#!angst

No one understood more about how love is responsible for pain than he did. He who felt he could go insane without you, that he could die without your touch or attention. He who knew he would kill without hesitation to protect you. Dex would do anything, would cross hell and heaven to reach you and would lie at the foot of your bed every night to keep you safe. Nothing and no one could stand between you; he was eternally yours, from blood to bones and tears, all of it belonged to you. He was yours, to do whatever you wished, as long as you allowed him to stay by your side, admiring you, taking care of you.

He wouldn't call himself possessive, or obsessive, or controlling – no, all of that was just love, and anyone who said otherwise understood nothing about the feeling. No one understood how you consumed him with every glance, word, and expression. You had settled deep within his soul, grown claws so strong they rooted into his skin and he would never rid himself of your scent. There was no return, there was no future, there would be nothing after you.

He was devoted to your well-being, a man so in love that was molded in your image.

But his love was like fire, it burned so fiercely that it spread quickly and was unstoppable, devouring everything in its path without even noticing. It consumed you so easily. Like a silent plague settling into your thoughts – until nothing but him remained there. It was sickening and dangerous. It was real. How many people can say they have tasted something so grand?

You would let him destroy you piece by piece, agonizing in his flames, feeling his warm touch leave marks so deep on your skin that you would never be able to erase them. You were his just as much as he was yours, infinitely.

You would watch him on his knees in front of you with his hands gripping your hips and tears falling from his eyes hundreds of times and would never grow tired. You would listen to his terrified murmurs, begging you not to abandon him, crying and promising to be better, as many times as necessary. You would smell the scent of bleach on his perfectly white clothes, and you would stroke the soft strands of his hair, whispering promises to him without hesitation. Because there is no love without pain, without punishment, without despair, without obsession, without devotion.

And of all Benjamin Poindexter’s flaws, lack of devotion was not one of them.

This side of paradise - Coyote Theory

0:35 ━❍──────── -5:32

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VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

Being the stubborn asshole you were, you wouldn’t take a no for an answer. That, and the fact your comrades were being even more stubborn than you, wanting to get Ivan’s body back as you were all retreating from the horribly failed mission, did not help at all…

So now, you found yourself riding August, your horse, fleeing from the fast approaching Titans, hot behind your trail, all thanks to your fellows, who had gotten Ivan’s body back,not thinking of the consequences it would bring.

The two guys went forward to attack the Titans, albeit the fact you found yourselves in a plain biome, no trees or building around, using the maneuver gear was challenging, and, as Captain Levi had said, the smartest thing to do was to simply flee and dodge the forthcoming beasts.

It didn’t go as expected though, after all, the chances of maneuvering swiftly in the meadow were low if not zero, resulting in a Titan getting hold of the scout, mercilessly trapping him between his gross digits.

The other guy did his best efforts in saving his friend, not wanting to lose another one in a single mission, yet it didn’t go as planned, his last memories of him being his blood splattering around, dirtying the Titan’s body and filling the momentarily air with the oh so familiar smell of death.

Now, without Ivan’s body, who had fallen off the horse in the attempt to escape, and his buddy dead, the poor guy found himself galloping as fast as his steed could go, desperately running for survival.

In the midst of all the chaos caused in a matter of seconds, Captain Levi ordered that, in order to move the carts faster and successfully get to the safety inside the walls with no more casualties, they had to get rid of the dead soldiers’ bodies.

They had to leave them behind.

But your recklessness wasn’t going to lay still, and, after hearing those words come out of humanity’s strongest soldier’s mouth, you stopped dead on your tracks, causing you to almost lose balance and fall off your horse, and, whipping your head around quick enough to give anyone whiplash, you spotted Petra’s resting body on the cart, about to be thrown out as if meant nothing.

“NO !”

You yelled, watching your dead friend’s body getting farther and farther away by the second, hot tears streaming down your burning cheeks, the mundane feeling of despair piercing your insides once again.

Between gritted teeth, you murmured to yourself the promise you had made before the mission. “I’m not abandoning you, you’ll get to rest properly, even if it costs my life.”

Without thinking twice, or even giving yourself time to do so, you jumped off your horse, weakly grappling your ODM gear to the Titan’s running body, and, in a brisk motion, you reached out for your friend, hugging her body tightly, your judgment clouded by emotions, decisions driven by your heart.

The Titan before your eyes was now reaching out to you, yourself trying to dodge it hastily.

And of course, this wouldn’t, and in fact, it didn’t go unnoticed by your Captain who, while steadily riding the horse, made use of his peripheral view, checking on your dumb self, making sure you weren’t the next dead person.

Hurried but carefully, you managed to let Petra down on the cart once more, giving a death glare to your fellows, warning them with your piercing gaze to not even think about dispatching her as if she was no one.

In spite of your efforts, the wire of your gear got caught in the Titan’s hand, throwing you harshly off, leaving you with no escape from the Titan’s grasp.

“Well fuck” You scoffed, just processing the fact those were going to be your last moments.

Throwing a quick glance at Petra’s peaceful body on the cart, your vision got blurry, tears pooling your eyes once again.

This is it.

You smiled, whispering your last words with a bittersweet taste in your mouth. “Until we meet again.”

In your mind, you were cursing at yourself for giving up so easily, although, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you had been wanting to give up for a long time now, after realizing you had been fighting a lost cause, and, humanity could do nothing about their imminent fate, being erased off the earth by their enemy. After all, the strongest one wins, right ? And this was your escape, your excuse, your opportunity, your way out of the hell everyone called home.

Subconsciously, you had stopped running, unaffectedly kneeling down in your place, hoping, no, waiting for the worst. Only a single thought, a single person kept lingering in your mind : Petra.

She was the first person you had actually felt close to since you accidentally joined the Survey Corps Elite Squad. Petra was loving, selfless, and could always draw a smile on your face, even on the darkest of days; despite being trapped in in this hell hole, the ginger never lost hope, keeping on fighting bravely against Titans every day, being the ray of sunshine in the midst of all the gloomy clouds, shining brighter than any cloud could ever cry, and, even in her final moments, she never lost hope humanity would someday claim freedom.

Ultimately, unlike the fallen soldiers, you weren’t great, not even good at anything, let alone at going outside the walls and killing titans, sending yourself forward into enemy line. You weren’t extraordinary, you weren’t special, or smart, or quick witted, or strong, or at least that’s what you thought, you were just there, there by mere luck, it definitely wouldn't be a hard lose for the Survey Corps, according to your undervaluing thoughts, they wouldn’t even feel the weight of your death, let alone humanity, you would pass and, like many others, you would eventually be forgotten, the only memory left of you being ‘another victims of the monsters trapping us inside these walls’.

Yet, you felt the slightest ounce of regret about one thing, and one thing only : your friends.

