#dartois

🎩: However, she finds herself thinking about that moment alone in her wagon, her hand lingering where yours had reached out to fix her collar… her fingertips brushed over the exact place where yours had touched her. It made their skin tingle, and, for whatever reason, it wasn't a sensation they could classify as either "good" or "bad." Usually late at night, while the rest of the circus slept, she helped Galen with completing paperwork and documentation needed for the next town the circus would be traveling to, but tonight, she finds herself unable to focus on a single task on her list. They cannot help but curse you silently, simultaneously wishing you would explode where you stood, but also being grateful you had caught something they uncharacteristically seemed to miss. They just lay atop their neatly-made bed, their mind thinking back to that moment that was most likely so insignificant to you, but one that had made a far greater impact on them than they would like to admit. With a sigh, she heads to her desk, hoping that she will be able to get something of significance done tonight. Though, with the way her mind was working, the likelihood of that was low…

🎩: The next day, they search the circus top-to-bottom looking for you, a strange feeling in their body that made their bones vibrate. They still weren’t very good at identifying their emotions, even though you had been helping them expand their vocabulary for such things the past however many months since your fateful, and somewhat traumatic, first encounter. Eventually, they find you helping a few other workers prepare the big top for the evening performance, watching you for a moment before eventually making her way over to where you were kneeling in the dirt. When Adelina comes to ask you to follow her, she is stiff. Her posture is impossibly straight, and her shoulders are pushed back as far as one could get them. However, from the flyaway hairs that shot out of their braid like sprouts, you had a feeling something was up. The other members eye her curiously before she asks if you were free to talk, which you respond by saying you could take a short break (after making sure your coworkers could handle the task at hand, that is). Once you two were away from the other members, tucked into an empty corner of the tent, Adelina thanked you for fixing their collar the night before. Her words are sincere, even if they do sound a bit awkward coming from her mouth, but Adelina always had an air of reservation about her. That wasn’t something that would ever change. You notice the way her clawed hands dig almost anxiously into her palms, most likely hard enough to leave marks in her flesh, before she coughs into her fist, averting her gaze from yours.

“Apologies for pulling you away from your work, but I must… thank you for your assistance last night. Your kind gesture has been at the forefront of my mind since then, and I needed to inform you as soon as possible that your aid was much appreciated. I always try to ensure I look my best, so… thank you, again, for catching something that seemingly slipped my attention. I would like to treat you to a meal to show my gratitude, so please, choose wherever you would like.” 

🤡: Benedict, despite his attempts to be as put-together as Adelina or naturally fashionable like Clementine, always had a hard time when it came to making sure he looked relatively put-together. He wore clothes that showcased their wear and tear, with everything he owned either adorned with patches scattered across the expanse of fabric or whimsically-embroidered patterns he sewed to mend any holes. They enjoyed their wardrobe greatly, though, and they took pride in their well-loved sweaters and jeans. To them, it showcased how much they loved and cherished the gifts given to them. As long as he put the effort into his appearance during shows or when working with the public while on the clock, everything was good and dandy (he would never do anything to potentially put the circus’s reputation at risk). However, when it came to his performance attire, sometimes he had a difficult time getting everything where it needed to be. Usually, Adelina or Clementine were able to give him a hand, but he had no clue where they were… He almost started panicking, unable to tie his bow properly as his fingers shook with a sudden and uncharacteristic nervousness when, like an angel descending from heaven, you appeared. 

