𝙇𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙉 𝘿𝙊𝙑𝙀 | karlnapity

Chapter Nineteen.

• present •

Karl stands on shaky legs, taking his time in entering the warmth of the bar once more—he appreciates it this time, but the juxtaposition to outside, the sudden transition from freezing to hot, makes his skin tingle in a way he can't say he enjoys—and the deja vu hits him as he catches sight of Sapnap hunched over the bar, sipping on a half-finished drink and staring at the condensation on two different empty glasses in front of him.

The ring clatters quietly as Karl drops it infront of his ex-fiance, staring at the side of the ravenette's face accusingly. "You can't- you can't do that, okay?" He says. Sapnap's cheeks are tinted pink, and Karl wonders if he was crying. "What was that?"

The man drawles through his last swallow. "That was me giving up on saving people." Sapnap's breath stinks of alcohol, and the corner of his lips quirk up as he stares at the now third empty glass. "Even myself."

"No." Karl doesn't want to think of what the meaning behind his words could mean, and shakes his head. "No, Sap you-"

"I, what? Need to stick around to save you? Need to always be there to protect you when you fuck yourself over?-"

"-Need to take care of yourself." Karl's face flushes from his brief anger at being interrupted. "Prime, I am tired of you two assuming and interrupting me. I screwed up, okay, I know that. But I care, I love you. I love Quackity." He stares at the side of Sapnap's face, the other man is expressionless.

"I'm sorry that I won't jump off the edge. I'm sorry that life has fucked us over and made me the bad guy. I'm sorry you may never love me again. But that doesn't mean i dont care. I dont love like you two. I will never run into burning buildings or build cities from the ground up..

"But I wash your clothes when you forget; and I make sure you eat; and I make sure everyone loves the movie on movie night; I can name both you and Q's orders at any restaurant; I can name your favourite smells; I can name your favourite foods; I know your favourite flowers, favourite thing on pancakes, favourite song, favourite dance move, favourite sleeping position, favourite sex position; I can name the exact time and date both of you said 'I love you'; I know how to preen wings better than you ever will because i stayed up for three nights straight reading books about it; i know you hate broccoli and even the idea of it makes your skin go hot; the cupboards are never not stocked with more burn cream than we would ever need because of me; i know Quackity's favourite meal as a kid was quesadillas and yours was macaroni; i know the amount of freckles on both of your bodies and where every single mole or scar is and the stories behind them; I know practically every pet name there is in the Spanish language; I have memorised the name and story of every single one of both your family members in the off chance i may have been pop quizzed at our wedding; I started calling Quackity ducky and birdy and dove first because he was self-conscious of his hybridism and wings; I-"

"I love you." Karl finally cuts his rambling off, panting as he takes a second to breathe. "And I am begging you to take care of yourself."

Slowly, Sapnap turns to make eye contact with Karl. His eyes are still blank, but his bottom lip trembles.

"Throw me to the dirt, please, just be okay without me first."

Sapnap shakes his head slowly. The eye contact breaks, but only because the ravenette's breath is catching in his throat. "Karl-"

"You two!" A loud, gruff yell interrupts him, and Karl turns to see two large—like, shoulders a meter wide and so high the tall ceiling of the tavern is too small, large—men standing in the doorway of the bar.

Police, is the first thing that pops into Karl's mind, and they're staring right at them.

"Uh.." Sapnap clears his throat of tears. "Can we help you, officers?" Karl is frozen.

Before the brunette can even think of the implications of what the police of Las Nevadas looking for them could mean, he's being grabbed by rough hands and dragged away.

Faintly, he can hear Sapnap yelling about something or another. But his mind is blasting a song with connotations of pain and abandonment. It's not like Karl hasn't been arrested before; turns out not all timelines appreciate newcomers coming in with too much curiosity. But this is different.

Because now not only is exhaustion dragging on his bones and the cold numbing his skin and the pain tearing his heart: he is being dragged from the country of his lover, and is most likely never going to be allowed to return.

This is closure, he thinks, this is the final understanding that he is never going to get Quackity back. The cold burns through his thin shoes as they are dragged out of the bar and into the heavy snow. But his mind is only focused on one thing.

Throughout the entirety of standing before Quackity in the penthouse as the other spit his curses, and then wandering down the hallway alone, and then grasping for the ring in the cold: a part of him had always had some futile hope that maybe he could fix it. Maybe he could charm his way back into their lives.

But now, with a grip on his wrists so strong it makes his red skin white, and as his eyes watch Sapnap as he attempts to burn the police through their heat proof gloves, he knows it's a lost cause, he has completely and utterly lost them.

Karl wants to cry, but even if he had tears left, he's too exhausted to do anything but lower his head and stumble awkwardly toward the exit of Las Nevadas: The City Of Gold And Riches. The city of Quackity.

1030 words.