Hidden Feelings {[Masky x Hoodie fanfic]}

5 - Patience (H)

I got up after I was sure Masky was gone. I wouldn't be able to stand much interaction with him, even though what I knew of "love" told me I should be obsessed.

Our room was cold, as usual, and I got dressed as quickly as I could. Even though I wouldn't be going outside until much later, I pulled the mask over my face. If anything, it acted like a balaclava of sorts to keep the warmth in, and it made me feel a little more secure. Key word being little.

I sighed and walked to the large window we had on one wall of our room. I guess we were lucky enough to have that; there was a great view of the forest from here, and the unkept lawn behind the mansion. I went to walk away from the window when something caught my eye outside. Masky had wandered out there, and his jacket zip must've caught the rising sun. (As with most of the other creepypastas and proxies, my low attention span never let me miss anything sparkly.)

I watched as he threw his head back to swallow, stood still for a moment, then started fighting an invisible enemy. He was good, even though I couldn't see who he was fighting, until he hesitated. What did he see? I may never know, but he fell to the ground in what seemed to be anguish.

I looked away. What had he seen? I knew the pill he had swallowed, I took the same one, sometimes. It was terrifying, seeing everything come to life and try to kill you.

A thought struck my mind: what if he had seen a 'who', not a 'what'...? Who could it be? My mind was racing all of a sudden. Could it be Jeff? No, they hate each other. Jane, maybe? They both have the whole black-lips-black-eyes thing going on, and--

Get a grip of yourself, a level voice in my head told me. So what if he was crying over a hallucination? It's just that, a mirage. A figure of his imagination. Probably just someone he's... Good... Good friends with.

It had a point.

Still, I doubted he would feel that kind of sympathy for me: I'm just someone he can talk to, talk at. I don't even have much of my own to say. Ever, really.

The click of the room's door handle snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, Masky." Wait. Think this through. What are you doing? "I need to talk to you."

• • •

What? You're going to make a fool of yourself. Keep your stupid mouth shut...

"Yeah?" His voice was behind me. I hadn't looked back, but I had known it was him. No one else uses the door. "What is it?"

I turned now, looking at him then down instinctively. "I... Do you... I saw you training,"

I wasn't sure through my mask, but I thought I saw him stiffened slightly. "You did...?"

"Yeah." I had to keep my calm. I'm a monotone. No emotion. Not. Human. "You fell, to your knees."

"I guess I did." He turned around, taking off his sweater and sitting on the bed with a creak. Neither of us said anything for a few moments.

"Who did you see?"

More silence.
I looked over and saw him staring down at his hands, his mask hiding his expression. "...why do you need to know?"

I shrugged. "I don't." I went over to my side of the room and pretended to mess around in a drawer. He said something too quiet to hear, and got up as I turned around to look at him. "What was that?"

"I said," he repeated, taking his turn to look out of the window, "it was you."