🤡: You motioned for him to lean down so you could tie the ribbon around his neck into a neat bow, and the way that your fingers brush against his neck has his heart racing and his body heating up almost embarrassingly quickly. After all, for humans, the neck was one of the most vulnerable parts of them, and here you were, touching his like it was nothing (he wanted to touch yours, too, but you didn’t need any help with your attire). Then, with a smile and a supportive pat on the shoulder, you leave him where he was standing. He was impossibly still, like a statue, just watching as you left to see if any of the other performers needed help before the show. Benedict can’t help but stare at you walking away, completely breathless and stuck in a state of awe. As soon as you turned away, they immediately covered their face with their hands, almost as though they were afraid the color that was painted on their cheeks would be able to bleed through the mask they always wore. The moment reminded them of a scene from one of their favorite romance novels, and the way you were so nonchalant with it?? He had no idea you could be so suave, and it had his heart pounding! Honestly, despite doing his best, he has a difficult time focusing on that evening’s performance, making a few mistakes here and there. Thankfully, the crowd thought they were purposeful, roaring in laughter whenever he messed up juggling the pins or balls. Sometimes, he was very happy that he was a simple clown and not something more extravagant. 

🤡: Once the show was over, he could not help the way his heart beat rapidly inside his chest, almost as if it was trying to break free from the cage his ribs formed around it. He needed to see you again as soon as he possibly could, hoping that you would allow him to be selfish for a brief moment. It doesn’t matter what kind of relationship the two of you have – whether it be platonic, romantic, or something in between – Benedict is the kind of person who is starved for attention and touch. So, as soon as everything wraps up, he’s immediately on the hunt for you. It’s not hard to find you, and sometimes you wonder if they have some kind of inhuman ability to track you down. In a way, though, it would make sense if they did. Benedict was a predator, whether he liked it or not, but in those moments where he craved your attention like a drug, it made getting his fix of you a lot easier. So, in an impossibly gentle voice, he asks if you would be willing to help him once more. He had to wear a lot of different layers for his performance, after all – could you spare some time to aid him? They were so, so tired after tonight, they barely had the energy to do it themselves (lies… they don’t even get tired).  

🤡: If you agree to help, he’ll be as happy as a lark, trying not to explode at the way your hands carefully removed the tie from his neck or the way your fingers gingerly unbuttoned his shirt. It’s an innocent touch, one filled with love and care, but they cannot help but wish to be closer to you. After all, you were the only one who knew what he truly was, and yet, you stayed. At pretty much every show after this moment, Benedict finds some thinly-veiled excuse to request your assistance when he’s getting ready for his performance. All of a sudden, his hat is refusing to sit atop his head – would you be so kind as to give him a hand? Oh, his usually deft hands are trembling despite him never once feeling anxious before a show… could you help him make sure all of the bells that hung from his attire were properly fastened? He knows it’s ridiculous that he invents these situations just to ask you specifically to help him – he knows you would help him even if there wasn’t an excuse as to why he couldn’t do it himself – but, at least for now, he’s not ready to admit how selfishly he craves your touch. 

“Oh dear! It seems as though I am having a tremendously difficult time tying my bow again! My poor fingers must be shaking from nerves. If only I had someone nearby who would be able to aid me… Ah! Hello there, my dear, what perfect timing! Thank you for coming to my aid once more! I am having some difficulty with my tie again... Oh, I feel horrible having to ask this of you, but would you be able to help me with it once more? I apologize for the inconvenience…”

💬: Unlike Adelina, who would check multiple times to ensure she looked perfect in nearly every sense of the word, or Benedict, who tended to be a bit lax when it came to his appearance, Clementine never struggled with the way they looked or cared much about how others viewed them. They didn’t feel the need to look perfect, nor did they want to make a statement; they just wanted to feel comfortable in their own skin, so they chose clothing that helped them achieve that. Things simply fell into place for them without any issue every time they styled their hair differently or decided to try on a new outfit. They didn’t need to put in as much effort the way that some of their fellow performers did, and it was something they were grateful for. They already had so many things that raced through their mind, and the last thing they needed was something else they had to fuss over. Another aspect of their appearance they particularly liked was their shorter hair, especially on days when it was especially windy. They didn’t have to worry about anything blowing in front of their eyes, or needing to excuse themselves to tame any flyaway hairs… That day, however, as everyone was preparing for the show in the evening, the wind was harsher than Clementine had ever remembered it being before; their eyes squeezed shut behind their mask as it blew against their face.

