Hi. Yes, I'm still working on my fic. Here's a deleted scene from chapter 2 of Allow Me to Save You Again because it didn't really fit the narrative I was going for (it was too wholesome and gave Dark more information than I wanted him to have). Another flashback within a flashback, this time focusing on Dark.
That couldâve gone better. Dark took a mouthful of the cake, grimacing at the slightly bittersweet taste. He should have known. Dark blinked at the thought, surprise overtaking the bitter taste. âHe should have knownâ? He looked down at the cake on his plate. But⌠wasnât this the first timeâ
âBlegh!â Dark pushed his plate over to Chosen. âItâs bitter.â
Chosen audibly sighed, and passed him the receipt. âMatcha Cake, eight count.â He raised an eyebrow to make sure Dark was following. âMatcha. The flavor thatâs known to be bitter? Itâs in the godd/mn name.â
âBut itâs a cake!â Dark protested, stabbing his fork into one of Chosenâs custard tarts. âHow was I supposed to know it wasnât any different?! Besides, this is a sweets shop. By your logic, everything here should be sweet!â He took a spiteful bite out of the tart.
Gooey happiness flooded into Darkâs mouth. Now, thatâs what he was talking about! Sweets were meant to be sweet, nothing else! He swiped another tart from Chosenâs plate and popped it into his mouth whole.
It was the first time heâd eaten real foodâ well, real in Darkâs senseâ with Chosen. His friendâs palette consisted only of his subpar cookingâ made through cooking skills Chosen he insisted was âgood enoughâ. Dark never understood it. For someone named âThe Chosen Oneâ, he certainly wouldnât be the one heâd choose to make his dinner. Itâd gotten to the point where he had to regularly sneak out by himself to steal himself some real food from the neighboring city.
After escaping from their creator, the duo had landed on a grassy cliffside. They stumbled upon an abandoned house to rest and recuperate.
But even when their physical wounds were healed, some things still lingered.
Despite being completely healed, Chosen wouldnât go outside. He would stay in the darkest corners of the house, away from the light of the computers above them. His powers went rampant frequently, in the most inconvenient of times. Some nights, Dark would wake up coughing as smoke from Chosenâs fire filled the house. Other times, heâd be woken up by erratic flashes of lightning or the numbing chill of frostbite.
It got to the point where Dark wouldnât even bother sleeping at night. The only rest he gave himself were the occasional nap throughout the day. By night, he would lay next to Chosen, wide awake as the elemental powerhouse beside him showed off his power.
He never spoke of anything that happened before Darkâs creation. But Dark could piece together the clues:
One, Chosenâs spontaneous bursts of power happened when his emotions were high.
Two, he kept muttering something about ads.
Three, it had something to do with their creator.
Well, no s/it. Of course it had something to do with their creator. Theyâd already established that he was a son of a b/tch when they teamed up to destroy his PC. They hated him! As for everything else, Dark didnât have an easy solution for. His powers were his to use and refamiliarize with. Ads? He failed to see how that was related to anything. But not knowing the solution wasnât an excuse to not try to help.
It was only after so much hemming and hawing that he finally got Chosen to agree to join him in a quick outing. He got him a jacket, fit with a large hood to cover his face in shadow to hide him from the PCs above them. It was an unreasonable worry- Dark had gone out many times and Alan hadnât shown up at their door yet- but if that was what got him out of the house, Dark wouldnât say anything.
It was the same hood that covered Chosenâs expression as Dark realized with a start Chosen hadnât moved or spoken in a while He sat frozen in his seat, a half-eaten custard in his hand.
âErr⌠Chosen?â Dark set his fork down and waved his hand in front of his face for a reaction. Nothing. âMan, donât be such aâŚâ
The words died in his throat as he noticed a drop fall from his face. âChosenâŚ?â he asked again, softer this time.
Dark jumped back as Chosenâs body erupted into flames. The edges of the jacket caught on fire- a clear indication Chosen wasnât in control. And that could only mean one thing.
Dark whipped around to glare at the customers around them in the tiny pastry shop. Many were looking over at themâ granted, a stick on fire was definitely not something they saw everyday. Dark eyed each and every one of them, feeling a sense of ecstasy as a few shrank back from his gaze.
It was something, something in this shop, that had triggered his friend.
He formed a ball of energy in his hand.Â
And he was going to destroy it.
