Are dialogue prompts ok? bc if they are can i suggest "If you don't like being carried, then ya gotta stop fainting in public"
One second Party was leaning up against the counter, humming tunelessly and waiting for Jet to finish paying for his new charger, and the next second the world was melting.
Shit, he thought, not now, and then he started screaming. He collapsed to the floor, doubling up and vomiting– it came out red, spattered across his palms, and he tried to scream again, but the whole world twisted and went blue and very, very bright and he saw teeth snapping and a giant fucking explosion– a nuclear fucking bomb–
And then he opened his eyes and sucked in a huge breath, so deep it hurt. What– where– he felt something wrapped around him and started struggling and flailing his arms, still gasping for air, and immediately got dropped on his ass.
“Well, fuck, if you don’t like me carrying you, you better stop fainting in public,” came a voice from above.
His thoughts finally slotting into place, Party looked up, chest heaving, to see Jet standing over him. He blinked, and Jet crouched down next to him. Party twisted his head over his shoulder, looking around himself. They were a few yards outside of the store, and he was sitting in the dirt. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh–
Party snapped his head around to look at Jet as he placed a firm hand on Party’s shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You just passed out. Totally silent. There wasn’t any screaming or thrashing or anything.”
“Are you– but I felt–” Party shut his mouth abruptly. He didn’t want to think about it.
Jet straightened up, offering a hand for Party to do the same. Party still felt shaken up, twitchy, shivery. He could see it still, afterimages seared onto the insides of his eyelids (lighting, fangs, rippling and bubbling) but he shook it off. Passing a hand over his eyes, he just nodded and said, “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s skid out.”
Jet nodded, and together they walked back to the car. Party handed Jet the keys wordlessly and got in on the passenger side. Jet gave him an anxious look, but he didn’t press it, and Party leaned his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling.
He placed a hand over his own chest, and waited for his heart rate to go back to normal.