💬: It was hard to work in conditions like this, but such was life. They simply sucked it up and continued to aid in preparing the tent for the performance. That was, however, until you called out their name. They hum in response and turn to look at you, not having a single moment to comprehend what was happening as your hand suddenly reaches out to fix the bow in their hair. It seemed as though the wind had nearly caused the ribbon to become loose, so you clipped it back onto their locks exactly where it needed to be. Your fingertips, when they brushed against their hair, were so soft and gentle… Their breath hitches in their throat, and their eyes become impossibly large underneath the protection of their mask (they were thankful every day no one could see the expressions plastered across their face). They pull away from your touch as quickly as a bolt of lightning, and before you can rear your hand back to apologize for startling them, they grab your wrist with a bit too much force and drag you underneath the bleachers of the big top. Their mind was spinning, and their heart was racing. They didn’t like this feeling, and as soon as you two were hidden away from peering eyes, they turned you around as their hands gripped your shoulders tightly, their nails digging into your clothing. 

💬: Their immediate reaction to the situation is to scold you. If there was something wrong with their bow, you should have just told them, and they would have been perfectly happy to fix it themself. It’s painful for them whenever you do something like this – when you show them kindness, when you show them that you care about them... That deep-seated hunger that resides within them and their kin makes it harder not to devour you whole, that desire to absorb you into their being while the world around marches forward as if you never had existed in the first place, only becomes more pronounced whenever you do something like that. They want to consume you, but at the same time, they want you here with them. They want you to watch them perform, they want to hear your laugh or the sound of your breathing when you fall asleep, and they want to look at the stars together with you. They tell you as much, their voice much deeper than usual, before they quickly pull away as if you had burned them. Their arms cross over their chest, one hand nervously playing with the strands of hair that hang down and frame their face. One day, you were going to be the death of them… or rather, they would be the death of you.

💬: Even after the mild scolding you received, they can’t bring themselves to be angry at you. Their mind flipped between hating your touch and craving it more than anything else in this world. They craved your warmth, and yet, they flinched away as if it had scalded them whenever you attempted to share it… Their hair almost tingles from where you had touched them, and they reach up to run their fingers through the strands, hoping that it would make the sensation fade. The two of you jolt when you hear one of the other performers call your names, and you realize that you two had practically just disappeared without a word. With a slight huff, Clementine tells you that if you notice anything that needs fixing on their person, just let them know… or at least announce that you were planning on touching them in some manner. Before the two of you leave the make-shift private space underneath the bleachers to return to work, they notice how downtrodden you seem, and they can’t help but feel a bit guilty, even if what they were telling you was for your overall safety. So, before the two of you return to your duties, they reach out to smooth down your wind-blown hair, their cheeks burning bright red beneath their mask. If you attempt to tease them for this, they’re just going to camp out in their wagon for a few days to avoid you – their heart can’t handle it. 

“Y-You, why did–... Are you trying to kill me?? …No, I’m not – I’m not mad, I just… I wasn’t expecting you to, you know… touch me. It wasn’t a bad touch, but I just–... I’m not used to it, you know that, and it just – it caught me off-guard, is all… Do I want you to do it again? D-Do you hear how ridiculous you sound!? You know how I get when you get too close, and I don’t want to… I think I need to be alone for a little bit. I’ll, umm… I-I’ll see you later.” 