Eren, Sasha, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Krista, and once Annie, before she left for the Military Police; you would never get a chance to say goodbye to them, to thank them for spending 3 years of their lives training for a death sentence together, for defending and protecting you, for making you laugh, for showing you what real love was.

As the thoughts left your mind blank and tears rolled out your reddened eyes, time seemed to have stopped, each fraction of a second feeling like forever while you waited for death to come reclaim your meaningless life.

Levi, who was been fixated on the road ahead, forgot about you and your stupid, death-wish-antics.

The thing, or rather, the person who broke him out of his everlasting trance, was Sasha, Sasha Braus letting out a deafening scream, crying out for you.

“___ !”

He heard, muffled to his ears.

Snapping out, he promptly turned his head around, getting a hold of his blades, ignoring the excruciating pain extending through his leg, ready to kill the Titan before it could kill you.

“___ !” He caught once more, Sasha’s cries for your life breaking in her throat, tears escaping her eyes, a feeling of helplessness invading her as she watched the scene unfold before her very eyes.

It was too late.

He was too late.

Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier, couldn't save you.

Humanity's strongest soldier couldn't save a stubborn brat like you from the jaws of a mindless 7-metre-class Titan.

Knowing what was best for him and the Corps, he kept heading straight, aware he couldn’t do anything, anything but galloping away from the Titan and get into the safety the walls provided, the burning memory of you blood splattering all around, your lifeless body being crushed by a stupid 7 metre Titan engraving on his mind, ready to become to reason of more sleepless nights, nights when his regrets would have to be buried deep beneath him.

What had felt like an eternity, was in fact, matter of seconds, the rest seemingly oblivious, since they were too busy saving their own lives to look back at the cries of their comrades, too busy to notice the Titan had stopped chasing after them, too busy to realise the steed galloping riderless alongside them, too busy to realise that a singular body was back in the cart, in exchange of another life.

With no more casualties, they arrived ostensibly safely at the gate, the familiar bell ringing in their ears, filling the air, announcing their arrival after a heart-tearing expedition.

.

Your last moments weren’t as everyone described they would be.

You didn’t see your life flash before your eyes, you didn’t feel at peace, you didn’t see a blinding white light, you didn’t feel regret.

In fact, you felt nothing, nothing until you thought it was over, afore, in your last breath of life, you saw Levi’s eyes losing their oh so subtle gleam you loved, you saw Sasha breaking down, barely able to hold herself steady on the horse, you saw Jean, and how with glossy eyes, he cursed at himself, feeling guilty for not having done anything to save you.

In that moment, in that last moment, with your blood escaping your body faster than your heart could ever beat, you felt happy. Brushing death’s grasp, powerless, incapable to escape, you felt satisfied, you felt free, maybe there would be another life, a life you could actually live, a life without the terror of being ruled by them, a life where you could be free.

With your mind slowly turning off, you were sure your last thought, your last memory, your last experience was going to be a delightful one, a memory you would cherish in the so called afterlife; despite your friends, who couldn’t contain their tears, messily holding onto their horse’s leash, body numbed by pure shock, whos heart had been crudely torn apart, your reaction to that moment was quite the opposite. With a faint smile drawn on your now pale lips, you held onto that precise moment blissfully for the remaining seconds of consciousness you had left, because that moment, that instant, had shown you everything you ever wished for.

For the first and last time, you experienced love.

Dex knew you were complicated. It was obvious, actually. He stalked you for long enough to notice that you had many problems. Wasn’t used to follow routines, didn’t had a lot of friends – in fact, almost no friends at all, rarely got out of your apartment to have fun, wasn’t active on social media, spent most of the week stuck at your job. From his perspective, you were very unhappy. He saw a bit of himself in you. He was unsatisfied with his life, but unlike you, he was stable, had a good routine, which he followed with dedication.

  Part of his routine were watch your routine, he found himself enjoying seeing the way you deal with your life, almost as if he was there with you the whole time. Of course, he still had obligations – like his job – so he did his best to keep an eye on you even far away. He hacked into your building’s security cameras, carefully memorized your arrival and departure times, and even managed to access your computer’s camera through your Wi-Fi network. Dex was smart – but most importantly, he was determined, when he wrapped his head around something, it was a difficult job for him to let it go.

  He remembered the first time he saw you as if it was yesterday. It was around eight in the morning of a Wednesday. He was taking the trash outside when you passed through him, you were talking with someone on your phone, you were wearing black pants with a black turtleneck shirt and a black long coat, your hair was loose and it looked so soft and shiny but also naturally messy. Your shoulder bumped into his and your bag felt on his feet, you immediately knelled and looked at his face apologizing. He could swear that never saw another pair of eyes so beautiful. He stayed speechless as you got up, still looking at him.

– I’m so sorry, my mind was in the clouds. – You said, tuckering a strand of hair behind your ear.

– It was nothing. – He said quickly, not even flashing a smile. He could hear the voice on the phone still talking, calling your name until you put the phone at your ear.

– I’m here. No. I wasn’t talking to you, I bumped into a guy.  – You nodded at him and turned, already walking away.

  It was something. It was. Your face was now engraved into his mind and he couldn’t help but wonder, “who are you and where you have been hiding?”.

  After that day, Dex did everything he could to see you again. He started taking the trash every day in the same hour, looked everywhere on internet after you – as he gladly had heard your first name, he knew you could be found. It took him almost two weeks but he did found your Facebook. You had a business number there. Apparently, you worked as a teacher’s assistant for the psychology department at the Pace university, it suited you. He scrolled through every photo of you he could find, checking friends’ profiles and all of your followers.

He wouldn’t say he was obsessed; he was only fascinated by you. Checking you online was great, but Dex knew he needed more, he needed to see you again and hear your sweet voice. So he managed to find your address, it wasn’t hard for him as he had the resources. When he discovered that you lived about six miles away from him, he could not believe it. How did you managed to live so close and yet never get noticed by him?

  The follow months he spent studying you. With what frequency you had guests, how many times you took the trash outside, which supermarket you liked to go – he learned it all. His favorites moments was when you kept the curtains’ open and cooked dinner, you always had a lot of fun alone, dancing, listening to music, trying new recipes, drinking. He had learned that you weren’t much of a drinker but loved wine, was basically the only type of alcohol that you were used to drink – and he knew because he had seem your trash can. He liked to stay in his car, parked at the other side of your street, and watching you sit at your fire escape; you did that at least once per month, like it was your only day to watch the stars and think about everything. He liked to imagine himself right by your side, in silence, watching you while you watch the sky. He could feel that you felt lonely sometimes – mostly because he could see you burying your head in your hands and shivering. He thought about calling you and inviting you to a date, but he knew it was stupid, it could never work, and you weren’t the type of girl who goes out with strangers just to not feel empty. You were too special for that.

