techiehux:

Techie squeaked and almost dropped it, catching it again and steadying it upon his lap. “H-Hux! I, ah, I j-just- wanted t-to try it,” he said weakly, eyebrows scrunched up together.

After a little pause, he asked, cautiously optimistic, “W-was I any g-good?”

Despite Hux’s encouragement, Techie went pale, so very pale, and his vision started going hazy. Was he crying? There was no way for him to know; an anxiety attack crept up behind him and put him in a headlock. 

The sax drops to the ground, he’s shaking, the room is tilting. Escape! He needs to get out, now, before it’s too late. Techie runs out the room as fast as his legs can take him, sobbing, out of breath, useless, he’s so useless…