Danger Tits

So…

So…

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What was she supposed to tell him? Was she supposed to act like the Lute he currently knew? He had no idea what was yet to come, what would be inevitable for her. There was no talking to him in order to stop it, there was no “change one small thing and avoid it altogether”, it was simply the way things were always going to be. So even if she told him everything and even if he swore he’d do a thousand things to change it, it wouldn’t do a damn thing to save her.

She would die.

And it would be his fault.

But at least she got to talk to him now, the way he was before that night. She could get another glimpse of her best friend when he still loved her. Before be looked at her like that. Before he kicked her out of their band. Before he told her she was meaningless and being used yet again.

This GG was still hers and she could stand to indulge in feeling it a little, right?

“Hey, Geeg.”

He helped her into the shower and got in himself. She didn't question why he was joining her, it seemed innate to her that he wouldn't want to leave her both for emotional comfort and for fear she might not even be real and he would have to sit and wonder what tomorrow would actually bring. She knew him so well, inside and out, just like he knew her. That's how he knew exactly what words to say to cut her the deepest.

But that wasn't happening right now. That was tomorrow's tragedy. For now, she stood under the water, him positioning her under the running water so that it hit her the most. It released the pent up breath from her chest as water soaked her long blonde hair and collected onto her lashes when she closed her eyes to feel its soothing nature.

The water wasn't alone in gracing her body, GG's arms also wrapped around her, holding her like they were dancing intimately in a world no one else belonged in. She really should hate him. She should hate him for his anger, for his outburst... she should hate him for all the love he hadn't given her for the last year and a half until now when he was told he was going to lose her. Until it was too late. But the most comforting feeling right now was his wet skin against hers, the way his torso fit against hers and cradled it like it fit there naturally, a benefit to his height compared to hers, even though he had seen it as such a negative sometimes.

His fingers tangled into the dripping tendrils of her hair as she felt his face press against the top of her head, it gave her the perfect amount of space to hide hers into his chest and neck, absorbing whatever of his love she could before both it and her are removed from life.

So…

Six months. It was… Very strange to have this kind of relationship with Lute. Her choice of leaving him and being free with her life did a blow to him that he wasn’t sure could be healed. So many years of thinking that everything would always turn out in his favor, that he was invincible, a hero, always getting the girl. But… That wasn’t reality and that never was reality.

The first month was the hardest, suffering in silence, seeing her here and there and just offering a friendly smile from time to time. There wasn’t much of a reason for him to approach her and the times he did it would typically be needless small talk between almost strangers. She had her afterlife and he had his…

And what did he do with that afterlife? Well, the times he found himself alone, Adam figured out just how emotionally driven everything he did was. Having ‘reconciled’ with Lute, he would be cursed with no goals for himself. Each time he sat down to write music, nothing would come to mind, he’d sit at his desk for hours trying to scribble something down only to end up crumpling it up and tossing it away.

Adam knew he shouldn’t be making anymore songs about Lute, but… That’s where his passion came from. It ended up giving him horrible writers block.

He could hear the door to her home open and close just next door and he listened for a moment. Each beat of his heart thumped in his ears as he swore these walls were as thin as paper just to add to the pain he felt as Adam was listening for a certain voice in particular.

In the time that had passed, Lute had started dating and within a short amount of time, she found someone to be with. The insurmountable anguish he felt was a torture that Hell only wished it could produce. Adam sat listening for the man’s voice. After a few minutes of nothing, Adam dared to try something new… maybe it was overstepping boundaries, maybe not. But he… Missed her.

In a matter of a minute, Adam arrived at Lute’s door and knocked and once she answered, he would have his guitar in hand, a half smile and he’d reveal the truth.

With a mood higher than it’s been in a long time, Adam walks back into his home, determined to learn more and impress her with how well and how fast he could learn but when his door shuts and making it to his kitchen, he heard her. Little sniffles that slowly turned to loud sounds of her crying in her bed. Adam sat in his own, just opposite from where hers was positioned, separated from a wall between them.

At first he sat up, looking at the wall like he could see her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her, till he soon laid down, head on his pillow and listening to such a awful sound like this was some sort of divine punishment and all he could think of was why? Why was she so upset? They had an awesome time together! Was it hurting her? Did he say something? Maybe… She’ll tell him. Yea. Lute always tells him when he fucks up. Cause that was Lute, that’s who she was and would be towards him still… right?

