ticking. But that still doesn’t calm your nerves by any means as you wait for his response.

It’s been two days since you texted Noah, two days since he replied, two days since Bad Omens released their third album THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. You hadn’t known how to go about Noah’s response so you’d thrown yourself back in to work and whatever chores needed to be done around your apartment. Your resolve had finally cracked when you shamelessly listened to the record for the sixth time (at least you think it was the sixth listen).

As soon as Miracle had ended that last time, you immediately called Jolly. You didn’t know who else to talk to. And thankfully, Jolly knows both parties personally and is the one who had told you to text Noah in the first place, so it was simply logical, actually.

But that hadn’t made it any less aggravating to wait for him to answer the damn phone call.

Finally, Jolly says something, but it has you wishing he had just hung up on you.

“He does miss you.”

God, and isn’t that just fucking wonderful information? The single sentence brings tears to your eyes. You fold your arms on top of the counter then rest your cheek against them.

“Jolly, he—“

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” Jolly’s voice is firm, and it almost feels like a parent scolding their child. You bite your tongue anyways. “You told me you were the one to stop texting in the first place. You said your feelings were all messed up and didn’t know how to talk to him about any of it. Don’t think that your decisions didn’t hurt him, because they did. Noah wanted to talk to you about what happened but you ignored his calls, right?”

You hate how well Jolly knows you. You say nothing.

“There’s so much of you in the album, it’s fucking crazy,” Jolly continues. “Noah misses you so much more than you think he does. He wanted to figure this shit out with you. But he ended up just compiling all of it into those songs because you couldn’t pick up the damn phone.”

Tears are spilling down your cheeks now. Jolly’s words hurt — god, they really fucking hurt. But he’s speaking with so much honesty and sincerity it makes you sick. Because yes, you were the one to ignore Noah’s calls and voicemails when you first started losing touch. You couldn’t deal with what you were feeling, nor could you express how you felt at the time. You don’t think you’d be able to now.

But you need to. All of these feelings and emotions have been festering inside of you for years and years. They were nearly overflowing the first time you and Noah were intimate, then they finally flooded every inch of your body the last time you spoke. You just didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.

However, as your vision is blurry with tears and you’re quietly sniffling, you know what you need to do.

“I miss him, Jolly,” you whisper in a broken voice, scared it won’t carry through the speaker. “I miss him so much.”

“Then talk to him,” Jolly says, gentler this time.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, relenting only when you see fuzzy stars and nebulas accumulate beneath your eyelids. More tears slip down your face as you blink repeatedly.

“I’ve lost him once already. I don’t wanna do it again.”

“You haven’t lost Noah, trust me,” Jolly assures you. “To this day, he is still your best friend, whether you realize it or not.”

“What do I do, Jolly?” you ask timidly. You’re scared by his potential response, but you are already mentally writing down what you want to say after this phone call ends.

“Text or call him, and set up a time to meet,” Jolly suggests. “If you don’t, you’re gonna drive yourself insane. I mean, you’ll be our number one Spotify listener for the entire year, but let’s avoid that this time around, okay? I’d like to prevent that from happening for a bad reason.”

You chuckle a bit at Jolly’s antics. But you find yourself nodding, even though Jolly can’t see you. You push up off the countertop with a spark of something settling in your stomach.

“Okay, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” you tell him. You sniffle then stay quiet for a short minute. “Thank you, Jolly. I’m sorry for dumping all of this onto you.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” he responds. It’s evident that he has a smile on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah, for sure. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you.”

Jolly hangs up and you’re left in the quiet of your apartment.

Now, after having talked to your older brother figure — who made you cry, that fucking asshole — you feel a sliver of determination embedding itself into your ribcage. You can feel it burrowing into the bone and marrow, slowly spreading across your entire skeleton. It infects your organs and veins and bloodstream, until it’s all you feel.

You wipe away any tears that had fallen in the past couple minutes. Your skin is hot beneath your fingers and you can your pulse in your palms. But you ignore the heat radiating off of you as you open your phone with shaky hands.

A moment later, Noah’s contact is staring at you. You’re hesitant to open your shared text thread and ask if he wants to meet up and talk. But Jolly’s encouragement echoes from every corner of your skull, each word reverberating into the tissue of your brain until it is the only thing you can remotely think about.

Then you’re typing and sending off your message before you can think twice about it.

You gingerly set your phone back down on the counter. Deja vu ripples through you, a scene in your bedroom playing in your head from just a few days ago.

But you shove that memory away as you stand up from the stool. The leg that had been bouncing hurts a bit from constantly jittering, but you ignore the ache as you begin your way to your room. You purposefully leave your phone behind.

After gathering clean clothes and a clean towel for your shower, you head back into the kitchen to retrieve your cellphone. And you see there’s a new text notification present on the screen — one from Noah.

Your heart nearly stops at his reply. You aren’t sure what you should be feeling right now. But he definitely did just say he wants to see you.

You’re shaking uncontrollably as you read the text over and over. It’s almost like you’re waiting for Noah to say this was a joke, that he never wants to see you again for as long as he lives. But it never comes as you continue staring at it.

Noah wants to see you.

Noah wants to talk to you.

Noah wants to—

Meet tomorrow night?!

You must have read that last part wrong. You read through the text several more times to make sure you didn’t misread anything or mistook what he meant. Because Noah asked if tomorrow night at your place works. At 7:00pm.

You almost decline, saying that you picked up another shift from work at that time. And you’re about to begin typing out that gentle rejection when Jolly suddenly texts you.

Jolly🎸☀️: Noah just ran in to the living room telling me you texted him. Fucking smiley bastard. Just know that I’m very proud of you for doing this!

Well, shit. Now you have to accept the meet time.

So you do, standing in the middle of your cramped hallway with anxiety on the verge of spilling out of your mouth. You swallow harshly, choking back the bitter taste as you’re typing out your answer to Noah.

But you can’t help feeling hopeful. It almost overpowers the anxious tugging in your belly. And you let it remain confined inside of you as you take your shower, letting each and every possible scenario for tomorrow night play in your head.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

a/n: let me know if you want to be tagged when i post pt 3!!

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #joakim jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson #the death of peace of mind #alex! ❪ 𖤐 ❫#alex’s writing! ❪ 𖤐 ❫#fic: love’s the death of peace of mind

289 notes · View notes