  Dex could say that he loved almost everything about you – except when you acted out of control. He needed control to live, he was controlled by specific rituals and needed to follow his routine to keep him stable, to keep him working. You didn’t, in fact, it was like you hated to do the same things every day, you were always trying to find new paths to go to work, new ways of putting your furniture, new ways of styling your hair. You were constantly changing. That wasn’t normal to Dex. He understood that people could get bored after some time following routines but dedication was an important aspect in life, the key was consistency. It lacked in you. From away, it was interesting, but it needed to change when he started to get closer to you.

  You were looking stunning, really had taken your time to doll up tonight, and of course, he noticed. Dex managed to follow you after you left with a friend. He knew where you were going, thanks to your friend who posted about some karaoke night at her favorite bar. It was the first time in three months that you were getting out of your house to have fun, he couldn’t miss it. He also took some time getting ready, he didn’t pretend to be noticed but if you accidentally laid your eyes on him, he wanted to make sure that you would like what you’ve saw.

  He sat at the bar, held his drink and stayed there, sipping slowly, pretending to have a reason to be there. You were laughing with your friend, Dex was glad he could hear you, finally had something to think about besides your face, he could hear you telling about your week and he smiled before even noticing. He knew you were not usually so talkative, he could only presume that you drank a bit before coming. That’s also something he noticed about you – every time you had a big day ahead, you would drink something to loosen up a bit, it wasn’t a health habit, he knew he had to help you change it. He planned how the topic would be discussed, how his tone would sound like and what words he should use. He had a lot of planned conversations. After all, he knew that talking wasn’t his best asset, so he should be prepared before actually speaking with you.

  He smelled your perfume before actually feeling you at his side, your hands gripped the counter and he discretely analyzed your nails – he knew that you had done them last night. They looked pretty, very you, he though. Besides being particularly reserved, you weren’t afraid of being yourself, and Dex loved that about you, he thought it was nice that you knew exactly who you were and didn’t needed masks to perform at the world. That was something that you would help him with – he though. You ordered a drink, letting a low chuckle escape your lips as the bartender tried to do a small talk with you. Dex clenched his jaw, rage slowly building up him. You couldn’t be smiling at that guy, could you? He wasn’t even your type, he was sure because he saw your posts about ex-boyfriends and the photos of celebrities you liked. You had a specific type. Dex didn’t really fitted it but that wasn’t a problem for now, he would make sure to conquer your heart with other matters.

  You let out a sigh as the guy walked away to prepare your drink – Dex smiled because now he understood, you were just being polite. The air was hot in the bar, the small windows opened and the ceiling fan barely doing anything. Dex wetted his lips and casually glanced at your direction, just to see you already looking at him, your lips slightly open. God, you looked perfect. Your cheeks were lightly red and your eyes were glossy but also kind of fuzzy. For a moment, Dex imagined what you would look like waking up next to him, how you would smile only for his eyes to see and how he would let your hands caress his hair while his fingers travel across your face. You looked away with a shy smile. He smiled too, mesmerized by you. He was surprised when he heard you, now looking at him again.

– I feel like I know you. – He raised a brow.

– Really? Because, I feel like I know you from somewhere too.

– That’s weird, my memory is pretty good, I never forget a face… but I can’t quite figure where I’ve seen you before. – You said, tilting your head slightly.

– Maybe we met here before?

– Oh, no. It’s my first time here, actually.

– It’s a nice place. Are you enjoying it? – He asked, now fully directed towards you.

– Yeah, it’s cozy I guess. – She looked back at her table – I’m with some friends. You come here often?

  He didn’t know if she was just being polite or was really interested in keep a conversation, anyway he was glad she was giving him some of her time. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to meet her but it wasn’t unpleasable.

– Sometimes, yeah. – She nodded with another smile.

– Nice to meet you…?

– You can call me Dex. – He smiled.

  You were easy to talk to. Not always available. Which was weird, Dex knew it wasn’t because of your work, and definitely not because you weren’t home, so what could be the explanation of you taking ages to answer his texts and never accepting to go out with him? He didn’t liked the way you were making him feel. Rejected. Too clingy. Too anxious. Too much. He wanted to knock on your door and ask why you were acting like this when four weeks ago you had the nicest conversation with him and treated Dex so kindly. What had changed? Were you bored of him, as you got so easily bored of your furniture? Did he do something that bothered you?

  He had gotten used of you already, used of you being the last person he talked at night and the first at morning, used to laughing at your awful jokes and weird text reactions, used to talking about work and hearing about your day or plans for the weekend. You couldn’t just vanish for days without an explanation, it was rude – and you were anything but rude with him. He would be worried if it wasn’t for the fact that he could see you, totally fine in your kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. Your phone was close to you, he thought of sending another text but it could be too much, could scare you away – even more than now. He hated how easily you could spend your day without talking to him and he couldn’t keep away from your house for a single day. He were too much, too intense, too weird, too different. He knew. Yet, when you two talked, he didn’t felt like it, he even thought that you were just like him, that you could understand him. Was he wrong all along?

  You disappeared from the kitchen. He sighed, heavily, tired. Then his phone buzzed. It was you.

“Hey, sorry, forgot to text u back :(

I’m okay, just a bit tired lately, u okay?”

  He read it two, four, seven times. How could you sound so casual about disappearing for two days? What did you meant with tired? His thumb hovering over the keys confused of what to say.

“Hey. It’s all right, glad you’re okay. I’m fine.”

  He sent. He felt stupid.

“that’s good!! About going out Friday, u still up?”

“Yes. What time you get off work?”

“around nine. I will be super tired tho, it’s okay if we eat at my place?”

  Dex was stunned. He could barely remember why he was mad at you now that you were inviting him to your house. He smiled typing.

“Sounds great. See you nine o’clock then.”

";)"

  He dropped his phone in the seat.

Friday. The weather was cold, colder than it was the rest of the week. Dex was waiting outside the university, wearing a white shirt with black jeans and a black suit – same thing he wore at work, as he didn’t had time to go home and change. It was exactly nine o’clock and you still hadn’t showed up, he was starting to get anxious. Dex checked his phone and your text, confirming that you set the date for today. Now he wondered if he was at the right place, or if maybe this was a prank or maybe you got out earlier and couldn’t wait for him. He was exaggerating, for sure, but he couldn’t help it. He looked around and saw you waving at him, stepping out of the building. He could finally breathe again. You looked cute as you walked to him, not really knowing where to look at, with a small smile on your lips.

– Hi. – He smiled. – I hope you didn’t wait too much here, my boss was trying to make me work harder tonight.

– I just got here. – He said. – So, you ready to go?

