Picking Up the Pieces (Markiplier x reader)

Chapter 12

*(Y/N)'s P.O.V*

We spent a good 10 minutes one store, grabbing a few tops for me and another 10 minutes in another store to get me pants. Ironically, Andre got me sweatpants and a sweater, yet a few more items to add to my sweats induced closet. Five minutes into this store that sells "urban clothes", (*cough* urban outfitters *cough*) and well, being the Bi shit he is, Andre was helping me try on some of the jeans there.

"How about these ones?" I asked, coming out of the fitting room while doing my belt. The light skinned boy looked at me with a finger on his chin, judging me greatly.

"Hmmmmmm...." He judged even more. I was wearing a purple see-through top and these navy blue/ black jeans. The shirt was awfully tight and revealing and I couldn't breath in the jeans.

"Change the top into a long sleeved crop top, a tight one, and get a smaller size on the jeans..." He said. I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "If I were you, I'd get that, but oh well." We went on, trying on more clothes until we found something more human; black jeans and a white top with roses at the bottom of the shirt.

"So plain..." Andre whispered as he paid for the clothes.

"Whatever. At least I don't look like them Instagram hoes." I repiled and snatched the bag from the counter, leaving the store with the boy shoving back any change back into his pocket.

"Hey," I turned around and face him. "Thanks for everything." I slowed down so that I could walk beside him.

"Don't mention it." He repiled. "I know I have some nice fashion sense."

"Yeah, but no. Not just buying the clothes, but for actually saving me from that jail cell. I actually could have died without anyone knowing, but guess what? You came along and saved my ass. Deadass." I said.

"Oh..." He paused, his cheeks truing a bright red. "Yeah. Im glad t hear that I did something good with my life."

"Of course. This was like a small thing. You're only 18, a lot more cases like these are going to appear in your life. Just wait for it."

"And hey, I'm not as shaky as I used to be. Kinda. I still don't want to be touched by anyone..." I mumbled. Yeah, I feel like if someone placed thier hand on me, I would freak out. That's why I was so scared when Andre touched my hands.

"So now what?" I asked him.

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to get you back to Los Angeles?" He repiled. Then, a light bulb went off in his head. "Ah, I could ring up one of my friend who could actually drive."

"Wouldn't you think that'll be such a hassle?"

"Do you want to get home?" I kissed my teeth. "Thought so. And I don't think he'll care." He said, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

"Yo, can you do me a favour? There's this chick here and she needs a ride to Los Angele-"

"(Y/N) YOU-" I heard someone yell my name from behind me. As I turned around, I wished I didn't and ran the other way. Seconds later, I felt something pierce my back. And again and again until Andre came up and stepped in front of me, taking in all the bullets. 'How? How the hell did he find me? Why is he shooting me?' Similar thoughts ran through my head as me and Andre collapsed to the floor and people screamed and ran the opposite way.

"CALL A AMBULANCE!!" Someone yelled as they came up to me.

"N-no....save h-him..." I pointed to the limp Andre next to be before I passed out. 'Please don't tell me I'm dead. Don't tell me Andre's dead. I don't want to die...'