Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

38 ~ Is Love Just An Illusion?

Tw:    

  "Do you have a fun name for him?" I ask curiously, leaning on my knees forward childishly. 

      "No, I do not have a 'fun name' for this ancient deity." He scoffs.

     "Can I give him one?" I ask.

      "No." He says firmly.

      "Why not? What harm can a little name do?" I groan, rolling my eyes.

He glares at me. "You're needier than Tubbo, a literal 12-year-old." 

 I shrug. "Hey, if you don't permit me, I'll just name him anyway. The permission was just me being the polite person I am."

     "As if," He scoffs. 

      "I'm very polite, I'd have you know." 

He stares at me.

I stare back.

      "Okay, I'm not that polite, but I can be if I need something." 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "Why are you like this." He gestures toward me.

      "Your creation, honey." I gesture toward myself.

His face twists upward faintly, before being forced down to remain neutral. I realized, then, what I said. 

     "What? It's not like I haven't called you that before." I scoff. 

     "No, but that was when we were dating." 

My smile falters and I stare at him. He was right. We weren't dating. Why was I speaking to him? Why did he make me laugh? There's nothing about this situation that's humorous. 

I clear my throat and turn away. 

     "Hey, it's your call if we date or not. You have complete and utter control." He enunciates this, eyes boring into mine.

I hum thoughtfully, looking him in the eye once more. "I don't know." 

He stays neutral. 

      "Last time we dated, you did try to kill me." I lift my hand, ticking off a finger. "And you did stab me." Another finger falls. "And punched me." I grit my teeth. "You about shot me." 

He lifts his hand, pushing down all of my fingers. "And more." 

I stare at his hand. He wraps his around mine. "I can play this game too, you know." 

He lifts his other hand, not restraining mine. "You constantly manipulate me. You forced me into being the fucking president. You constantly try to kill yourself and somehow it's my fault!" He ticks down his fingers the same way I had. "You killed my nephew. Practically the only family I have!" 

      "And last of all, oh last of all." He grips my hands tighter. "Your body count is higher than my kill count. And I was in a cult." 

My face falls from anger to sadness, to just a straight grimace. 

     "I don't--" I begin.

     "--You do!" He finishes. 

I stare at him.

He stares back. 

I sigh and lift my hands. "Can you just let me talk?" 

      "I've let you talk enough." He speaks lowly.

I shake my head. "I've talked, but not to my defence." 

He scoffs. "I'd love to hear it, Hon." 

     "I wasn't in the greatest state of mind." I try. 

He laughs now, directly into my face. "Oh yeah! Not being in the right state of mind? Yeah, you fucking killing Clay? Yeah, that's forgiven, your highness!"

    "You tried to kill me!" I yell out at him, gesturing toward him sporadically. 

    "I didn't try to kill you." He grumbles. "The only one I wanted dead was Tubbo." 

I stare at him, open-eyed. I'd assumed that's what he wanted, but to hear those words spoken to me directly, that. . . That scared me. 

     "Listen, I said it before, I'll gladly repeat it until it sticks in your head." He gets closer. "No one loves us, Alexis." 

I breathe out a gust of breath, looking up at him. 

      "We quite literally have no one but each other." He grips my hands as if grasping for any semblance of hope in my expression. "We have no one, but you and me."

I take my hands out of his embrace. "Why would you want Tubbo dead?" 

He scoffs. "Oh come on, I did it for you!" 

     "Why would you think I wanted Tubbo dead?" I shutter.

He grins. "Because, if he's gone, it's just me and you. We'd be alone together." 

My mouth hangs open, a shallow breath leaving my aching lungs. "Wh-Why would you even consider that? He's your son." 

His grin widens sickly. "So?" 

     "Listen, Alex." His voice drops to a whisper. "If anyone-- and I mean anyone, tries to get between us, I will find a way to get to them and silence them. We're meant for each other, and I'm not going to have someone like--like Karl get in the way of us."

     "No--. . ." I begin just as softly, shaking my head.

     "And if anyone tries to love you like I love you. . ." He lifts his finger to my forehead, imitating a gun. "You're dead too." He shoots.

I cough out a breath, a tear coming down my cheek and off my face. My body shakes and my breath feels shallow. He takes this weakness to grip my hands again, this time harder. I dart my eyes down toward our hands. Sobbing now.

I can't do this any more. I can't do this. Only a couple of months ago, I'd sworn to leave him, but that was before he became this deranged. Or has he always been like this? Is he right in what he had said earlier? Had I been the reason for this? It's always been my fault. Everything that's happened in my life, has come right back around to point to my forehead. 

Looking at him now, so close, so real, have I realized why I'm still here. I can try to leave him, but really, there's nothing I can do. If I broke up with him for good, he'd just kill me. Would death be an escape? Or would death lead to hell? I never knew for sure. 

But inside I knew, no matter what, even death wasn't truly safe. The concept of death being my sanctuary was defaced when I was ripped from heaven and forced down into the pool of my blood. I hated breathing, I hated hurting, and I hated myself more than ever. Even if I didn't breathe, I'd be only temporary. He'd find a way to bring me back to this forsaken place. 

I hiccup a breath, choking on my tears. He doesn't say a word but pulls me closer into a warm embrace. I wanted to pull away, I wanted to do anything. But now, just as it was earlier, I was paralysed. My body tingled and something I didn't know was possible, had happened. 

I pushed closer to him. 

The monster in front of me-- the monster I created. 

    "Life is temporary, but our love, honey, will be remembered."