– Sure.

  The way back to your house were quiet, but comfortable, you liked Dex company. He was handsome, smart, and weirdly funny – the type of guy that make you laugh just by being himself. It was sweet but fragile, this thing you two had. He wasn’t actively trying to get on your pants, which you were grateful for, but also had no idea of what he expected from you. You could see things getting more serious in the future, but right now, Dex wasn’t what you were looking for. A relationship. You barely took care of yourself, how could you be involved with someone who would put so many responsibilities on your back? You didn’t want to assume anything but it was obvious that Dex wasn’t the type of guy that sleeps around or do one-night stands. You knew by the way he was reserved, or by the way he looked at you – as you were so precious to him. For the months you’ve been talking to him, you didn’t knew a lot about his life, he mostly appreciated to hear you talking about yourself, so his life wasn’t in the spotlight most of the nights. It didn’t bother you, not really, if anything just made you more interested in him and his mysterious personality.

  You closed the door after he got in. He stayed with his hand on his pockets and still as possible in the middle of your living room. Your flat wasn’t really small but also far from being big, you felt nervous as you watched him looking around. Bringing guys over wasn’t something you used to do, somehow, you felt that it was okay with Dex, he was trustable. You felt safe with him; even though you knew he worked on the FBI – maybe that was the reason of you feeling safe around him. He looked at you and gave you a small smile.

– You can sit. – You said, pointing to your couch. – I’m going to put my bag in my bed and I will be right back so we can order something. Make yourself home.

  Dex sat, still looking tense, it was his default configuration, he could help it. He was always in alert, as every soldier is. He touched the armrest of the sofa, feeling it, he didn’t liked the texture. He quickly looked around making sure he wouldn’t forget any spot of your place. It was cozy, not fancy but not messy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. This – the sofa, the white walls, no pictures hanged, the smell of chlorine – it didn’t felt like you. He thought your house would have more personality, that it would have a bunch of pictures of your childhood in wood frames, posters of movies you watched and it would smell like your perfume. This place looked hollow. His eyes stopped at a small bottle on the coffee table, his hands travelled to it before he could resist, picking it up and reading the label. Zoloft. He straightened his posture when he heard your steeps.

– So, do you have anything specific in mind? I’m down to anything, really. – You sat next to him, but left a lot of space between your bodies.

  Dex had an expression of discomfort, his lips pressed together and his eyebrows furrowed.

– Are you okay? – He asked, his eyes analyzing your expression. You were confused.

– Uhm, yes? Why do you ask?

– You never told me you took medications.

– What? – Your eyes flew to the bottle at your table, a nervous smile creeping onto your lips. – Are you talking about that? – He nodded, slowly.

– It’s nothing, seriously. It just helps me with bad days and anxiety, that kind of stuff.

– Is that why you stopped answering my messages? – he knew that asking so many questions like this was a mistake, he would scare you away, as he always do. However, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he realized as the words came out of his mouth. – Are you depressed?

  You laughed, loudly, probably the first time he heard you laughing like that. He felt embarrassed. He wished he could stop you from laughing at him, that he could get up and left, forget all about this night – maybe even forget about you.

– Dex, what? Look at me, I’m fine! You don’t need to worry about me, ‘right? – You laid you head in the couch, Dex stared at you imagining what would happen if chocked you. Would you fight back or you would accept it as your fate? Did you wanted to die?

– I’m truly sorry about not texting you. – You turned your head to look at him.

  Dex was beautiful. Maybe you just were falling for him – or maybe, he just had the prettiest eyes you ever saw, the way the lighting was molding his features and the way you could see glimpses of you in the reflection of his eyes were intoxicating. He had a cold look. Distant. Yet, you never felt so seen before. You felt your heartbeat accelerating; it was getting harder to breathe.

– You’re right. I… think I was scared of telling you some things and making you go away. It’s silly. – You chuckled, partially ashamed of your behavior. – I mean, it’s just, no one likes to go out and tell the world that they are sick, you know?

– Sick? – He was lost in thoughts but that word made him get pushed back to reality. You nodded.

– I take those pills since I was, like, fourteen. I’ve been sick for a long time and will probably be until the day I die. – You sighed, explaining your condition.

  That was familiar to Dex, taking pills since he was a child, multiples sessions with his therapist, bad days, nights awake, the fear of making people disappear from his life, the violent thoughts, and the difficulty in connecting with people. Everything that you said was exactly what he felt his whole life. He couldn’t believe it. What were the odds of meeting someone like you? So perfect yet so similar to him. In that moment, Dex felt like you were everything he spent his life looking for. It was you. His salvation, his north star.

– You could never scare me away. – Dex said in a low tone, it sounded as a confession, a secret. He could see your gaze flickering between his eyes and lips, as if you were deciding something. Maybe deciding if he was being honest or not.

  You leaned in, drawn by something magnetic, your gaze fixed on his lips until he couldn’t resist anymore. He attacked your lips with impressive speed, his tongue immediately exploring the inside of your mouth, kissing like a rabid animal. And you loved it, trying to keep up with his pace as best you could, your hands traveling to his blond hair and you gripped the soft strands. Dex tasted of coffee, mint, and a hint of cinnamon. When you pulled away to breathe, you soon felt his hand on the nape of your neck pulling you close again, his eyes seemed dark with desire, he was fierce. You felt your whole body shiver, unsure what to think at the moment because everything kept returning to him – Dex, Dex, and Dex, he was flooding your thoughts, his scent intoxicated you, his cologne was strong but not unpleasant, like the smell of gasoline or paint.

  You wanted more of him; you wanted to feel him everywhere. You brought your fingers to his face and traced his lips with them, watching his heavy, ragged breathing. He opened his mouth slightly, giving you passage. You didn't put your finger inside his mouth, only felt the wet texture of saliva on his lips. You were driving him crazy. He wanted to kiss, touch, and lick every tiny part of  your body. He let his hands travel through your hair, brushing a few strands from your flushed face. The apartment was warm – perhaps because he could feel the heat of your body against his.

  Desire. It was a strange feeling, not entirely new to either of them, but never as intense as that night. Dex had never been so focused – on you. Completely devoted and obsessed with your touch. It was almost painful. He felt his body burning. All he could see and feel was you, your scent, your parted lips, your hand on his face, and your beautiful eyes staring at him as if you belonged to him. And you did. From the Wednesday your eyes met, you had become his; no one could ever touch you like that. And he was yours just as you were his.

  You couldn't focus on anything; your mind was in a trance, completely fascinated by the man in front of you, but also so carried away by the sensations that nothing made sense besides his touch. His hands were large, strong, and firm, holding you in place as if you were just a sack of meat. You even thought you would do anything he asked or wanted, just to keep his attention on you. It was insanity. Nothing had ever seemed as real as this moment. You became more confident and daring when you heard the low moan of pleasure that Dex let out when his hand went down to his cock. It was a delicious sound, better than you had imagined, and god, of course you had imagined it.