——

“D chord. C chord. C sharp and…” His finger hits a note on one of the keys while playing the piano. Its tune rang out, low and long as he held the key down, trying to think of what the hell that note was. “Hold on. Give me a minute, I know this.” He sat next to Lute, visiting her after a little time apart. It seemed so far things were cool but he made it a focus to just talk about music, the piano, whatever the hell else that wasn’t them, too nervous to get into some kind of argument or whatever that would blow up his chance to see her like this.

The answer to his questions that night would never come as he continued to show up, sometimes planned, sometimes unannounced, but always welcomed in despite her better judgement and lament afterward. She didn't tell him why she cried every time he left, even after her initial wariness turned into tentative comfortability and then to anticipation for his presence. On occasion he was even lucky to get a laugh out of her, a rare smile or two in between moments of her hands lightly ghosting over his at her piano, like they were even afraid to get too close.

And then his time would be up: 'Goodbye,' 'Keep practicing,' and 'See you next time,' before a moment or two preceded her voice singing cries into his apartment and his mind harmonizing the same questions to it in a fucked-up duet of misery and confusion.

Confusion.

That's what came over her the minute her eyes left his and met the back of her door instead. It overwhelmed her, having been building every moment they shared until it finally overflowed when she was alone. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she needed. And it wasn't him. But then why did she miss him so terribly? Why did she want nothing more than to stop him from crossing that threshold? It had to be some sort of growing pain, some test of her will in not giving in to what was easy even if it was staggering. It would go away eventually, right? There was no use in telling him anything; it was her problem to deal with, and it would only get his hopes up unnecessarily. She wasn't going back. And that was that.

Another Time, Another place || accepting (specify muse/verse)

Send 🔪 to interact with a doomed/bad end version of the muse

What was she supposed to tell him? Was she supposed to act like the Lute he currently knew? He had no idea what was yet to come, what would be inevitable for her. There was no talking to him in order to stop it, there was no “change one small thing and avoid it altogether”, it was simply the way things were always going to be. So even if she told him everything and even if he swore he’d do a thousand things to change it, it wouldn’t do a damn thing to save her.

She would die.

And it would be his fault.

But at least she got to talk to him now, the way he was before that night. She could get another glimpse of her best friend when he still loved her. Before be looked at her like that. Before he kicked her out of their band. Before he told her she was meaningless and being used yet again.

This GG was still hers and she could stand to indulge in feeling it a little, right?

“Hey, Geeg.”

Hearing her own muffled voice as GG's demeanor slowly changed with each new answer was a trip. If his actions could have an effect on the past, she tried her best to remember this but came up empty, unsure if it was because the future was inevitable or because she really was such a hard sleeper. Regardless, she watched it play out as his fears were confirmed by the version of her safe in her bed, talking to her best friend without a care in the world, completely unaware this would be her last night to sleep so comfortably in her own sheets.

He looked at the version of her sitting across from him, repeating the phrase of affection as if he were pleading her future self to believe his sincerity and like he might not ever get another chance to say it. He wouldn't. Tonight was the only chance he had to convince her that he could never hate her to the degree she believed he did when she died.

The 'thud' his phone made when it hit the ground made her shake a little, watching him crawl to her until his hands made contact, desperate in feeling her solid form as further proof that she was there in front of him and capable of hearing his heartbroken apology. All she could do was sit there and take it all in...

her own voice coming from the phone

the slow horror accumulating on GG's face

the dropped phone

the feeling of his palms sliding up to her waist like he was holding something fragile the despair in his eyes as he looked up into hers and apologized for something he has yet to do but has no power to stop

When she could finally make herself move, another round of sobs hitting her as she looked into her best friend's hurt eyes, she reached out and circled him as best as she could from below her. There was only one thing in her mind. One thing she needed to know.

"Please... tell me I matter to you! Tell me I'm not worthless, that you're not just using me for my songs! Tell me you didn't mean it. I am worth something... something more than I can do for the band..."

