𝕋ouch 𝕊tarved

ℂ𝕆ℕ𝔽𝔼𝕊𝕊𝕀𝕆ℕ

Description: An argument between two best friends leads to a regected confession.

𝙏𝙒: 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙎, 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙊𝘾𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙋𝙏𝙎𝘿, 𝙄𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙄𝙀𝘿 𝙍𝘼𝙋𝙀

Words: 1744

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I shuttered as the cool air coiled around my body when I stepped out of the warm homely apartment "you sure you want to leave this early" the deep rumble of corpses voice brings me back to reality, I turn on my heel his face is fresh from sleep, bruises under his eyes had faded, not as dark as yesterday, his lips were red and bitten from focusing when he was editing the final touches in a video, his skin looked paler as the sun shone down on us, he looked gorgeous, I huff pushing the thought from my mind "I'll be back" I reach to pat corpses head as he pouts and pretend not to notice the way he leans into it or the reddening pink of his cheeks spreading down his neck, I pretend not to wonder if the flush spreads to his chest, he moves my hand away acting annoyed and waves as I back up letting my hand slide along the cold rail "I miss you already" I roll my eyes and try to forget the way his words sting at my heart he pouts and rubs his head "your clingy, corpse, chill out" I pull a dented pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and stick my hand out to grab the lighter from corpses hand "it's only a job you big baby, go distract yourself in that room of yours and I'll be back in no time" I look down at the younger and feel a strange pang in my chest as he looks back up with wide eyes that could almost compare to a small deer if it weren't how edgy he presents himself and the bags under his eyes I could compare him to a baby deer staring up at me as if I just shown him that I could do the coolest thing in the world "but I'll be so bored, nothing is fun without you" I feel a since of pride pang in my chest, getting corpse to wine like this was hard he tugs on my sleeve as I begin to walk away "your gonna survive" I step down the rickety stairs trying to ignore the cold grip on my heart as I further myself from him "you know you don't have to use the fire escape every time you leave n' shit" I roll my eyes as he adjusts his eyepatch, my lips quirk in a barely there smile when I notice it's the one I drew a sad frog on, he crosses his arms "you know that there's a little old lady downstairs that without fail always catches me on my way out and makes me an hour late" my eyebrow lifts as I mock is pose, he rolls his eyes and steps down to me opening his arms as he does expecting a hug, expecting affection, I shake my head and thread my fingers through his hair the most I can manage, I ignore the familiar feeling of the action in favor of is soft warm locks, My stomach flutters at the thought of doing this all of the time; having corpse become a winey clingy mess for only me, I realize what I'm thinking as corpse nuzzles his head into my hand, just barely, and as if I'd been shocked I jerked back and stepped a little away from him "gonna be late" I shake his saddened confused stare out of my brain and hop down the steps two at a time needing to get as far away from whatever I felt around him as possible.

꧁-------------꧂

I flick my third cigarette away from me, corpses voice scolding me for my bad habit in the back of my mind as I work my way through the small distracted crowd lost in thinking about what was going through my head earlier, I twisted my hands together as I remember how my dad had done to me every time he left for work; smiled his sickly twisted smile and waved his big gnarled hand at me, only at me, his eyes would always only be on me, I pulled my lighter out of my pocket to fiddle with it trying to push down the feeling of dread "L/N what are you doing here, your off today" I looked up from my shoes not realizing that I had made it to the shop nor that I hadn't checked the new schedule "oh?" My manager came up to me and I'm pulled into my head as he takes me from the shop, I remember my dad his strong hands manhandling me out of the house his hands bruising fingerprints into my shoulders as I caught him with yet another woman in my moms bed, I still remember the feeling of dread as he pushed me into the wet grass face down, he hadn't even bothered to put himself away before yelling and grabbing me out of the house, I struggled out of my managers grasp, not wanting to feel choked up by his bruising grip "got it boss no need to touch me" I didn't bother looking at his confused glare as I booked it to the alley way, a short cut to corpses apartment, pushing past the sickly old lady trying to tell me about the dead smell in her room, I try to stop myself from remembering the blood smell when I got home and the rush of seeing my mom on the floor and the dead smell she carried, hot tears brought me back to the present and in front of corpse standing confused at his door, he grabs my sleeve, barely brushing his warm fingers against my cold hand, barely touching my aching skin.

I couldn't get my head off of his warmth and when we got inside I didn't know we were sitting at the table until the strong smell of his favorite coffee, something I had grew to associate with him, registered in my mind and corpses hand waving in front of my face brought a crushing feeling, I had to get out, I couldn't stand being around him or anyone "you all in there" he smiles like it was nothing, something I would usually feel comforted by but now it brings an even more feeling of dread, no knowing his intentions and he sits down across from me with his own cup, so close to me, close enough so our knees brush when he moves, invading an invisible box I created to protect me "no" I bring my hand up to my face and rub a little spot of ink on my forehead, corpse looks worried before grabbing my hand away from my face, his touch soft, grounding, almost, "what's wrong" I shake my head and take my hand away from his grasp to bring the mug up to my lips and sip the bitter coffee, I feel a shock of nervousness surge through my body, as corpses face grows agitated, i long to tell him so he can make this better somehow like he always does, but my dads voice rings through my head, like a bell in the dark, loud and in every direction, he's whispering, so close to my ear, telling me not to tell anyone anything "something is wrong, don't lie to me" corpse is standing in front of me now his face showing more concern than anything that has ever been directed towards me, I feel a prick of guilt, he's always tryed so hard to take care of me "what's wrong with you y/n you've got to tell me" I shake my head and stare up at him furrowing my eyebrows, I try to calm down, try to rationalize but the trapped feeling and the cold stare of my dad crawls up my throat "why do you care so much" I lean back to look at him, forcing it out regretting raising my voice when his face morphs from confusion to surprise to anger "because I love you" without missing a beat, my heart skips at the words, his frantic frustrated voice replaced with my dads cold mocking one, his eyes widen and he attempts to get closer, close like my dad once did "wait I-" I push my chair back disgusted that he feels like that towards me, disgusted that I can only think of my father, disgusted that his presence causes pain and scared that the warmth of him was replaced with the cold hard of my dad "I've gotta go." I felt myself step back not able to tear my eyes away from his slumped defeated frame, not able to get the image of my dads pointing and laughing "Please don't leave" a shaking hand reaches out to grab my sleeve, I jerk and move back, scared that I'd feel the man that had caused me so much grief.

I could feel a recklessness bubbling from my chest rising as bile in my throat as a slip of paper landed carefully to the floor, I couldn't care when corpse picked it up to read it, I couldn't care about the life that seemed to float out in tears on his cheeks, I couldn't care that I, someone corpse had grown to care for, to trust, to love, was going to be put on a long list of people that just keep leaving him, I couldn't care when corpse shoved the paper too my chest or when he fell to his knees and sobbed, the sound was distant to the ringing in my ears, his voice was far away when he screamed for me to get out, his touch was sandpaper and angry when he grabbed my bicep, I couldn't care when my hand stung with fresh cuts and warm blood, the reality of what I had done fell on me, like dropping an anvil, my breath grew unsteady and fast my eyes widened at the sight of someone so close to me huddled on the ground cradling his mouth where my fist had collided "shit" my voice was distant and in recognizable "corpse" I hesitated, spluttering, my mouth forming words but my voice wouldn't come out, I fucked up, "get out" corpse didn't, couldn't look at me, couldn't bare to process that someone he held so dearly had punched him, instead he pointed, he'd his arm up, finger outstretched to the door "leave" and I did.