Drabbles

Late Night Thoughts

Paper was having a bit of trouble, mentally.

He usually got late-night thoughts, especially when he was sleep deprived.

He was doubting himself from within his blanket fortress. OJ was sleeping on the bed next to him, softly snoring while a pleasant dream plucked away at his heartstrings.

Paper groaned and flopped on his side, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to force himself to sleep.

Ah, but he couldn't.

He sighed in defeat and sat up, wincing slightly as his stiff shoulders' muscles pulled and sent a jolt of pain through his torso. He froze, cracked his neck, and looked up at the ceiling.

He hated life at Hotel OJ.

Paper understood that his friend had wanted to put his million-dollar prize into something for all the contestants, but he was aware of the flaws of the outcome.

Knife, specifically.

He still wasn't on good terms with him.

Quite the opposite.

Knife's said some things that made the pit of his stomach say, "Make it stop, please."

Guilt, maybe? Hurt? Paper didn't know anymore. All he knew was he hated it.

You know what? He hated himself. His stupid squeaky little voice, his inner demons, his temper. His fragile personality, his lack of empathy. His late night thoughts.

He released a shaky growl as tears welled in the corners of his eyes like a leaky tap. He clenched his hand into a fist and brought it to his face angrily.

He was crying in anger at himself, now, was he? Stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid. He couldn't handle a bully on his own without breaking down into tears and having a pity party, huh?

Paper grit his teeth. Grin and bear it, he thought. Grin and bear it like you always do.

He slowly forced a smile onto his face. Though he was shaking and holding back sobs, he'd still find a way to hide it.

He didn't want to wake up OJ with wails of despair. It was 12:00; too late in the night to be having a serious conversation.

OJ.

He turned to look at his best friend, only friend. His smile lost its force behind it and gradually became a genuine smile.

OJ was a good source of happiness and positive thoughts, he'd learned. He couldn't find a single flaw in him, besides his lack of leadership skills and put-the-others-first attitude. OJ didn't find much time to look after a single person anymore, as now he must look after twelve people, including Paper.

Since Balloon wasn't trusted, he wasn't allowed in the hotel. Taco hasn't been seen in years. Bow's dead.

Marshmallow was depressed about that if Paper remembered correctly.

Paper grunted and wiped away the last of his tears. He needed to stop being such a crybaby. Not everything was about him and his little bullying problem. There were other people to worry about.

He'd start with those people. He wanted to help them. It was Paper's job to make sure they were happy, and it was OJ's job to make sure they were fed, well rested and etcetera.

He sighed and grabbed his sheets, pulling them over himself and closing his eyes. He'd do it for him. He'd hang on for OJ.

He drifted to sleep soon after.