Day, hearing his reply (which was actually pretty rude and maybe a bit insensitive, taking into mind they rushed their as quickly as possible), let out a huffy breath of air. It almost sounded like words— something along the lines of how he shouldn’t care so much about a fucking door— but maybe that was just their normal breathing. Who knows?
While exhaustion weighed them down, they shuffled forward to swipe Miles’ bottle of Paxil off the table. The last thing that Miles had to do right now was be in charge of his own meds, Jesus Christ. No— if anything, it was going to be in someone else’s hands from here on out. If they had a say, of course.
"Y’di’nt’ do anythin’, did ya’? And—" They twisted the bottle in their hands, looking for this prescribed dose. "— did you take any of your meds today?"
When Day suddenly walked over and grabbed the medication, he wanted to say something in protest, but he decided to stay quiet. Day must’ve been already a little upset because of the comment about the door. He thought to himself that maybe it was better that he had hold of the medication, because Miles still kind of had the thought of suicide on his mind. When he hears Day ask about the medication, he mumbled his reply.
"I haven’t taken it yet. I normally have to take it earlier in the day, but I guess today I didn’t have much energy to. Staying up almost all night causes a toll on you. Damn nightmares giving me insomnia." He sighs and pauses for a second before saying,
"…Fucking nightmares. I’m tired of having them almost every night. It’s almost always about the same damn thing, too. I barely have any dreamless nights, so It’s hard for me to try to at least have a break from them. And when I wake up from one, I end up staying awake from hours on end." He decides to jokingly add in, "The only good thing about it is that I mostly just sleep through the day, so I at least don’t have to go through a another whole day of self loathing and angst."