  Dex, too, despite always forbidding himself, striving to keep his mind clean of any impure thoughts, afraid that somehow imagining you in a vulgar way would also make you dirty. But he desired it as much as you did, mirroring your smile and your voice messages while his hand caressed his member under the shower and his head rested against the wet wall, feeling the water wash away his pleasure along with his sweat down the drain. In any case, nothing compared to this; truly feeling your soft hand gently rubbing him, teasing him, driving him to the brink of madness. He didn't know he could lose control like this, it was something new and frightening. But it felt so good. And if it's good, it can't be wrong, right?

  He kissed you again, without holding back. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and looking at him, almost as if begging to see him, and he would never refuse. He easily pulled off his shirt and returned to the kiss, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. You pulled away for a moment and took off your own shirt. Dex's eyes traveled over your breasts, and you looked a mess, flushed cheeks, tousled hair, his bulging chest visible; he was gorgeous. He moved his mouth to your neck, holding your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other, his tongue slowly tracing your neck, kissing, sucking, and licking. It was as if he wanted to devour you. Your body was on fire, and the breeze coming through the open window relieved you. You felt your core dripping and wetting your panties, slightly embarrassed for being so eager after just a few kisses, but the relief of feeling Dex's already hard cock calmed you; he was as desperate for it as you were. Holding onto his shoulder, you shifted, allowing him to position one of his knees between your legs. The friction of his jeans against your panties was exhilarating; it made you feel so good that you barely noticed when you started rubbing against his leg. Dex found the action adorable; he liked knowing you felt comfortable enough to use him however you wanted, and he wanted to be the one who satisfied you.

  His hands went to the clasp of your bra and with mastery, he opened it, throwing the garment to the floor. You smiled as you felt his hands on your breasts, touching them carefully. He was intense but also careful. His mouth went to your ear and he whispered; “You are divine” and you felt your body tremble at the tone in his voice, you let out a low moan as you felt you were getting close to climaxing. To your misfortune, Dex pulled away, removing your source of pleasure. You stared at him, confused and still slightly drunk from the sensation. He laid you down on the sofa and unzipped your pants, pulling them down to your ankles. He admired the sight of your thin panties for a second and brought two fingers to your lips, you let them in, smearing them with saliva, still looking into Dex's eyes. He smiled slightly and removed his fingers, taking them to your pussy, playing with your clitoris in circles. You gasped, feeling a new wave of pleasure, more intense. He penetrated your hole with his fingers, maintaining a slow and torturous rhythm, purposefully making you savor the little he gave you. His face moved back a few centimeters from yours, and you lifted yourself slightly, seeking his mouth. The kiss was slower, full of sighs, his gaze fixed on you. You came with his fingers still on you and your mouths pressed together.

Yeon Si-eun:

A girlfriend that's struggling with school.

For Si Eun, school is a very important part of life, mainly because he wants a calm, stable and successful future, not to mention that he loves having knowledge. So obviously that didn’t change when the two of you started dating. He was immediately attracted to your intelligence and determination, and being a very attentive and observant partner, of course he noticed when your grades started to drop and you became more distracted in class.

He didn’t know why and preferred not to ask since you didn’t take the initiative to talk about it; so he just respected your will and assumed it was a bad phase and that soon you would go back to your usual behavior.

But that took a long time to happen, and when you finally went back to studying for tests, Si Eun noticed that you were getting more and more irritated and frustrated with the results. He knew what it felt like to be frustrated with a grade after some time dedicated to the effort of learning, so naturally he did what he could and in the way he could to help you. Direct and with no room for excuses, he started inviting you to study sessions three times a week. Sometimes the meetings on weekends were followed by long walks in the park with an ice cream cone in hand. At first it was difficult for him to include you in his heavy study routine without frustration taking over both of you, but always patient with you, things worked out over time. And you could swear you had never seen him so proud of you as the first time you got a perfect score on your first test.

Ahn Su-ho:

A girlfriend that's struggling with an eating disorder.

He could swear you were avoiding him. More than three weeks in a row in which you rejected his invitations to go out, even though you saw each other every day at school, he didn’t think it was enough, Su Ho wanted to breathe the same air as you all the time, no one imagined he would be such a clingy boyfriend. So he started observing the changes in your behavior and in your body; you were always tired, complained daily about your nails breaking, you didn’t let him touch your hair out of fear that your strands would fall even more, you skipped breaks and while everyone ate you just talked, drank water all the time and were getting more and more moody.

Su Ho thought something might be happening at home but you would have told him, and then, after a small conversation with Si Eun and a long afternoon of research on Google, he found out what was going on. At first he didn’t understand, he genuinely didn’t understand why you would be torturing yourself like that over a few numbers on the scale, but he tried to understand — because it was about you, so it was important — but it was difficult and frustrating for him, especially when he realized you couldn’t see that you were already perfect.

He tried to avoid being too direct when touching on the subject but you made everything harder by trying to minimize the situation. Su Ho didn’t leave room for a discussion to happen, either you would resolve this situation with him or he would insist until you got tired.

After you had a long and exhausting conversation, full of “What? Why would you do that?” and a lot of crying followed by tight hugs, you let him into your mind and understand your situation, explaining your story and reasons. He listened patiently and with the most focused expression you had ever seen on him. However, he insisted that if you really wanted to lose weight, he would help you do it the right way… which includes not rejecting his invitations, since moments like that are much more memorable than the moments you would spend in front of the mirror hating yourself. Even so, Su Ho could never understand how you didn’t see yourself the way he saw you.

Oh Beom-seok:

A girlfriend that's struggling with self harm.

The situation wasn’t a secret between you two, it was basically one of the things that brought you closer and made him not feel so alone knowing that you understood him and didn’t think he was crazy.

Although the reasons varied, many times you knew he hurt himself to feel a bit of control over his own body and pain, just like you when your thoughts got too loud and you felt like your heart was bleeding.

However, together (and with a lot of therapy) you overcame it and were doing very well, or at least that’s what he thought. It had been months since he had intentionally hurt himself, but even so he knew the signs, being realistic, it was hard to recognize the signs in you because you managed to hide your sadness from him since you didn’t want to make him worried. However, it was already summer and Beomseok noticed that you kept wearing long-sleeved shirts to school, even when you complained about the incessant heat of the season, that’s how he noticed something was wrong.

He didn’t want to be inconvenient and ask right away “Are you doing that again?” but at the same time he felt terrible and guilty because you didn’t trust him enough to open up. He felt your pain, and on top of everything, he felt insufficient for not being able to heal you like you did with him. It was a silly and even selfish thought, and he knew that, but he couldn’t confront his own feelings.

