Not Just My Enemy.

Chapter 18

I had woken up alone.

Our room at the inn eerily silent, cold and empty. I don't know what time it was or when I'd even fallen asleep.

The bed next to me was disheveled, unmade, and blanket nearly on the floor.

So, Link came to his senses after all. He left silently, without any sort of goodbye. Most likely disgusted and horrified after thinking through everything I had admitted last night.

I deserved to be alone, and he deserves better. Maybe not what I wanted, but this is exactly what needed to happen. I needed to be left, isolated, alone.

If only the fucking pain in my chest would subside. I'm tired of feeling it

Deep breaths, it's fine. This is what you wanted.

Opening my eyes slowly, there was barely a point. Deep blood flooding the in-between layers of my eyes, darkening the hue and blocking any light from reaching my pupils. Effectively blinded with rage.

The limited vision I had left was all I needed, though. Grabbing anything in reach and throwing it. The chair by the desk into the wall, the bedding across the room. The loud echos of ruined furniture rang my ears even louder. Head spinning as I felt my veins pulse with adrenaline.

The tight, restricting pain in my throat made me want to claw it open. Shred the skin open and pull out the knot that was choking me with a searing ache.

Instead, my hands were pulling at my hair. I don't know when I ended up on the ground. Everything was so loud, as if I could hear the color red as silence echoed and my own heartbeat drummed around me.

Why does my chest fucking hurt?

I told him to leave. I don't fucking want him here. I hate him. Everything about him! I hate how nice he is to everyone, how hard he tries, how much he cares. I hate the way he smiles, laughs, walks, talks. Hate the way taps his hand while he's thinking and the way he rocks on his feet when he's excited.

He's so fucking annoying

Why does it hurt so fucking much to finally get what I've wanted all along? For him to leave me alone, be gone, permanently. No respawning bullshit, no-

Click

My head snapped to the door

My hands fell from my hair

I could barely see, but I could see enough. He was there, standing in the doorway. Satchel in hand.

He must have gone to the market.

He came back,

Why?

I could feel my eyes clear up again, vision slowly regaining as I stared at Link, dumbfounded. Aghast, amazed, disappointed, livid,

The pain in my chest subsided enough for me to keep myself together, though, for now.

He looked around, clearly trying to process the carnage that had come over our room. I followed his gaze, specifically at the chair with only one leg remaining against the wall.

I know he wanted to ask, what had happened, why did I do it, what the hell was wrong with me. Link didn't, though. Too heroic and dreadfully perfect for that. Instead, I watched him as he sat the bag down onto the bed and kneel down in front of me. He pulled at my hands, which I let him take control of as he opened my fists to pull the hair out of them. Not saying anything, not judgmental or rude, just calmly holding onto my hands once they were free from my unrooted tangles.

Time ticked by slow, but not painfully so. The burning subsided, vision cleared up, and heart beat slowed down. I kept my eyes on our hands, his warm and comfortable compared to mine.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" After a while he asked, voice soft and low, as if trying not to startle anything.

I shook my head at Link, not looking up from our hands. Disrespectful, but I couldn't trust my own voice at the moment. A careful balancing act to keep emotions at bay. "That's okay," he continued, picking his words slow and carefully. "Was it because of me?"

How I hate him. No, I cut my thoughts back, you hate this feeling.

After a moment of consideration, I stayed still. There really was no point in lying. Though, I'd definitely admitted more truths lately that I'm used to or comfortable with, and he didn't need that guilt. He didn't do anything wrong but come back.

I'd had a tantrum like a stupid child, and he was here to take care of me as if I was one, too. Truthfully, I am pathetic.

"No," I finally replied, feeling my tongue press behind my teeth as I struggled to find any reasonable answer that wouldn't turn into a mess of panicked word vomit. "I don't handle... anything well."

Link just nodded, a gently curt nod before squeezing one of my hands. "That's fine," a small smile tugging at his lips. Why is he always so calm? Understanding? "You're getting better, for sure. I'm impressed. Happy for you."

My mind went blank at that- someone was. Happy? For him? It didn't add up. Nothing ever ads up, Link never makes sense or ever acts like a normal person.

I'm not sure when I had moved my hands away from his, or when I pulled them up to hold each side of his face. Watching Links features, wide-eyed in curiosity. Admiration...? That didn't quite feel right. Amusement, maybe. I'm in that state, the one directly after coming back from a horrible panic attack. Where you don't quite feel awake or real yet... Despite being aware, I couldn't quite pull myself out of it just yet. And that mental space was doing its best to keep me focused on just how blue his eyes seemed at the moment.

"Can I... can I kiss you again?"

[A/N]
Here have a treat after 10 years of slow burn I guess (it's not a treat it's an edge)