🔪: Dartois didn’t care much about whether or not they looked “good.” If he liked the way he looked, he was happy – besides, the opinions of random humans weren’t able to sway him. If someone found their piercings gaudy? Well, that was too bad, and he thought they were missing out on how fun it was to get one. How about if someone didn’t like the way she styled her hair? Clearly, those people were just stuck in the past and needed to get with the times; dyed hair wasn’t anything groundbreaking. What if someone had a nasty comment to say about one of the many tattoos that littered his flesh that he himself carved into his skin? It simply went in one ear and came out the other; there were plenty of humans who had tattoos, some with whole sleeves or intricate, inked designs that climbed all the way up their neck (it was on their bucket list to eventually have every single inch of their flesh adorned with some kind of illustration). Because of this, Dartois never really pays much mind to things being “out of place.” She wears whatever she wants, however she wants. So what if their shirt was inside out or their socks were mismatched? If it didn’t bother them, it certainly shouldn’t bother anyone else. 

🔪: That day was the first time he had ever seen snow, and he found the sight both blinding and breathtaking. The way it floated down from the sky, like rain but not quite, had their eyes sparkling with wonder. They didn’t even have to think for a moment before they found themselves frolicking through the ankle-high blanket of white, tripping over their own feet before falling into the piles of fresh snow. Beneath her mask was a smile that stretched across the entire expanse of her face, warm breath causing puffs of fog to fill the air as it slipped past her lips. They hadn’t bothered changing out of their pajamas when they looked out the window of their wagon that morning and saw the sight, lying there in the snow in a simple button-down shirt that reached their thighs. Then, he heard the approaching sound of footsteps crunching in the snow, opening his eyes once more to look up at you. Your nose was red, and your cheeks even moreso despite not having been outside for more than a few moments. Then, when you cross your arms over your chest and ask him to put on some weather-appropriate clothes so he doesn’t freeze his ass off, he cannot help but chuckle. Only you would ever have the gall to talk to them like that, and yet, they didn’t mind. You were their savior, after all – they would do whatever you asked of them with a smile.

🔪: So, she stands up to follow you into your personal quarters at the circus while you dig around in the small dresser you had in your wagon, knowing for sure that Dartois didn’t have anything that was made to withstand such cold temperatures. When you shove a pair of gloves into his hands, he puts them on without complaint, flexing his fingers a few times for good measure. Then, when you toss a fluffy coat at them, they immediately slip it on without a second thought, even if they didn’t particularly enjoy the sensation of such heavy clothing weighing them down. They much preferred to wear light, loose-fitting clothes instead. Though when you come over and zip the coat up until it reaches their chin, then decide to wrap a scarf around their neck for good measure, they find it nearly impossible to breathe. You’re talking to them, they can hear your voice muffled in their ears, but they’re so focused on the warmth of your body and the feeling of your hands so close to their neck, their mind cannot make out a single thing you’re saying. Oh, how they wish they could just wrap you up in their arms and never let you go… Dartios was never one to fight off sudden urges or impulsive thoughts that crossed her mind, though, so she does just that — wrapping her arms firmly around your person and pulling you into her chest with a playful giggle.

🔪: After getting their fill of your body pressed against theirs, they finally go back outside to resume their exploration of such a new experience. You show them how to make snow angels, snowballs (which results in a battle between the two of you), and even a snowman, which they find to be quite amusing – it looks nothing like a human. Then, you’re both lying on the ground, breathing heavy as warm puffs of fog fill the air like smoke. You’d both have to start preparing for the show later tonight, but she didn’t care about that right now. He turns his head to look at you, and you do the same, reaching out to brush some snowflakes that had fallen into his hair. Ah, their heart skipped a beat again, and they wonder how such mundane acts can make their skin flush… They mirror your actions, a mischievous look in their eyes as their hands press against your head before rapidly, and perhaps a bit too harshly, messing up your slightly damp locks. He finds it funny when you let out a sound of protest in response, grabbing a handful of snow and blindly tossing it in his direction. Perhaps they needed to make it a habit to know what humans should be wearing in different weather conditions, just so they could do the opposite – they enjoyed it when you were concerned about their well-being. 

