Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

56~ Contingency

Tw:

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Water seeps from the walls and hits the concrete floors at a steady pace. I suppose that's what happens when you live in a bomb shelter. My gaze hovers over the sink, crammed with dishes and seeping with trash. I scowl, but can't find it in me to say anything.

I can't say I don't understand what it's like to live in filth, because that would be a lie. The days before Schlatt came along were hell. I'd wake up, shower, and work. By the time I got home, my energy would have already been expended. I would lay on my bed, and eventually fall asleep. Only to repeat the cycle anew.

With Schlatt, I find life a little easier.

He cleaned, cooked, and was generally a saint. He may have had obvious ulterior motives, but don't we all? I wish life hadn't ended like this. I wish I would have never run for president. If this had never happened, would we be happy? Would Tubbo still be alive?

Would I be happy?

Tears well in my eyes, and I lay my head back on the grimy table. His whole house reeked of something foul.

Or was that me? My blurry sight concentrates on the smear of blood across his table. I did that when I first sat down.

How much scrubbing would it take to rid my skin of this sin?

I focus instead on the window, drifting faintly into shadow, before regaining its initial shine.

Someone was outside.

The door opens hesitantly, slowly, and silently. Inside, walks Technoblade. The man staggers his way toward the table, eyes wide and mouth plastered into a grimace. He flops down in the chair opposite of me.

My eyes track him warily, but find him not a threat. Even if he were a threat, would it affect me any?

His hands grip the skull mask hiding his features and pull it down. He tears it completely off and flings it loosely across the table. The pig's eyes track his mask as it glides an inch from my hand. His eyes drag up my body, and he looks me in the eye.

His eyes widen, and he looks almost embarrassed. He lifts his chin before he shows too much, though.

"Quackity." He grinds out.

"Blade," I nod politely, swallowing the knot in my throat.

"What are you doing here?" His voice wavers dangerously.

"Same thing you're doing here," I respond flatly. "Hiding from my problems.

He looks insulted at first before evens out with a shrug. "Sounds about right." He stays quiet for a second, tapping his finger anxiously at the table. "Where's Wilbur?"

"Talking to Tommy, I assume," I wipe at my eyes, drying the tears at my cheeks. "I have no weapons, I am not a threat to you guys."

He scoffs. "Like you're a threat with a weapon."

I narrow my eyes, lifting my head to look him in the face. Then, I see him smiling. He's joking. This is his wry sense of humor people talk of.

I exhale a breath of air, shaking my head. "You're right."

He opens his mouth to speak but hesitates.

"You're mad at me?" Techno finally makes out.

I stare incredulously. "Huh?"

"You're mad at me." He reiterates this time more sternly.

"If I were mad at you, I'd be a fuckin' hypocrite." I bite out, eyes narrowing into a glare. "I had as much fault in killing that boy as you did."