te amo, lucy - nalu

00

HE WAS OBSESSED.

He caught it in the late stages, where his body was uncontrolled and weak. Him, having no use after killing his older brother, his family, could only deal with the aftermath of the pain. Having to embrace it, he dealt with it, alongside someone else.

Constant nightmares; she was there for him. They didn't speak, because she couldn't. He had rendered her throat useless and her body was a mangled mess. He hated himself for it, yet trudged on with living, if you could even call it that. He was a mindless being who survived off a beating heart.

He was confused on if she was living or not, because for her, everything was impossible. His brain and heart never agreed so in the end, a choice was never made and the subject was dropped completely. Dealing with the constant nightmares and memories, he merely wished for the love he couldn't see.

Waking up in a pink bed, he looked around the apartment. Clock reading twelve, he laid there. A warm, sticky liquid ran down his hands. Figuring he had clawed himself again in the night, he payed no mind to the crimson color and got up, walking into her bathroom.

Assuming she was at the therapist, doctors appointment, whatever varied in her schedule, he turned on the faucet and allowed the cool water to hit his face, wishing every time he did this a bad memory would be forgotten. Seeing her bloodied face in the tub, he closed his eyes, breathing heavily.

It's not real, he convinced himself. He felt like a mess, a monstrosity. Feeling a sharp pain in his back, he focused on other things, wishing the demon wouldn't return so suddenly. He has had the sudden jolts of demonization under control, but lately, his mind was foggy and clogged with too much to notice.

The door shut and he stood up from leaning against the bathroom cabinet, walking out to the main area where all the rooms connected. Seeing the girl with her crutches, he smiled a bit, glad to know she was starting to attempt to walk again. Usually, she'd be in a wheelchair.

Waving at her, she looked up, a small smile spreading across her face. Scars laid gently on her cheeks where she had been cut, almost representing a maniac's grin. Flinching at memories, he helped her to the bed where she sat and closed her eyes.

He moved and tucked her in, knowing a nurse would come later to check up on her. Lazily grinning up at him, she tugged on her gingerbread pajamas, trying to say something but not being able to talk. He looked at her and tried to figure out what her actions meant, thoroughly confused.

Pointing to the gingerbread, she opened her mouth and tried to represent eating, which meant she was likely hungry. Knowing from how early her appointments were, she had skipped breakfast so he had attempted to create pancakes. While it might have damaged her kitchen, the food was made and she would force him to clean the destruction area later.

Leaving the apartment complex, he wanted to go to the guild but was scared to. They would consider him a monster, and he really only could trust the blonde at this point for helping him overcome the trauma of killing half of his guild members, his family.

Not to mention his older brothers death, memories of a sweet family and how the blood of someone he loved was permanently engraved on his hands forever. Growling and shaking his head, he stormed off to his old cottage, knowing very well that it had been a good two months since he had been here.

Looking at the destroyed home, he sat on a log. He had caused his best friend mental and physical damage, and he hated himself for it. Hearing leaves rustle behind him, he ignored it, lost in his thoughts. There was a shifting next to him and he looked over, a scarlet sitting down with fall attire on.

Together, the two watched the falling leaves, neither saying a word. She looked over at him, one eye missing. He cringed, knowing it was his fault. "Don't beat yourself up over it." Was all she said before standing up, looking down to the ground and leaving him alone once again.