DRAMAtical Murder Disorder Short Stories

She Will Be Loved

Clear x Depressed!Reader

This is a songfic. Remember Maroon 5 when they were cool? Get on YouTube and play "She Will Be Loved."

    You had nothing to be depressed about. That's what everyone said. And yet you felt like piece by little piece was taken from you every time somebody crushed your self-esteem. Whether it be from someone who you just didn't appeal to or your family, someone was there to take your pride away yet again. That explained why you were out rather than spending time with anyone. The worst part was, after what you've been through, you've felt that a guy in your life would perhaps take the pain away. But over and over you've been rejected, friend-zoned, or pitied. Whenever you were able to get a date, they always just moved on to another girl or told the truth about how they really felt. It made you feel sick.

Beauty queen of only 18,
She had some trouble with herself.

    You had one thing in your life that could always make you happy. And that was your dear friend Clear. The strange white-haired man with the gas mask and umbrella had noticed your struggle from afar and fell for you. Out of love he lent a hand to you, but you took it as a friendly gesture, never returning his feelings. Although it broke him that you were oblivious to what he wanted, he was satisfied with the fact that you two were at least good friends. He could at least spend time with you, and he was at least your shoulder to cry on when you have had yet another heartbreak.

He was always there to help her,
she always belonged to someone else.

    Although he felt content being your good friend, seeing another man at your side always ripped his heart in two. Then to little itty-bitty pieces when they stomped on your love ungratefully. You didn't deserve the treatment you were getting, and he told you every day. But no matter how many hints he would give you, you remained oblivious to him. Behind this friendship you would see in uplifting novels was a hectic love catastrophe.

I drove for miles and miles and
wound up at your door.

    Clear watched you through the window of your balcony as it poured. It was in these times when the silly boy would forget to use his umbrella. The starry sky was so inky that your room seemed to be decently lit. With your night light on, Clear could see you clear as day. Your bed was placed horizontally along a wall, so your sleeping face was in plain sight, there for him to admire all night. His was so fixed on his staring that he hadn't realized you had opened your eyes until tears started coming out. Clear's eyes widened. He didn't bother to conceal himself, rather he walked over to your window and tapped lightly. Frantically wiping off your tears, you looked out the window to see him, a pained look upon his handsome yet childish features. You got out of bed and headed to the window, opening it for him.

    "Hey, Clear. What are you doing? It's 2 am." You said tiredly. Clear didn't respond. Instead he pulled you in his arms, resting his lips atop your head to kiss it. He took in your scent with a silent sniff. This is what he loves most; cradling you in his arms to give you comfort. He was driven out of his thoughts when he felt you shiver.

    "Were you just standing in the rain this whole time, Clear?" You half whispered half yelled, and he nodded. "I was watching over you, ______." He said with a light voice, sounding more affectionate than usual. Pulling out of his hold, much to his chagrin, you turned and headed toward your bedroom door. "I have some of my dad's clothes in the dryer. I'll be right back." You made sure to close your door as silently as possible, and tip-toed down the stairs toward the laundry room.