Loved You In Another Life // A Skephalo Story

Chapter 19

Skeppy POV

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Who am I to think Bad would actually want to be friends with me? Let alone be with me.

Obviously, I did something, but he won't say what.

And it's infuriating, because as much as I can never put him at much fault, he's never been good at communication, never been able to tell me what's going on.

And I can understand what he's going through, the reluctance to open up even about things even if they don't matter. But this matters, a lot.

It hurts more than anything, just realizing that I like him a whole lot more than I ever imagined, only to be cut off immediately.

And it's gone on for weeks, weeks of him acting like nothing has changed, weeks of avoiding me and giving it the guise of him being busy.

I've cried so much during this time, cried over things that don't even matter, like the air smelling like honey, and the sight of a happy couple. Meaningless things, stupid things. 2

This is what I get for falling in love with a demon, no matter how angelic he may be.

My only real escape from my thoughts is the dreams I have at night, but even that isn't as perfect as it usually is.

It's not like it usually is, I can feel the difference in the energy before anything even happens, the heaviness in the air.

And then it's there. The yelling, the crying. Something isn't right.

I can't even tell what we're yelling about, the voices too distorted, all blending together. But one thing is clear, I can hear it with absolutely no doubt.

"I hate you! I wish we never met!"

My heart stops, the air is still, the room is silent.

It takes a moment to realize I'm the one who said it, but it's already too late. He's running to the door, slamming it open even in the pouring rain, and leaving without even bothering to put on shoes.

I have to calm down, slow my breathing and think about what just happened before doing something even more stupid. But he's still out there in the rain, I have to help him.

Moving fast, I load the car with fluffy blankets and one of my hoodies, before setting off.

I drive for almost twenty minutes before finding him, huddled and shaking on a bench, his face coated with a mixture of tears and rain.

"Baby, I'm so sorry, please come home. You'll catch a cold."

He continues to ignore me, turning away, but I hoist him into my arms, carrying him bridal style back to my car. He doesn't say anything, not when I set him in the passenger seat, not when I force my hoodie over his head, and not when I swaddle him with blankets and buckle his seat, planting a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

The ride back is silent as well, safe for the gentle pattering of rain on the windshield.

When we're home, he doesn't make a move to get out of the car, so I pick him up and carry him to our shared bedroom, dropping him on the bed and wrapping my arms around him.

"I know you're mad at me, and I'm mad at myself too. I didn't mean it, I could never hate you. You're everything to me, Honey. I don't know how I could live without you." My words are choked with tears as I only hold him tighter.

He shuffles away from me, and for a second, I think he's only readjusting.

But, no. He stands up, leaving the room.