Yet here she was, somehow, back here, crying and pleading for him to take back what he said, what he’d say tomorrow, the things that kick off the end of her life. Tears stream down his features, mouth agape, GG nearly forgot how to breathe as his mind scrambles. Even when she says those lines, asking and begging him to tell her different, his mind can only think of just how wrong those statements were. Each one. She was so much more than any of that, how could he swing so low on the woman who packed up everything just to come play in his stupid band?

She leaned on him in High school, both him and Atom, they saved her from people who would call her such awful things it wasn’t the other way around, it couldn’t be! But he did. Tomorrow he says such fowl things to her and all he has is tonight to make it up to her… maybe that’s why his hands gripped her tighter, or that a whine leaves his lips, or why his voice fails to speak at all, what could he say that action could not convey better?

Maybe that’s why his lips pressed against hers and he pulled her in desperately, clinging to her form, needing to pass anything stupid enough to tell her that she means so much more than she’s able to even believe in that genius level brain of hers because only a stupid man could kiss a dead woman and here he was, taking a leap of faith to perhaps steal all of those words she just used from her breath so that they never leave them again.

His hands flexed tightly around her, such a pained yowl coming from his lips that Lute might have mistaken it for a wounded animal had she not been directly in front of him to both hear and see him do it. Her chest was so tight with the desperation of hearing him deny what this future version of him said to her that she didn't even notice he was getting closer, bridging what little gap remained between them until his lips were on hers. Stupid, GG. Of course he would kiss her; he was never very good with words anyway.

Leaning into it, she let him capture her mouth and rid it of the horrible things he spoke into her mind, body, and soul that night. His lips moved slowly, poignantly making every second they were connected an open door to his heart and the truth that lived there. It began to warm her just a little, but it wasn't enough.

It wasn't until he pulled away and looked into her dull, brassy eyes, which were so uncharacteristically void of light, that she began to feel anything of value. His eyes, alive and bright with passion and sincerity in the way he looked at her, seemed to stare directly into her soul. He was, in a way, already looking at her soul, but the locked intensity in which green met those lifeless golds reached through the barriers of the physical realm so that when he spoke, it could lift the burden holding her down in this despair.

"Everything?"

Did he really mean that? Yes. She could feel it, his voice and reaction told her. She still didn't know why he would say that to her in the first place, but at least in this moment, she believed him.

Pulling back from the kiss, the sound of their lips breaking followed by a shared breath fills the rooms silence for just a moment before she speaks. And in turn, he tells her with certainty. “Everything.” It’s here that he could see so much more damage that’s been done to her. How pale her face was, how void of color her eyes were, streaks of makeup even a bit of dirt… she was a mess. He made her a mess.

That causes him to frown, his hand moves to her cheek to let his thumb trace almost every inch of it he could as if to carve this into his memory, almost scared that when tomorrow comes, he’ll forget all about this or be convinced it was a dream. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed this to stay in his head because tomorrow is when who she is now becomes reality and he… couldn’t have her leave him. Not like this.

The man soon stops, his free hand smoothing up her arm, careful of that needle mark that showed more than he’d like and he stops for a moment to tell her something, not a question or command, just a simple.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

… was it a memory or a premonition?

“I’ll make sure you look really nice for when your family comes to see you. You have the prettiest blonde hair, so you mind if I braid it?”

She pushed the voice away and nodded her head, her eyes dull and unfocused as she tried to pull herself away from the dissociation and let him lead her by the hand to his bathroom. She missed his fingers on her cheek, maybe he’ll do it again soon.

Standing to the side, she watched him gather some towels and clothes, nice comfy sweatpants and a cotton tee shirt that she longed to be in. She stared at the folded garments as the sound of the shower hit her ears. It was the perfect backdrop to her thoughts of the future. Who would be there? What would they say? Those words were the last she remembered. His hands on her again was the only thing that brought her attention back to the present.

He was so gentle, he always had been but it was highlighted now in the way he held her and unzipped her dress down her back and holding it open so she could step out of it. They didn’t need spoken communication for this, she used his shoulders to stabilize herself as she stepped over the fabric, limply letting him do the same to her thong and tights. Both were added to the dress onto his dresser to be dealt with later.

This wasn’t the first time she’d been naked around him, or been touched by him in this way, but it was the first time she was coherent for it. It was nice, looking at him take his own clothes off and feel the water’s warmth while holding onto her as if she’d either disappear or fall without his support.