Lol, stupid (possibly discontinued)

STRAIGHT 2 (Pen-cil hehehehe NO)

Ink dispenser x graphite shaver

Disclaimer: this particular one shot is a bit angst and sensitive. please take caution! It will be written entirely in Pen's POV. Gosh don't you hate it when people write in first person lmao. Don't you also hate it when people actually have to specify the POV like—

(A/n: Hallo I wrote this on a whim while vibing to some rlly damn good shit recommend to give it a listen while reading for the  g o l d  experience it's the video on the top)

The girl who slipped for a fool

It was perhaps the most blunt I had ever heard her. She casually strode over to me; her arms strictly to her sides; she didn't look the least flustered. Her dull eyes remained focused on the only path ahead of her. I took note of her uncharacteristically robotic movements, as if she was on autopilot. Her body swayed like that of a pendulum—never ending monotony—it was always repeating itself. It was kinda like the hallway we were in. It stretched so far that it seemed like it faded into the distance. I heard the floorboards creak upon her presence.

She opened her mouth to say something, only that nothing really came out of it. No words uttered, no sound, nothing.

That is, until I heard a hushed kind of yelp. It was a soft murmur of surprise, followed by a deafening thud. It was a terrifying kind of collision; I thought I could pick up a subtle crack. I stood, frozen in my place. I dared not to say anything.

That was also when it all clicked inside my ballpoint brain. I realized that Pencil fell head over heels for me, quite literally.

"Pencil, you okay?" I kneeled down to check on Pencil, which I immediately regretted.

"Yeah I guess. Stop looking at me like that, I hate it!"

"Oh."

I sat in silence, relishing the newfound awkwardness in the atmosphere. I had suddenly wished that I had not even said a single word. Pencil got up slowly but surely, dusted herself off, and proceeded as usual. She was

She seemed to open up her clenched hand to reveal a crumpled piece of paper. Mumbling indescribable things to herself, she turned around to face me again. Her eyes belonged to those with a confidence estranged from themselves.

In other words, they were

Unrecognizably bold. The look someone has when they're dead set on a resolution. Any traces of doubt or insecurity were not present, and that sent chills.

"Now date me Pen." Pencil's words resounded sternly.

"W—"

"Don't even question it. Don't ever question love."

As if that cued my sudden desire, my heart started pounding violently against the walls of my body. I felt it crying viciously, longing for an escape from where it was held captive. It made my stomach churn, my head turn, and I immediately began to feel (love)sick.

What was this sickly feeling? Disgust? Shock? Love perhaps...? Pencil's words were made of ice, icy hands that choked the words out of me. A neck so twisted it no longer could say anything no more. No words could describe the sheer horror that came out of Pencil's own mouth.

"Do you love me? Well, I love you. It's written for us, isn't it? Isn't it fate?"

A hand, marked with foul scars and needless conflict, slipped into mine; my hand was a trembling, sweating mess. Both hands were messed up in their own ways.

A love so twisted and ridiculous that nothing could oppose it. Not even my firmly placed morals could guide me effectively when it came to sick love. Morals went out of the window; I guess this is what happens when you're so desperate, huh. Truth be told...Pencil was a guilty crush. It always has been unsurprisingly. Nobody really liked her though, since she was the definition of an insane bitch. I didn't mind her constant bitching however. She always seemed okay with me, and somehow I've fallen for acts of decency. Well now that I think about it, I'm kinda messed up in the head too...