When he confronted you about the scar, it was a conversation full of tension and regret from both sides. You didn’t want to burden him and he didn’t want to make you feel judged. However, you could feel the sincerity in his voice, how hurt he was for not being able to help you with your pain and how worried he was. Beomseok would go crazy if he lost you, the mere thought made him feel sick. You, of all people, the only good thing that had happened to him for many years, the person who showed him that love could be true, real and beautiful.

He spent many nights researching techniques to help you forget about the cuts, listened carefully when you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders and even gently and devotedly kissed every scar on your body with nothing but affection. You, who sometimes felt repulsive because of your scars, by his side only felt love. Pure, complicated and mutual.

Park Hu-Min (Baku):

A girlfriend that's struggling with bad parents.

The boy knew you like the back of his hand, maybe even better than yourself, and when your mood was bad, he was the first to do everything to see you smile again. It wasn’t a secret that your relationship with your mother wasn’t the best, Baku had already heard you complain about her about five hundred times and in all of them he supported you and in his rushed way, made you forget the fights and harsh words.

But this time it was different because he didn’t hear you tell the story, he saw it with his own eyes. He went to your house to pick you up for a date, and as soon as he got to the gate he heard your mother’s shouting, clearly agitated and taking it out on you, who was shouting with the same intensity. He almost hesitated to ring the bell, but did it anyway and was greeted with your face at the window saying you were already coming down. He waited with an awkward smile for the argument to end.

Before you closed the gate and greeted him, your mother shouted again “You look ridiculous in that outfit. This boy should be ashamed to walk with someone like you!” and at that moment the smile disappeared from his lips. You made a point of ignoring the subject the whole day, changing topics or simply pretending you didn’t know what he was talking about, that’s how he knew you were really hurt.

As soon as he got home, Baku texted you, making it clear that your mother had never been more wrong and that in fact he couldn’t be more proud to be by your side.

Baku knew firsthand what it was like to be seen as a disgrace, a nobody with no future by your own family. He knew how the harsh words of a father or mother hurt much more than any punch because they touch a very intimate part of our soul. And just thinking that your mother treated you that way made the boy furious and frustrated with the situation because he knew he couldn’t do anything but emphasize his love for you. No matter what your mother said, she didn’t appreciate you (and even if he didn’t understand why), he knew he would love you enough for both of them.

Go Hyun-tak (Gotak):

A girlfriend struggling with low self esteem.

You went to all of his games, always there in the stands, cheering and watching him dedicate his victories to you. And you loved being there for him, but being with someone so popular had its complications and many of them came directly from your own mind. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he had fans, but seeing them at every game with their short dresses, perfect faces and enviable bodies had become a constant problem. You couldn’t help comparing yourself and eventually questioning: why did he choose me among all of them?

The thing is that this question never even crossed his mind. Gotak had been charmed by you since the first time he heard your voice. The boy was simply crazy about everything about you and everyone could see that. Except you.

When you finally decided to tell him what was going through your mind, Gotak got genuinely angry. First because he couldn’t believe that you really doubted yourself and what he felt for you, and second because you insisted on treating the subject like a joke even though it hurt you. Accidentally he was harsher than he would have liked, but his intentions were pure.

He felt bad for even allowing you to create doubts about the size of his love for you. After your conversation, he started complimenting you ten times more than usual, but not just common and ordinary compliments, they were deep compliments that had been thought of with great care like “I love how your whole body relaxes when you eat chocolate”.

He always posts pictures of you with the cutest songs he knows, doesn’t hesitate to show the world that he loves you and that he has no eyes for anyone else.

Na Baekjin:

A girlfriend that's struggling with problems at home.

He is naturally very protective of you, and although he doesn’t show it much with words, Baekjin is always attentive to your routine, mood, well-being and health. The main way he finds to take care of you is by being your safe place; no matter how the world is, around him you will always be safe and comfortable.

As usual, you spent the rest of the afternoon together, but your energy was practically drained after being forced to wake up early to take care of the house, review your studies and still cook for your grandmother, you were irritated after not being able to sleep properly at night, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Baekjin. He didn’t ask questions immediately, but made sure to see you eating and put you in a taxi, telling you to go rest at home.

However, after finally receiving an explanation for why you were so tired, he understood the situation immediately and made a point of picking you up again and taking you to his apartment.

As soon as you arrived, he sent you to the shower while he prepared a hot drink for both of you, fixed the bed the way he knew you liked it and waited for your bath to end to lie down with you. As you two laid down together, he let you choose a silly movie to watch until you fell asleep, surrounded by his arms and his calm breathing. You didn’t take long to, and while you slept, Baekjin watched you with impressive fascination. He, for a moment, considered asking you not to leave anymore, to stay there with him, in the small and comfortable world you two had created. However, regardless of your answer, he knew he would protect and take care of you at any cost.

Geum Seong-je:

A girlfriend struggling with mental health.

Dating Seong-je is not an easy task, the boy is disturbing, slightly insane, violent and lonely… and still, charming and a reflection of yourself. When you realized you were in love, it was complicated, you could barely deal with your own company, let alone his. But the thing was that he had also fallen in love, deeply and in a way he never had before, which only meant one thing: he wasn’t willing to give up on you.

Your crisis moments happened unexpectedly, simple things made you react in an exaggerated way, you freaked out and ended up being mean to everyone around you, especially him, who refused to leave you alone. And then came the phases where you said things you didn’t mean, where anger took over your body and all you wanted was to smash his face. And then came the guilt, flooded with sadness and regret. But in all phases, he was by your side. Taking every insult, apology and slap as if they were the most natural thing in the world for him.

He didn’t mind being your temporary punching bag, he also did his best not to take your harsh words personally, it was surprising to everyone, but he had always been very patient with you. After all, he understood what it was like to feel out of control, losing your mind and acting like a madman, many times he was taken by anger and indifference where he put himself at risk without thinking about the consequences — and you supported him when he needed it, that was enough for him to promise not to let go of your hand in moments when everything seemed impossible.

Sometimes you felt like you were too much of a burden for him to carry, on nights where you crossed the line and then broke down sitting on the floor in tears, too ashamed to look at him and maybe see something other than love in his eyes — but that never happened, every time, he sat beside you and held your head, bringing you to his chest and stroking your hair with nothing but care.

To the outside world, Seong-je could be a crazy, cold and violent guy but to you he was never anything but kind; and the love of your life.

