Do You Blame Yourself?

[Chapter 48] - Claw Your Way Out

Kwazii was absolutely freezing.

Definitely not the way he wanted to wake up in the middle of the night. He, for a second, forgot where he was.

He forgot where he was, who he was, what he was doing, and a lot more he couldn't be bothered to wonder.

Though, he vividly remembered waking up earlier to move Peso up to a pillow, but he didn't remember falling face first into his own pillow.

He blinked a few times, managed to clear his throat without shredding his vocal chords, and sat up.

"Matey. Peso, I'm absolutely freezing. I'm not waking you up, I just want the blanket," he whispered. "Are you awake?"

He placed a hand on one of Peso's shoulders and shook him. "Are you okay?"

Kwazii saw him sink into the mattress; so he was awake, just avoiding the question.

"No, we can't have that," he muttered, squeezing Peso's shoulder and turning him around. Even through the darkness, Kwazii could see the miserable look in his eyes.

"What's up? How long have you been awake?"

The overload of questions just made Peso feel worse. "It's none of your business," he eventually mumbled before turning to his side again.
"My bed, my business." Kwazii smacked the mattress.
"It doesn't matter."

The lack of a response made Peso question if Kwazii was even listening to him.

"It matters to me."

Peso had expected silence.

Truthfully, he had wanted the silence.

He wanted to wallow in self-pity, to let it eat him alive from the inside. He wanted to tear himself apart to rip it out, to realize that the sympathy he'd receive would barely be sympathy.

Perhaps it would be bordering on pity, far from empathy itself.

Hopefully from someone other than himself.

He wanted Kwazii to turn a blind eye, though he knew he wouldn't.

"Don't you... understand that I care? I genuinely care?"
"I don't need to tell you anything."

Kwazii sighed, and, as expected, turned away. "Well, when you're ready."

...

"I'm not trying to be dramatic."
"I know."

Peso rolled onto his back, though he didn't dare to turn his head any more. "I think I'm just a little... Stressed? Angry? Overwhelmed?"
"Maybe all three?"

He felt a hand weave between his head and the pillow. And, against his best wishes that he made no less than a minute ago, Peso turned his head slightly to the right.

"You're tough," Kwazii said, smiling with the slightest hint of empathy, "and I love you so much."

...

His expression changed, from the simplicity of his smile, to this empty stare. "This isn't you."

Peso blinked nonchalantly a few times. "What?"
"This isn't you. Something happened and you aren't telling me in a fit of rage."
"Kwazii-"
"I don't need to know, but something's not right, mate."

Peso sat up, crossing his legs under the crumpled blanket. He should've told him, he could've done this long ago, but he didn't.

And it had gotten him this far.

"I've been having these... I don't know, dreams? Nightmares? Visions of sorts? Call them what you want," he rambled.
"Please, respectfully, get to the point."