Floodgates

[RiversD]

Just another allergy oneshot. Contains what I'd characterise as light-to-medium mess. Didn't tag it because it's not a main focus so I didn't want to mislead people who are here looking for exquisite mess descriptions. This is just a guy trying to get through his day before allergies kick his ass. about 1500 words.

 

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He feels it start on the walk from the subway station to the office. The city isn’t the greenest of spaces, but there are trees planted here and there, and the high rise where he works has planted a little garden around itself that looks good on brochures. Whichever of these is to blame, he feels the beginnings of that constricted feeling in his sinuses as their sensitive tissues react angrily to the pollen he cannot help breathing in, would barely be able to sense if not for the bristling histamine reaction that springs up along its path.

He steps through the main door. There’s a dust-like prickle in his eyes by now, tempting him to rub them, but he knows better.

The air conditioning in the office doesn’t help. Perhaps it is better than having a window open, but the pollen has got to his nose already and the dry, cold air only encourages it to run with a clear, persistent trickle that makes him grateful for the box of tissues at his desk and the personal trash can under it.

The more his nose runs, the more the itching has a sting to it, the inside of his nostrils growing raw and tender as the morning progresses. From time to time he has to pause in his work completely, the itch surging abruptly towards a sneeze, and fight against the instincts of his body, a cheap, scratchy tissue clutched tightly around the pulse of his irritated nostrils. Once it starts, it isn’t going to stop, he knows. If he allows himself to sneeze once, he gives up his resistance to the multitude that will follow. If he’s going to get any work done today, he has to be strong.

He escapes to the restroom for 10 minutes at lunch, sits on the closed toilet lid and blows his nose again and again. When he has finished he looks at himself in the mirror and presses wet paper towels to his face in the hopes of alleviating the bright, shouting redness of his nose. With every proper blow comes the rising urge to sneeze, but he fights it, aborting the outward breath each time the sensation grows too powerful, pinching his nose and clenching his jaw until the danger fades.

The tissue box on his desk is running dangerously low. Rationed, each tissue is made to last, pressed beneath his leaking nostrils until he is forced to admit they are no longer doing any good. Keeping them there so long when they’re already damp only widens the area of discomfort, the skin beneath his nose turning red and twinging with repeated visits from the now scratchy-feeling tissue paper.

The computer screen stings his eyes. Since it’s just tears, he dabs them against his shirt sleeves.

Somebody from Legal walks past his desk with a cup of herbal tea and the ticklish wave of scent sends him scrabbling for the last of his tissues, without the leisure to check how many he’s taking. His nose tingles along its full length, triggering an anticipatory gasp as it mounts rapidly towards a monumental sneeze.

“huhHH!”

He buries his nose in the tissues, massaging it urgently through the paper, feeling the strength of the tickle reflected in the determined flare of his nostrils. He knows if anybody is watching he will look a spectacle, writhing in his chair in a desperate effort not to sneeze.

A choking sound escapes him as the sneeze is forced back, his throat paying dearly for the success. He pants for breath, feeling as though he has been running uphill. This is exhausting.

He clocks out a half hour early. He’ll make it back up tomorrow.

On the way out, he heads to the restroom again. When he leaves, his pockets are full of scavenged tissue.

The pollen count outside hasn’t got any lower. He pulls the collar of his jacket across his face and tries not to breathe too deeply. In this respect, the congestion that set in over the afternoon is almost a blessing. He still empties one pocket of its tissues before his train arrives.

He spends the short subway ride clutching a bundle of tissue to his face and breathing through his mouth, counting the seconds between stops. His nose is hot beneath his fingers, aching for relief.

He leaves the train and makes it through the turnstile. As he climbs the steps from the subway to the street he feels that itch start to grow again, tickling his nostrils until they twitch and making his eyes water. He clutches the rail with one hand and massages the bridge of his nose with the other.

It isn’t far from the station to his apartment. Maybe he can still make it home before the dam breaks.

Only three steps below street level he is forced to stop climbing. The itching is only getting worse and he sacrifices another few sheets of his dwindling supply of tissues to blow his nose. He can’t give as much as his nose wants, but it scratches just enough of the itch that he can open his eyes again.