Chimney Rock is the type of place that lives on the past and always will, doesn’t matter how many years you stay away from it, when the time of returning home comes – you will go back and see that everything remained the same. In a certain way, it was beautiful, but also tragic, as we know that something that doesn’t change is forgotten, eventually. You wished that you could erase the place from your memory, but you could not. So after ten years living with your mom in London, you returned home expecting things to be the same and for your surprise, you were wrong. Everything changed.

  You sat at the old wooden bench outside the church, staring at the glimpses of the sun illuminating the window, painted in various colors, reflecting a mystical and enchanting kind of light on the walls. The place was quiet, not even the soft sound from birds singing touching your ears. You were suffering from a different kind of grief – the one that come in silence and slowly eat you alive, drowning you in guilty and regret.

– Hi. – A soft voice echoed behind you. As you turned your head to look, you saw a young man, a priest, with a polite smile on his lips. – I’m Father Jud.

– Hi. I’m… just visiting. – You offered him a small smile.

– Are you here for the funeral? – His words made your stomach drop. You nodded. – How did you know Monsignor Wicks?

– I am his daughter.

  Everyone in the city knew – or at least suspected. Wicks took care of you for almost ten years, taught you the lord’s way, helped you get your first job as dog walker, baptized you and then sent you away. Everything he could had done for you, he did. It didn’t took long for the gossip spreads in the small city and mostly in his parish. Martha was the one who helped your mom to move from the city – not from kindness, but for shame. Since then, he never called, never visited, he just left you as a mistake from his past. You hated him for that, how could you not?

– You are the girl he sent away. Martha told me. – He walked at you, sitting by your side with an apologetic look on his face. – I’m sorry for your loss.

– Thank you, Father. – You opened your mouth, words refusing to come out. Jud watched as you smiled, small, incredulous, shaking your head. – I barely knew him and now he is dead.

– Sometimes the greatest lost comes from what it could had been and not what was lost. – Jud said, looking at the church, flickers of sun bathing his eyes.

– I know. I’m sorry, Father…I’m not here to confess or anything. – You sighed. – I am not even catholic anymore.

– We can just talk, not as priest and devoted. Just two people who lost someone. – He looked at you, his voice so soft and eyes so kind. It made you feel bad for even being there, so full of hatred and anguish.

– It’s driving me mad. He should be the one feeling guilty for leaving me, but here am I. It feels like it was my fault for not being here. – You could see your vision being blurred by the tears on the corner of your eyes. – I hate him. How can I hate a dead man?

  Jud could feel how heavy your heart was. It was heartbreaking. He swallowed thickly – remembering his own thoughts. He also hated Monsignor Wicks. On his heart he knew, he wanted him dead, and he was. Now, witnessing your suffering, he could only feel guilty. He stared at you, hands tingling, and a sense of responsibility blossoming in his heart. He wished he could take your pain and treat as he own. To whip your tears and reassure you that God would bring peace to your soul. That he could reach for your hands and stop them from shaking.

– Hating him does not make you cruel. You’re being honest and that’s good. – He turned slightly. – You’re not angry at a dead man, you’re angry at his absence, at what was taken from you. You don’t need to forgive him today. Or ever, in the way people expect. Sometimes grace begins with allowing yourself to tell the truth about what hurts you.

For a moment, you saw the light reaching for him. The sun bathing his figure in a magical way – he looked unreal, perfect and illuminated by the Lord himself. A wave of sadness hit you. His sweet tone destroying your walls and touching the deepest and darkest part of your heart. You wondered how someone could be that good. You were captivated by Father Jud, and you felt slightly bad for it. It wasn’t physical desire – at least you wished it wasn’t – it was something deeper. He looked like light and you were drowning in darkness, at that moment, you felt that you would follow him into anywhere just to see that light on his eyes again and at the same time, you hated him. You hated how good he seemed to be.

– Love and anger can exist in the same place. – He said.

– It’s easy for you to say that. You are practically a saint. I’m not. – You let out an incredulous and revolted chuckle. – I was born in sin, created by failure, as if I was bound to suffer through the sins of my father.

– You were not created by failure. You were created despite it. – He tilted his head and gave you a small smile; browns furrowed softly, his voice breaking. – And I am not a saint. I am just a man redeeming myself to God.

  His words hit you hard. Tears streaming down your face as you burry it on your palms. Jud watched you, so keenly. His heart ached for you. He wanted to make you feel better – to help God make you feel better. Yet, he felt that he could not, he felt powerless as if nothing that he could say would help. He felt that he had failed you.

– I’m sorry, Father. – You got up quickly, whipping the tears and not once looking at Jud again. – Thank you for being so kind.

The four horseman by Metallica played loudly, echoing through the thin walls of Billy’s house. He inhaled the smoke of his cigarette, laying his head back for a moment. He looked at the mirror and passed his fingers through one rebel curl that had fallen down into his eyes, fixing it with a bit of spray. He smiled at himself – he was excited to meet Tina, it was a date after all, he knew that she was willing to do anything for him. He was fresh meat at town, choosing a girl to take out on a Saturday night wasn’t a hard choice.

  Abruptly, he heard Susan’s voice, knocking on his door.

– I’m a little busy in here, Susan. – He screamed over the loud song.

– Open the door. Right now! – His father screamed back. His tone harsh as ever.

  Billy sighed, dousing the cigarette and with quick steps, he opened the door. They stared at him, Susan with an apprehensive feature.

– What’s wrong? – Billy asked.

– Why don’t you tell us? – His father asked, tilting his head slightly, peaking at his room.

– Because I don’t know. – Billy’s tone was annoyed – which only made his father’s anger grew.

– We can’t find Maxine. And her window was open. – Susan said. Her voice was high-pitched, whiny. He hated it how overly dramatic and inoffensive she always sounded.

– Where is she?

– I don’t know. – Billy shrugged. His father looked at him with false surprise. Scratching his eyebrows. – Look, I’m sure she just… I don’t know, went to the arcade or something. I’m sure she’s fine!

– You were supposed to watch her. – Neil said, crossing his arms.

– I know dad, I was. It’s just that you guys are three hours late and…Well, I have a date. – Billy told him, grabbing his jacket and turning his back. – I’m sorry, okay?

– So that’s why you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot, instead of watching your sister?

– I have been looking after her all week, dad! – Billy used a higher tone, annoyed by all the questions and the music slowly getting on his nerves. Neil narrowed his eyes. – If she wants to run off then that’s her problem, all right?! She’s thirteen years old, she shouldn’t need a fulltime babysitter. And she’s not my sister!

  Billy walked to the radio and turned it off, angrily. In the blink of an eye, he was with his back pressed into his closet, Neil’s hands grabbing his shirt and his face centimeters away from his. His breath hitched. Neil looked at him – the kind of look that was more like a warning. Billy clenched his jaw. Anger building up inside of him. And deep down a mix of shame and fear,

– What did we talked about? – Neil murmured and suddenly slapped Billy’s face. Susan watched the scene unfold, her hands shaking as she closed her eyes for a second.

