Darkstache Mini-Stories

Story Five

This next story was written with the prompt "Please don't regret me" so as you assume, it's pretty sad. Warning for fighting, panic, and disassociation.
"I WISH I NEVER MET YOU!" The words echoed through the empty corridor, making the man's face drop, the anger written on it fading to an expression of guilt and hurt. He expected an apology, an "I didn't mean it", something to follow the words. But there was nothing but an angered growl.
Dark just walked away, just left him there alone, and he could feel the tears dripping down his cheeks as the sentence bounced around in his mind, as if it were an endless echo chamber. They regretted meeting him...Did that mean they regretted all that came after, too?
He didn't realize that he had moved to their bedroom, he didn't understand how he got there. But then again, he never understood how the universe worked. He had accepted the twists and turns of this reality, and yet, he couldn't accept this.
Wil almost collapsed when he stepped his way over to the bed, his eyes burning, and vision blurred with tears. He couldn't understand this. He couldn't think. A choked whine came from his throat, but nobody was around to hear it. His heart raced with his mind, as if trying to keep up with the thoughts.
"I'm sorry..." He spoke to the empty room, his breathing uneven, he could feel himself gasping for air, like their words had pushed him underwater. "I didn't...I didn't mean to hurt...I didn't..." He tried, prayed, struggled to get the words out, only hoping that somehow Dark was listening to him.
"You're...The o-one...One good thing...That's ever happened to me..." He felt like someone was clawing at his throat, like the walls were pushing in on him, the room was blurry, his chest hurt from heaving, his head pounded, he wanted this to be a dream. He wanted to pass out on the bed and wake up with their arms around him.
He closed his eyes, choking on his sobs as he tried to speak to nobody, as he tried to claw his way out of his thoughts, thick and commanding, like tar. Just as he felt himself struggling to stay awake, to get what he needed, and focus on the world around him, he heard the soft ringing that always invited him to calm.
"Breathe, Wilford, breathe." He shook his head, eyes clenched shut, fists gripping the sheets beside him as if it was the only thing tethering him to this reality. "Wil, please..." He gasped for air, sobbing and trying his hardest just to breathe, just breathe, just like they had asked. He just couldn't keep it steady, not long enough to feel okay again.
Cold hands were placed over his own, and Wilford could hear their soft breaths as he took their hand, squeezed tightly, held on, like they were pulling him out of the water. He opened his eyes, still blurred with tears, and could barely make out the black lines streaming down their face.
He felt his hand being lifted, Dark had taken it to their cheek, damp with their own tears. That was what seemed to help the most. He gently rubbed their skin, cold and soothing under his palm, but he could only manage to whisper one thing. "P-Please...Don't regret me..."
They seemed to choke on their own breath for a moment, and Wil could barely make out more tears slipping down their face. "I don't. I don't regret you Wilford, I never would, I'm so sorry..." He felt his chest lighten, felt the fog lift from around his head. "I love you, I love you so much...I should have never said that to you. I don't have a right to be with you, I don't..."
He hushed them, hushed their apologies and pulled them close, allowing them to sob against his chest. He did the same, pressing his head against their shoulder and crying all his feelings out.
They just sat there for a moment, holding each other tightly, keeping one another safe, content as they could be in such a heavy moment. But when there were no more tears to be shed, when the words had faded in his mind and Wil was calm enough to breathe by himself, he pulled away and looked into the others shimmering, guilty eyes.
They looked down at his shirt, soaked with black tears, and laughed to themself. "I...I ruined your clothes, again..." That was something that made them both laugh, and Wilford tugged at his shirt, now stained and uncomfortable. "I'll borrow one of yours." They nodded at the idea, and Wil couldn't help but sigh.
"Let's never fight again...Not over anything, no matter how mad we are." Dark seemed to agree with the idea, and they pulled themself up onto the bed, cradling their husband in their arms and letting out their own sigh of relief.
"Never again."