Blurry Face (yandere ticci Toby x reader) part: 2

/26/F҉L҉Y҉ M҉E҉ T҉O҉ T҉H҉E҉ M҉O҉O҉N҉

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           He didn't understand why the man beside him looked so miserable.

Nor did he want to try and understand.
He had more important subjects to attend to...
but he couldn't help but stare at the blond man, silent tears running down his pale face as he chugged what seemed to be his fifth drink.

The (H/c) haired man cleared his throat anxiously from where he sat at the bar, fidgeting around with the empty glass in his strong hands.
"Sir? Are... are you okay?"

The sobbing man beside him flinched, staring up at the stranger in absolute confusion.
A hazy, dazed out look overtook his watery eyes... probably the alcohol finally taking over.
"Hm? Yeah... I'm fine. It's just... just kids."

The (H/c) haired man hesitates to chuckle, trying to defuse the tense, grieving tension between the two men.
"Yeah, I must admit they're tough... but... I never realized that tough for someone to be crying at the bar!"
The man's subtle laugh wavers off to an abrupt end, the vibe of this guy's eyes on him felt so dead and empty it was like talking to a brick wall.
He swallows hard, desperate to keep the conversation going.
"Did... did they break a TV or something?"

"No... uh... no it's not like that... though I really... really wish it was."
He sighs, wiping away the incoming tears with the back of his veiny hand.
"We already have a kid. Her... her name is Lyra Rogers, age one. She's a sweet... sweet little thing... but... but my wife and I wanted another... and... and she...
she can't-"
His sentence cuts short with a strained, painful wail, his flushed face buried deep in his hands.

The young male beside Mr. Rogers- or also known as Richard- stared helplessly, not knowing what to do to comfort the grieving that ate this guy up.
"Oh... I'm... I'm sorry."

"No! No, it's fine, it's just..."
He shrugs, leaning back in his seat.
"That's life... y'know? How's... who's your little monster anyways?"
His voice slurred, drowning in the alcohol that he's consumed.

"Oh... um... her name's ________.
She's the same age as your kid. I'm so grateful to have her... she's so adorable.
I would never ask for a better daughter. She's perfect!"
Regardless of the circumstances the man couldn't help but smile at the thought of his daughter. His precious little girl.

At the sound of this a thought struck through Richard's mind.

And in that moment he didn't seem to care about who it would hurt.

"What's your... what do you go by?"

"Mr.______, I'm assuming you go by Mr. Rogers?"

"That's correct."
Even with the hazy look the blond male somehow seemed to focus his eyes, staring straight into the other man's.
"Y'know... Mr.______... my wife's mother is an immigrant from Germany.
She used to tell my daughter stories about this tall guy in the woods."
He takes an uneasy pause, chuckling to himself as he tries to regain his focus.
"I've heard that you could make deals with it, y'know?
A... a trade for something you really want. All you gotta do is give it a child... more like their soul... funny, right?"

He took a moment to just stare off into the void before immediately stumbling out of his seat. Leaving a tip on the wooden counter and waking to the door before abruptly turning on his heels to face Mr.______.
"Thank you, sir. Really... you gave me hope.
I wish... I wish the best of luck to your daughter. She's probably gonna need it."