50 shades of Red (gumshall/ Gumlee fanfic)

Red e or not.

It's a simple question. It wasn't complicated...It's a

Yes                         or                            No

Decide, I think, decide Gumball, decide.

But, then again, why would he ask me that? Did he like me too? Possibly....but absolutely impossible. I must have made him uncomfortable somehow. Me and my....my....myself really. Perhaps I showed it, through being me....just me.... And that, only that...freaked him out. It hurts so very much right now. To love. To think. To breath. My chest feels expanded, threatening to enlarge so much that it will explode exposing all of my built up feelings and thought of him over the years. All of them. The hate I felt when he was with someone else. The joy of his beautiful, glorious smiles. The loneliness when I was close to him, but never close enough. The sadness of the reality that he and I are not together, and that we would never be accepted.

Unlike me, people actually look up to Marshall, and many more people love him. How could I bear that? Bearing the weight of a thousand eyes on me creating a target the size of Marshall's legacy amongst them, practically bigger than life.

"Gumball,"

What should I do. How should I act? What would I say? What should I choose

I Can't tell him. It hurts so much to keep it inside, but I can't imagine how much it would hurt if I.... was actually rejected. Truly abandoned.

I Can't tell him

I don't have the courage. I am not a hero.

I am a coward

"GUMB-"finally, his voice brutally reaches my ears, I exhale heavily through my noise. He's grabbing my arm now, holding it tightly, as if I would run away. I do want to run away.

 I shake him off, cinching the crown of my nose attempting not to cry, and walk backwards a couple of steps, still attempting to recollect my thoughts. I'm not ready for this. I am not ready for him.

A silence falls between us.

A dead, slow, killing silence.

 "Why won't you answer me?"

"...I can't..."

"Can't? Can't what?" he shouts, raising his arms in objection, this time, making me a little unsteady "What!"

"I-i-i just can't okay," I can hardly control my stuttering and snap and face away from him. My eyes start to sting. Don't cry Gumball. Just not now, not right now. I start walking away from him back towards the party, until I am once again stopped by his strong grip.

"THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER!!" he yells at me and it scares me. I can see his eyes darken and I can feel his grip grow tighter. I am afraid of this Marshall.

I say nothing and I don't face him. How could I?

"ANSWER ME GUMBALL!"

This is not the Marshall I love.

"..."

"GUMBALL!"

This is not the Marshall I fell in love with.

"JUST GET YOUR GROSS HANDS OFF ME!!" I manage to yell. His grip is starting to hurt me.

"WHY CAN'T YOU LOOK AT ME?,"

"..."

Because you where not the man I thought you were. You are Marshall lee the vampire king, who never cared for pink prince like me.

"LOOK AT ME,"

"..." I do nothing. All I do is look away from him.

"I SAID, LOOK AT ME!!!," He yells.

"..."

"GLOB DAMMIT, GUMBALL, LOOK AT ME!!!!!" He grabs both of my shoulders tightly, to the point where it hurts. I struggle and shout, but his grip doesn't budge and he shouts back. I continue to struggle but trying hard not to look at him in the eye. My eyes sting gradually more and more. I feel my eyes get blurry and being filled with liquid.

"Just stop, Marshall."

I am done with this. I am done. I give up.

"WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME? WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME? WHY ARE YOU THE PROBLEM? WHY CAN'T YOU BE LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE? WHY CAN'T YOU LOOK AT ONLY, ONLY ME?" Now I am a problem? I am just your problem!? So all along. All this time. You just wanted me to praise you like you brainwashed subjects do. To love you unconditionally to the point I droll on the ground you walk on and kiss your shoes like they do?

"LISTEN TO ME MARSHAL!!!!" I whip my head to face him, eyes red, not from rage but from tears. My eyes still stinging. Still hurting.

"NO! JUST SHUT UP!! JUST SHUT UP"

"YOUR SCARING ME MARSHALL" I push him off with a considerable amount force by pressing my palms against his chest and stumble a little on my footing, sending grains of sand propelling into the air. I then run. I run like I have never run before, but my legs buckle with every step. I start to cry and it hurts like acid streaming down my face, but not as much as much as my aching, breaking heart under the Tuscan red night sky.