“I don’t need all of this, you know – after all, I don’t get cold the same way you do, my lovely human~. Ah, my silly, silly human… I would be lying, though, if I said I didn’t enjoy the way you fuss over me like this. It’s funny, in a way, that you worry over something like me. Why is that, hmm? Surely you must have a reason… Oh? You simply care for me that deeply, do you? Hehe, you just made that thing in my chest do a little flip~... Make it do it again. I quite liked it~...” 

💪🏾: Elliott didn’t care much for his appearance, typically finding it to be a waste of his day to spend too much time fussing over it. He didn’t need to buy intricate or eye-catching articles to wear, instead settling for the most bare-bones clothes one could imagine. Most of what was in his closet was bland and uninteresting – simple pieces that made it easier for him to blend into the background and aid him in being completely unnoticeable. The duller he looked, the better. He was what humans would probably call an ambush predator; though, he had to admit that he did like a good chase every now and again… That meant, however, he tended to have very little variety in his closet, resulting in most of his clothing being very well-worn. He didn’t care much about it, but sometimes his hole-ridden jackets and pants tended to catch attention, especially the ones covered in dirt and grass stains he didn’t care much about cleaning off. Such was life. Besides, what was the point in fussing over some dirty clothes when they would simply get dirty again? While he was a performer at night for the circus, he primarily did a lot of physically demanding work during the day due to his size and strength. He enjoyed the work, though, especially the way that the surrounding humans always found themselves in awe by the fact that he could move something that usually took three men all by himself; it was an ego-booster (not that he needed any more of that, as Adelina would probably say). 

💪🏾: It was raining that day, but he didn’t mind. He had slept in the middle of the woods in worse weather than this, and besides, it’s not like the chill of the rain affected him the same way it would a human. His species was built to withstand pretty much anything, so getting a little wet wasn’t a big deal. He never understood why the others were so mindful about what they wore and when they wore it; if someone had a problem with what he decided to throw on that morning, they could simply tell him to his face their opinion. He didn’t think much about the weather, either, standing out in the rain as clumps of mud clung to his boot-clad feet while he watched as his newfound coworkers went about setting everything up for the performances later in the week. Most of the employees were either adorned in some kind of rain gear to protect themselves from the sudden storm or panicking as they attempted to flee somewhere the rain wasn’t able to touch them. Elliott can’t help but chuckle at that, finding the reactions of humans to something as harmless as water to be almost pathetic. Then, suddenly, he doesn’t feel the rhythmic tapping of droplets on his coat or hair anymore. 

💪🏾: When he glances down, you’re standing there beside him, two umbrellas clasped tightly in your hands – ah, that’s why it stopped raining on him. Then, with a frown, you push one of the umbrellas into his hand, and he takes it from you with little resistance. He raises a questioning brow at you in response, yet you cannot see it under the mask he always wears. When your lips straighten out, that sullen look no longer plastered across your face, your fingers tentatively reach up, brushing a coiled strand of hair from his damp forehead. Well, that was bold of you – he can’t help but smirk, leaning down to your level to tease you a bit for having the audacity to touch him in such a familiar manner. You roll your eyes and scoff at him in response, muttering under your breath that if he gets sick, it’ll be his fault (he doesn’t get sick, but he doesn’t correct you on it) before walking away to resume helping your coworkers set up. As you leave, he finds himself focusing on the way his mind replays the sensation of your fingers brushing against his skin, and a pathetic part of himself wishes you would do it again. Maybe he could chase you down, put on an act to see if you would aid him, but you wouldn’t fall for that — not if he did it, at least. Besides, unlike some of his kin that resided at the circus, he wasn’t going to stoop that low for your attention. He would simply get it in other ways. 

