SWEATER PAWS | CSCOOP X READER (completed)

march

wednesday, march 3rd, 2020. 7:54 pm.
cooper

i wonder what the fans think.

i've decided to call a break from being on any social media platform, and i hope that's the right choice for me. i can't possibly imagine being like this on camera.

just imagine... what a loser, right?

i feel bad for carson, noah, and travis. none of them deserve what i'm doing.

i went downstairs today. i ordered some takeout - in-n-out, if you're wondering. don't judge me, (y/n), yes i hate it but it's the only thing that could fill me up with nearly no cost.

i went downstairs to eat.

it ended with several shattered plates and shouting from the rest of the boys. they yelled at me like never before for something i couldn't control. i guess it's because i disrupted their stream.

but i don't care.

not anymore.

maybe it's just best for me to never leave my room.

not like i have a skateboard anymore anway.

after cooper came back upstairs, leaving the boys to clean up the mess he made, he shut the door painfully slowly, and jumped onto his bed.

he reached for the pillow and yelled, screaming out his lungs. he didn't care if they heard, he only cared about getting so tired that he couldn't feel anymore. so tired that he couldn't cry any more than he already has.

his next victim was his skateboard, which he instantly bashed against the corner of his protruding wall after getting up from the bed. he jumped on it several times until it finally broke into two halves, and even later on kicked it about the floorboards.

he was freaking out, losing control not only over his mind but also his body, and in the midst of his tears and his shouting, he took the many colored sweaters that didn't belong to him and chucked them out of his window. he didn't care where they landed, as long as they weren't surrounding him.

after a two-hour long nap, he awoke once more, and reached for the navy blue sweater which he always kept cuddled in with him under the sheets, but to no avail.

he placed his hands over his head in shame after realizing where all of (y/n)'s clothes were, and rushed downstairs to retrieve them from the front yard where they landed. dirty and cold, he placed the clothes in the washing machine and set it up, hopping back up the steps into his room.

having thrown the now clean and dry sweaters into the back of his closet, he restlessly laid in his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying every single painful memory ever since the beginning of the year.

and just like he promised, he hasn't come downstairs ever since.