☽ Troublemaker ☾《Nightkiller》𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱

☽ Chapter 5: Cracks ☾

☽ Previously on Troublemaker... ☾

I looked back down at Killer. Even though this has happened before, I've never seen him pass out from another teammate- nevertheless, get his own feelings back. Killer was also quite strong. He would spend hours and hours fighting Horror or Dust if it meant that he would have the sweet taste of victory.

Killer's heart flickered, causing him to whimper quietly and shift his position.

I was a little worried, and I was embarrassed to admit it. But if he passed out from something other than good morals, then we have a bigger force on our hands. And I need to figure out what it is, no matter the cost.

☽ ~~~ ☾

May contain sensitive content. Reader's discretion is advised.

No one's POV

"Hmm... Nighty, is that you?" Killer slurred, struggling to open his eyes. He felt as if there was someone on him, preventing him from moving away. But of course, he'd recognize the smooth feel of Nightmare's silk duvet. He's been here enough times to remember.

"...Yeah. You know, I really hate you."

A pang went off in his heart. What happened? Killer really thought they were getting along well. And it was true. Nightmare hadn't hit him in a month, which was a good record considering the act used to be daily.

"...Why?" he mumbled, salty tears welling up in his eyes. Nightmare leaned forward and wiped them off.

"You constantly make me trouble about you. Nightmare isn't always going to be here for you," he murmured back. Killer opened his eyes. (?)

The room was quite dark, with only a few blue tones of light filtering in through the black curtains. It was a late sunset, he supposed. Deadly silent. No distant yelling of his teammates. In Nightmare's headquarters, this was common. Making a sound in here would be like screaming at a funeral. Or maybe a library would make more sense. But it wouldn't be the right mood.

"I'm sorry... I'll get back to work first thing in the morning..." Killer croaked, almost afraid. But just almost. What's the use of being afraid if you have nothing to lose? The skeleton just needed a glass of water. Maybe an hour of sleep. Then he'd get back to work, knowing that the watchful snitch Cross would do anything to tarnish his reputation. This was how it was every day. Three hours of sleep. A cracker for breakfast. A cup of coffee for lunch. A sandwich for dinner. Three hours of sleep. Waiting for the next break day. Waiting for the discharge being death. 

Silence. The wheezing that shouldn't be heard.

"Don't. Take a rest. Do you want tea or hot chocolate?" The taller replied, avoiding the apology. A good drink always got Killer in a good mood. An annoying one mostly, but one that would make Nightmare smile slightly. Hot chocolate made Killer hyper, but he loved chocolate. An assortment of bunny-shaped pralines for his 19th birthday brought Kills to tears. 

"I want to fuck," Killer answered, looking away. Nightmare was shocked by the smaller's answers once again. Was it a coping mechanism, or was he trying to quiet both of them down? 

"But sex is your work."

"I don't feel right without it."

The conversation picked up the pace, and Nightmare held his consort- no, his paramour, in his arms tightly, like he was afraid if they didn't have physical contact the communication between the two would falter and they would both fall silent again.

Killer realized he was in a lowcut nightgown, instead of the ripped hoodie that he was wearing before. He was uncomfortable with the obsessive staring, but it wasn't like he'd get used to it anytime in the future.