💪🏾: The next time it’s raining, you were the one caught off-guard, not having an umbrella or raincoat handy when the skies decided to open up and pour down onto the world below. Then, when the rain suddenly stops beating down on you, you look up and see Elliott hovering over your crouched form, returning the favor from however many weeks ago the first rainy-day encounter was (not that you were keeping track of the time). Beneath his mask, he’s grinning, and then he reaches down to brush your damp hair from your forehead, his warm fingers lingering on your flesh as he mimics your previous actions mockingly. You bat his hand away with a huff, and he can’t help but laugh. He makes it a habit from then on out to pay attention to your hair and clothing, always doing something to get a reaction out of you – from fixing the collar of your shirt, to zipping up your jacket, to smoothing out your hair – he does it all to get some kind of rise out of you (no, it’s not because he cares or enjoys touching you, don’t be ridiculous). If you do the same for him, he doesn’t mind. If you feel the need to worry over him, he’s not going to tell you otherwise, even if he does find it to be a waste of your time. 

🎩: After a moment of brief contemplation, they make their way over to you with practiced steps, dodging their fellow performers with ease after so many years of experience, with their gloved hands clasped rigidly behind their back. It didn’t take long for her to reach you. Here she was, standing right in front of you, and yet, your gaze almost feels like you're staring through her rather than directly at her. Beneath her mask, her brows furrow, and she calls your name in a strangely soft tone, one that is barely audible above the noise around you. When you don't react, they do it again, their voice becoming firmer each time they try to get your attention. As more time passes, she realizes that her initial concern was very much valid, especially considering you didn’t seem to be mentally present at the moment. A quick glance at the clock shows she has about twenty minutes before her routine, and she hopes that will be enough time to aid you through whatever you are currently experiencing. Despite not being one for physical contact, she reaches out and takes your hand in hers carefully, dragging you out of the chaos and somewhere far away from everyone else while being incredibly mindful of her touch. Even though her gloves kept her claws concealed, she didn’t want to run the risk of harming you. However, when you don’t react to her hand pressed against yours, it only causes the pit in her stomach to deepen. 

🎩: As soon as the two of you are somewhere private, far away from all the overwhelming noises and smells and lights, Adelina releases her hold on your hand after helping you sit down. Immediately, she begins to ask you question after question to determine her course of action… and you don’t reply to a single one. That wasn’t like you, not at all – at least not anymore. You two were close now; you didn’t have to watch your tongue or worry about things the same way you once did, but you weren’t talking. You weren’t even looking at her, that unfamiliar, distant, and hazy look in your eyes causing her intestines to tie together in knots. She quickly glances at the clock again, realizing she doesn’t have much time left before her act. Adelina needed to be there, and she couldn’t be late – couldn’t disappoint everyone, couldn’t have this moment be a blemish on her perfect record… but she also couldn’t leave you here alone. They would never be able to forgive themself if something happened to you while you weren’t mentally present. So, after accepting the fact that she wouldn’t be there to perform on opening night (for the first time in her entire life), she pulls up a chair to sit next to you, silently hoping that everyone would be able to manage without her and wouldn't be too upset at her uncharacteristic absence. She doesn’t want to touch you in this state, and she doesn’t want to ask since you’re clearly too overwhelmed to answer. Instead, her hands focus on picking off any stray piece of lint or string from your clothing, just something simple, in the hopes it would let you know she was here for you without being too overstimulating. 

🎩: Hours had passed by the time you came to, your mind finally able to once again comprehend what was happening around you. Your heartbeat was steady, and your brain was no longer blanketed in a thick fog. Your body felt like it was yours again, with the only uncomfortable thing being your backside, most likely due to how you had been sitting relatively motionless for an unknown amount of time. When you turn and see Adelina sitting next to you in silence, her hands clasped tightly in front of her with her eyes focused intently on you, you cannot help but wonder why she is here. They were supposed to perform, weren't they? When they inform you of their choice to stay by your side rather than participate in their act, you cannot help but feel a wave of guilt wash over you. However, she's quick to inform you that it was her choice – how she wanted to stay with you, and that she wouldn't have felt right leaving you in the care of another while in such a vulnerable state. Adelina raises a single hand in an effort to pause your rambling. Then, carefully and slowly, giving you plenty of time to tell her to stop, she cups your cheeks in her palms. Even through her gloves, you can feel that her hands are cold. They try not to tremble when your warmth bleeds into the fabric of their gloves, and they try not to pull away when you lean into their touch, seeking their comfort. Despite it being something so foreign to her, she wants to try to connect with you on a human level, and if all you need is some reassurance and a gentle touch, then she can at least do that much for you.

