CAPTURED BEAUTY (Peter Steele x Reader)

SIX: All of The Flowers.

Peter knew he was in a mental sandpit. It wasn't just any grains of sand that pulled him under the next day, it was the doom that clung onto the ceiling above him. The past drowned him, sinking him into his mattress. Peter had no idea what had made him plummet to the depths of hell so early. Sadness had no schedule but life moved on.

Yet he felt he remained where everyone left him.

Behind.

One of his beloved feline companions, Nixon rested on his chest. The purrs vibrated his aching heart and he'd look at his pet and sigh. It seemed they always knew when he was sad. Peter also knew he had to give them breakfast and that task alone got him out of bed.

He'd traverse in the sea of meows that tangled with each morning stride he took to the kitchen.

"Don't worry, I won't let you starve.'' He'd mumble, Nixon and the others responding with eagerness and excitement for their morning food.

Peter took care of his cats' needs and then made himself some coffee. The void that suddenly filled his heart made him think about the reasoning behind such a mood drop. A dream, maybe?

If it was a dream, it lingered longer than needed, fogging up the sunrise through the blinds. It reminded him of the simple suggested dosage, one which he did not follow. When was the last time he'd even go to the doctors? That question alone made him huff through his nose.

The quiet of his domicile resided underground. A furnished basement that rightfully grew up with him reminded of the parts that were so loud. Peter knew today he'd be his biggest enemy. Where every bothersome narrow doorway he'd squeeze through would lead him to send his fist to the wall. Knowing that the bathroom had a mirror and he didn't even want to stare at it for too long because he'd puke from disgust. The self hatred now flushed in the toilet. The hangover of his heavy thoughts and empty bottles in the pipes he'd clean on the job. He had another day off and that was miserable. He had no big distraction from himself.

The crumbling of it all that not many could or even want to fix. So when his home phone rang, he'd answer, that frustration spewing out between his teeth.

"Hello?''

"Hey Pete, it's Y/n.''

Peter feels a tinge of guilt hit his chest and he sits himself down on his couch. Her voice alone grounded him from his angry stream of thoughts. He takes a deep breath and sits back.

"Hey, how's it going?''

"It's going well. You alright?''

"Yeah, I'm alright,'' Pete says, shrugging off the shit morning, "Just had a bit of a rude awakening. Horns honking 'n all.''

Peter hears Y/n chuckle on the other end. Suddenly his head doesn't sound as loud and then looks around to continue to find ways to settle himself.

"I woke up to the same thing. Nearly scared me to death. Hey..''

"Yeah?'' Peter says, listening. Y/n's voice really was the only thing that hadn't wanted him to smash his head in something. He shifted in his spot, Grizzelda resting beside him.

"Our date is today. Excited for it?''

Peter suddenly remembers and checks the date on his calendar. He hadn't told Y/n but he had specifically taken the day off to spend time with her. He didn't feel so mad at himself in the moment of the plans resurging from his mind.

"Absolutely. I'm picking you up soon so be ready, okay?''

"So early? You must be excited." Y/n laughs and Peter smiles.