Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

18~Why Don't You Understand?

Tw: Mention of Suicide

-

His eyes were hidden in his palms, the bits of snow falling gracefully beside us, the cold freezing my cracked lips. A sharp pain forms in my eyes, realizing they'd been open that entire time too stunned even to blink.

"Darling," I say quietly, my hand finding its way toward his shoulder once more, my palm jittering with shock and cold. "Don't you think we should speak about this, inside," I ask him, wiping the tears from his eyes, afraid they'd freeze to his frigid skin.

He wipes his face with the blanket, the tears wiping onto the cloth.

"Yea-p!" He quietly says, fake optimism across his face, trying desperately to stop the tears. I only watch in quiet dismay. It hurt to see him like this. So painfully defenseless, so painfully terrified. It hurt to know I caused this, and if I hadn't been here, if we never met, then he wouldn't have to worry about me.

I watch as he reaches behind him, opens the latched window, and throws his legs in. He looked exhausted. It was partly because it was only 7, partly because his tears caused his face to look distraught. I bring the blanket inside first, throwing it onto the floor before carefully stepping through the opened cell.

I turn behind me and close the window, latching it to close it. I bring my eyes towards the man before me, his body facing me, but his face observing the wall.

I bring my hand towards his face, resting it atop his chin, tilting it down to face me.

"Schlatt. . . What makes you think I'll leave you?" I ask him honestly, keeping eye contact with him, his eyes aimlessly scanning anywhere they could except for me.

"I just feel like one day I'm going to come home, and you'll be gone." He finally cracks, his eyes finally making themselves towards mine. "I'm afraid your depression will get the better of you."

"You only recently started taking my mental health into account. . ." I bring up, suspicious at why he had cared so much. At the beginning of the relationship when I was at rock bottom, he didn't seem to care. "You didn't care when I was at my worse."

"No, because then wasn't your real worse? Do you even hear yourself Quackity? You've fallen completely. If this year is better than the last, then I don't know how you aren't dead." He speaks.

"I'm not depressed." I contest.

"You tried to kill yourself! " His voice cracked in disapproval.

"You don't really care," I mumble.

"I do! Why do you think I've been trying so desperately to keep you alive!" His hands go up in the air as he has a tendency to talk with his hands especially if he was distraught.

"Why don't you just leave me? There's absolutely nothing good that has come of your life since I've known you." My voice was a bit louder, emphasizing the fact.

"Because I love you, Alex." His words sting like no other.

"Why? I'll only bring you down with me." I say in almost a whisper.

"Why do you tell yourself these things, Alex? They aren't true, nor will they ever be. Your mind keeps telling you that you're the bad guy in everyone else's story. It's not true. Even if it was," His vocal volume matches mine, a quiet whisper, the tears in his eyes leaving completely. "I would still love you."

His hands go to mine, holding them.

"I don't understand," I mumble quietly to myself.

"Goddamnit! What don't you understand? I love you! I would slit someone's throat for you! I would die if it meant you'd be happy! I would rip out someone's organs one by one if it meant you'd be mine forever." His voice was rough, he was serious.