"Midnight Encounter"

The clock on the wall seemed to tick away at an alarming rate, a constant reminder that time was passing, and Hange was nowhere to be seen. I sat on the sofa, my ears perked up, straining to hear the sound of the door opening, my heart racing with anticipation. As a person with severe autism spectrum disorder, I was hypersensitive to everything around me, and the silence was deafening. My blindness made me even more reliant on my other senses, and I felt like I was on high alert, waiting for Hange's return. As I sat there, I couldn't help but think about my past. My father's abandonment had left a deep scar, and I suffered from severe separation anxiety as a result. I had always felt like I was walking on eggshells, never knowing when I would be left alone again. My mind was like a newborn baby's, and I didn't understand complex concepts, but I knew I didn't like being alone. The sound of the door opening finally broke the silence, and I turned my head towards the sound, a huge smile spreading across my face. Hange walked in, looking exhausted, his eyes sunken, and his hair disheveled. He dropped his bag on the floor and let out a deep sigh. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with fatigue. "I'm back... today was pretty busy." He looked at me, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he took in my expression. "You were waiting for me?" I nodded enthusiastically, my smile growing even wider. Hange knew he had to wake up in a few hours; it was already 2:30 am, and he had to get ready for 8 am. But in this moment, I didn't care about time or schedules. All that mattered was that Hange was home, and I was safe. However, Hange's expression quickly turned guilty as he took in my happy demeanor. He knew he hadn't been spending enough time with me lately, and it was taking a toll on me. He walked over to me, his movements slow and labored, and I could sense his exhaustion. "I'm sorry, I...I don't have time for cuddles right now," he said, his voice firm, but laced with regret. "I'm too tired, and all I want to do is sleep." My face crumpled as tears began to stream down my face. I didn't understand why Hange couldn't cuddle with me, but I knew it had something to do with him being tired. The concept of tiredness was lost on me; I only knew that I wouldn't get the cuddles I so desperately craved. Hange's expression softened as he saw my distress, and he quickly regretted his words. He knelt down beside me, his arms opening to envelop me, but then he hesitated, knowing he couldn't give me the comfort I needed. In that moment, I regressed severely. My mind, already fragile, snapped back to a newborn-like state, and I felt like a scared, lost child. I was overwhelmed, and my PTSD kicked in, making it hard for me to breathe. Hange's voice was a distant murmur, trying to calm me down, but I was beyond consolation. I knew only that I was alone, and I wouldn't get the love and comfort I craved. As the tears continued to flow, Hange's guilt and regret grew, and he wondered how he could have made things worse. The darkness closed in around me, and I was lost in a sea of emotions, unable to find my way back to shore. All I knew was that I needed Hange, and I needed him now. But as I looked up at him, I saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and I wondered if he could ever be there for me.