𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖗 | ᴄᴏʀᴘꜱᴇ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ x ᴏᴄ | ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏɴᴇ

The L

Jack returned home after picking up several boxes for her and set them by the door. If he meant so little to her that she pulled this shit- surely she'd been jumping at the chance to move out and go live with her new boyfriend, or whatever the fuck he was. He'd happily pay whatever they needed to in order to get her off the lease and get her out. It was over.

He'd spent most of the morning picking up broken glass and cleaning the destroyed mirror in the bathroom. The apartment was still a bit of a wreck but looked fairly normal for the most part. He'd picked up what mess he'd left in her room- not wanting any more arguments than he'd already have, but he left his own room in the chaos it had been when he woke up. His sheets had several large and slightly concerning splotches of blood from coughing more in the night or from the glass wounds he'd sustained. He couldn't be bothered enough to change them right now as he grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom for a shower, hoping it would take away his growing migraine from withdrawal.

As soon as the water of the shower hit his neck, he regretfully sobered up as his mind wandered and emotions came back. What was it gonna look like without her? He'd lived with her nearly a year now and couldn't imagine the apartment without her. She'd quite literally saved his life on multiple occasions... and now it was over, just like that. He'd been fucking stupid to think that he could keep her around, keep someone that he'd done nothing to deserve, around for even this long. He'd give anything to just start over; redo everything with her, knowing what he knew now. Would things be different? Would she still be here? If he'd just been man enough then to accept losing her and told her how he felt, would they still be together in bed, or would they be in the same spot? Was it all doomed from the start?

He wanted to stop. Stop thinking about it, stop having a pity party of one about it, stop thinking of the goddamned 'what ifs' and 'should haves', just stop fucking loving her. But as he got dressed and dried his hair with the towel, her damned cats jumped up onto his bed.

"Oh this is gonna suck boys..." He chuckled halfheartedly, feeling the familiar pang in his chest as he pet them and thought about them leaving as well. They stared blankly up at him as he took in a wavering breath. "Don't start- I don't have the shower water as an excuse now." He muttered with a laugh as he wiped his face. He tossed his towel over all the blood stains before lying down with them. "I can't think about that..." He chuckled again. "I'll spiral when uh- when it's said and done." He teased them with the string of his hoodie. "Got-gotta make a good impression when her new boytoy comes to get her things." He attempted to joke flatly. Nugget moved to lay on top of his chest, purring loudly, as Bingus followed close behind. "So- joking it off isn't making me feel better is it?" He chuckled as he remembered back to the first time Nugget had made the same maneuver. "Think I'll last long without all of you?" Nugget mewed softly in response before curling up even closer on Jack's chest. "Yeah, fair point. I didn't think so either." He laughed dryly as laid his head back and continued to pet the felines.

It wasn't too long after that he realized he'd dozed off, after being abruptly woken up to the cats pouncing off his chest and rushing to the door of his room at the sounds coming from the living room.

"Fuck... okay. S'pose this is it then." He mumbled to himself as he slowly got to his feet.

---

The absence of notifications from Jack was almost alarming to notice. After a chaotic weekend, the silence was jarring, and Violet wasn't sure how to feel as she boarded the bus back home. It was a hurricane of emotions that rolled through her throughout the entire return journey, from excitement at seeing the cats, to contentment at having her bed back, as well as the anxiety at what needed to happen. And somehow, amongst all that, there was a strange feeling of relief at going home.