– Respect and responsibility.

– Now. Apology to Susan. – Billy stared at his father eyes. A million thoughts running into his head and at the same time not even one coherent thought. He swallowed his pride and felt the tears in the corner of his eye.

– I’m sorry, Susan.

– It’s okay, Neil. Really… – He interrupted her.

– No! It’s not okay. Nothing about his behavior it’s okay. – He dropped his son, turning to face Susan. His voice more controlled. – But he’s gonna make up for it. He’s going to call whatever whore he’d see tonight and cancel their date. And then, he’s going to find his sister, like the good, kind and respecting brother that he is. Ain’t that right, Billy?

– Yes, sir. – He tried to sound steady. He couldn’t. Not with the feeling of his throat struggling to utter any word or with the single tear running down his cheek. Neil stepped closer to him again, breathing deeply, like a disappointed father.

– Sorry, I couldn’t hear you?

– Yes. Sir. – He said it again, louder this time. Still looking into Neil’s eyes.

– Find Max.

And he left the room. Susan hesitated for a second – as she thought to say something, to apologize maybe. But she was too scared for that. Scared of Neil. Scared of Billy too. She closed the door. Billy closed his eyes, biting his lip and with an impulsive movement, he grabbed his perfume and threw it into the floor. The small bottle throwing pieces of glass all over his carpet. He buried his face into his palms. He wished he could scream, shout and break everything in his room, maybe walk to Neil’s room and beat his face until blood was all that remains. He was frustrated. Mad. Sad. Scared. And he knew it was all Max fault. If she had stayed home or at least asked for permission to go somewhere like a normal fucking kid, nothing would had happened, his father wouldn’t be so angry at him.

  But he felt like it was his fault too. For being a fucking coward and not saying anything back. For letting Neil touches him. For being such a pathetic excuse of man. For letting his mom leave him with Neil. For not being able to do any shit like he was supposed to. He couldn’t understand why his father hated him so much, why nothing was ever good enough. What more did he expect from him? He knew he was already doing the best he could. Yet never felt like it was ever enough.

  He needed to do something.

  When it comes to people dealing with problems; we can put them in two different yet so similar categories. There’s those who enjoy their pain, who decide to endure their agony alone and accept it as their own, as piece of themselves. And there’s those who punish others as a way of forgetting about their own punishments, those who thrives in watching someone else pass through the pain that they had to endure. Billy could somehow be both. Oh, he enjoyed to be the one who puts people in pain. He enjoys being the one who gives the first punch and reduces guys into pools of blood and broke bones. Still, the pain that came with that was also what he loved. The feeling of his back aching or his knuckles in raw flesh after a few punches was what really made him feel alive. The feeling of being capable of causing pain and also being strong enough to endure that pain, is what made him crueler.

  He built himself over broken bones and bloody noses, over nights driving drunk without fearing the death – not waiting for it to catches him, but pursuing it. All that because he needed to be sure that he wasn’t scared, that nothing would ever scare him again. That he would prevail over anything that life could throw on him. He wouldn’t back away, wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t be a coward. He was the man that his father created.

"You think you can tell me what to do, Sinclair?"

The way your name came out of his mouth confused him. He had not planned to use your last name. Nor where you fit into his life. Nothing. It just came out. He moved even closer. You took a deep breath, but didn't back away. It made something inside him burn. Admiration? Anger? Curiosity? He did not know.

  He replayed that small conversation in his head again and again. Something inside him burned. It wasn't anger. It wasn't defiance. It was that feeling he hated to acknowledge: interest. What he felt in that instant was something Billy didn't know how to handle. He didn't know how to name it. He did not know how to push it away. It was not hate. It was not indifference. It was not just tension. It was… you. So obnoxiously innocent, subtly slipping into his mind without even trying. His eyes watching the road, the moon barely bringing light to his car. Your eyes engraved on his thoughts. Staring at him so deeply. He wondered if you felt the same thing – if you couldn’t take him from your mind. If you hated that part of yourself as he hated his.

  His fingers grabbing roughly the steering wheel. The strong wind messing his curls, making it a wild mess. The annoying odor of Hawkins streets filling his car. Music playing in a low tone as he murmured the lyrics. He just kept driving, delaying going home as much as he could. In nights like this, he had stupid thoughts. Hopes of someday having a quiet place to go, somewhere nice where he could rest his head and feel a soft touch on his face. It was ridiculous, he knew. After all, even if that place existed, Billy would be its damned ruin – as he had always been since a child. Destructing his own home. His own mother. His family. Himself.

MATT MURDOCK who is maybe the closest thing to heaven that you are ever going to see. Who’s sweet, kind, thoughtful, soft-spoken, and probably perfect.

MATT MURDOCK who can’t stand seeing you cry or get barely sad so he watches you with precision, always making sure to get you exactly what you need, to hold you how you like it and give you space when you need it. Except, he doesn’t. He cannot. His body physically hurts with the thought of leaving you unattended. He needs to keep you close, so he can be able to hear you, he already doesn’t have how to see you so all he can count with is his hearing, and if you are too far, that also fails him.

MATT MURDOCK who thinks you are the closest to heaven that he will ever get to. That aches every night, praying that he will make it home, to you. That kiss you, as it is his last kiss every time. That sleeps hearing your heartbeat because that is the only way for him to be sure that you are real.

MATT MURDOCK who doesn’t think he deserves you. He’s not a bad man, he knows that, but how can anyone deserves you?

MATT MURDOCK who traces your skin with the tip of his fingers, memorizing every spot with adoration. Who smell your scent and feels like not being able to touch you its unbearable.

MATT MURDOCK who would get on his knees for you without blinking. Who worships you in every way he can. Who loves you with not just his heart, but body and soul. Who belongs to you, and make sure to tell you always.

MATT MURDOCK who loves hearing your laugh. He can’t help it. Always the first to suggest watching comedy movies. Always telling you stupid and silly jokes, and you, of course, laugh at them all, even the not funny ones, just because you love the soft proud smirk he gives you.

MATT MURDOCK who dreams about having a family of his own. To have a nice but no so big house and make it home for you. Who talk about having babies with you when the city is quiet and lay with you on his bed, holding you with a soft smile.

MATT MURDOCK who once said to you that he was tired. Tired of being God’s perfect soldier. Tired of seeing his city falls under corruption and scared that someday it would catch you. Tired of always leaving in the middle of the night without saying goodbye. He cried that night, the first and maybe last time you ever saw that man so vulnerable.

MATT MURDOCK who knows he can’t give up. That he can’t let the daredevil rest. Who knows that his city needs him.