He makes the last few steps out into the Spring sunlight. Just one more street and he’ll be home, where there are more tissues, and tea, and…

An ominous perfume reaches him, strong enough now for even his dulled senses to register its presence. He looks up. There opposite the subway entrance are two large blossoming trees, clouds of pink extending high into the early evening sky.

A gust of wind cuts through the street, rustling the trees. A flurry of pale petals swirl past him, settling down the subway steps, and he feels a fresh tide of pollen entering his nose.

He staggers down the street, eyes streaming, one hand pressed to his nose, one fumbling uselessly for the last of his tissues. Despite himself, he knows this is futile. He can’t hope to hold out more than a few seconds.

He stops, unable to keep his eyes open. A feverish tickle has consumed his nose, and the desire to sneeze is greater than it has been at any point today. He feels it coursing through him like a physical flood, bearing down inexorably on his twitching, burning nose.

“h- hHUH!”

He has the tissue in his hand but is strangely arrested, hand half-lifted, conscious action temporarily paused. His mouth hangs slack. His head tilts back as the sneeze takes over, exposing his wide, red nostrils, shining with irritated moisture. His lip trembles, his nostrils give one final shiver, and he bends forward with a sharp, insufficient sneeze, gracing the sidewalk with a fine shower of spray

“heuh- HUHH-CHUUHHH!”

He gasps once, fast and hard, then plunges into the sneezing fit he has been trying to stave off all day.

“AHTCHHUH! hUHCHUH! hhuhhHH-CHUUUH!”

He can’t stop. He tries to slow the flood, manages to get the fistful of tissue to his face, but there’s nothing for it but to ride the current to the end.

“hUHT’SSCHHUH!”

“My gosh, are you okay?”

“Ye-yehh-” He can’t even see who’s asking, but whoever it is, he wants them to leave. “hEH’SSCHUH! I-i-it’sSCHUH! it’s just… HAEH’SCHHUUH! just aller- all- allergies… HH! HAH-CHUUHH!”

“Gesundheit! You sure?”

“Yes, be fine in… a… minuHH’CHHUH! I’m fine,” he lied.

“Alright. Good luck with that!”

Thank goodness, she’s walking away. Sneezing helplessly, he moves towards where he hopes he remembers seeing a wall.

“HAEH’CHUUH! oh thank-”

He finds the wall and leans on it, dabbing at his eyes with scraps of tissue as sneeze after sneeze undoes his efforts.

As soon as he can walk in a straight line again, he starts moving, knowing that the sneezing isn’t going to stop.

The short walk to his building feels like a mile now, every third step punctuated by an ab-crunching:

“HUhh’CHUH!”

His key fob gets him through the front door and into the grateful chill of the lobby. His nose reacts to the temperature change with a breathless triple-sneeze that almost makes him drop his keys.

“hh’cHUH! UH’CHUHH! HT’CHHUH!”

The stairs are an agony. He clutches the handrail with one hand and buries his face in the elbow of his free arm, no longer caring about the mess this will make of his jacket.

“hhuH’CHHHFF! HUH’SCHFFH!”

Vision blurred, he fumbles with his key, just managing to get it into the lock before he’s forced to lean on his apartment door and sneeze again, not caring that he’s getting it wet, just needing to get these sneezes out before he can focus on anything else.

“AHCHHUH! hUH’SCHHUH!”

He gets the door unlocked and all but falls into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. He leans back against it and lets himself slide to the floor. In a minute or two he’ll have enough sense to look for tissues, to change out of these clothes, to shower, even, but right now…

“huH-CHUH!”

He is finally home, finally alone, and all he wants to do is sneeze and sneeze-

“HAH’CHUHH!”

and sneeze, until he is utterly spent and this whole miserable day is paid for.

“hheHCHHUH!”

This could take some time.

 

[Alyssa1146]

Oh em gee.  I’m dying over here.  

[Tumble]

Wow. That was lovely. 

[starpollen]

Ohhh yes  this is lovely!  Thank you.

[Cedar]

The depiction of the perfume and the wind blowing through the trees? Beautiful

[Hyacinth]

That was a work of art. Thank you. So much. 

[LazyExplorer]

I love the slow burn at first only to be overloaded with sneezy goddess in the end 

 

[ThatSneezyGirl]

Wow that was amazing 😍 would love to see some more character interaction from him 

[krazykat]

Oh dear god this was Hot!