“Ah, welcome back. I am glad to see you have returned to me… No, no – you do not need to explain anything, my dear, I was just… Never mind me, are you doing alright? Is there anything I can fetch for you? The performances are over for the night, and I do not have any more plans for the evening… Oh, please do not fret – it was my choice to stay by your side, and I wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you in anyone else’s care… If there is anything I can improve on to aid you through moments like these in the future, please let me know. I want to do my best by you, even if I do not fully understand it.” 

🤡: Everything had been going perfectly fine that day, Benedict thought. His performance the evening before was well-received, and he had spent the entire night cooking up some of your favorite foods and snacks as thanks for all of your help around the circus these past few months. While your relationship certainly hadn’t started on the best foot (which was putting it lightly), you were still kind to them, and they couldn’t be more thankful to you for that. Now that the sun had risen over the horizon and you were most likely awake, they immediately set off to your designated car in the circus’s train layout. It wasn’t a very far journey for them, quite the opposite, really. It was probably for the better that the trip was short, though, considering the precarious tower of Tupperware they were balancing in their hands. When they arrive at your car, they knock on the door once, twice… thrice in a rhythmic fashion, and then they wait patiently for you to appear in front of them. After standing there for five or so minutes, he tries again, but once more, nothing happens. There's no sound of you moving around inside, but also no sign that you had stepped out for the day, either. So, with a strange feeling swirling in his stomach, one that continues growing with each passing second, he finally bites the bullet. He quickly fiddles with the lock on your door before slipping inside without a sound (he'd apologize for overstepping boundaries later). When he sees you just lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he’s relieved you're alright. He calls out your name cheerily, greeting you with a good morning, and setting the food he brought over on the table. However, you don't respond… You don't even acknowledge his presence.

🤡: You had a dream last night of something you didn’t want to remember, a memory that you thought you had long since buried. When you opened your eyes that morning, it still felt as though you were sleeping – like you were just existing within a dream. Your body simultaneously felt like there was lead in your chest, weighing you down, while your limbs were filled with helium as they tried to lift you into the sky. Your flesh and bones didn’t even feel like yours anymore, and time had been dragging on for what seemed like hours… When did you even wake up? How long had it been? You see movement in your peripheral vision, and for a moment, you think you are hallucinating, but no, that most certainly was Benedict, carrying a ridiculous amount of food in his arms. He says something to you, but your brain can't comprehend his words. You couldn't move, you couldn't speak — you could only lie there, staring over at him with a blank expression. He seemed to catch on quickly that something was not right, coming over to you and staring down at your form while you stared back, whispering your name under his breath as he reached out in an attempt to touch you. However, he stops himself, quickly pulling his hand back. Would touching you make whatever was happening worse? They didn't want to risk it, to risk harming you or escalating the situation, so they instead pulled up a chair and sat down next to you. With their hands folded in their lap, they made small talk with you, discussing nothing in particular.

🤡: He tells you about the food he had made for you that morning, how last night's show went well (his performance got more applause than usual!), and how he missed you — he told you that he was glad to be able to be in your presence again after that felt like eons. Benedict doesn't expect you to say anything back, even though they wish you would. They keep talking even as they stand up and prepare a plate of one of the dishes they had brought over, the scent of your favorite meal billowing through the space. He comes back over to sit beside you again, placing the food on the table by your bedside. For a moment, he stops speaking, watching the way your fingers twitch ever so slightly. Slowly, hesitantly, he reaches forward, wrapping his index finger around yours. With a feather-light touch, he rubs his thumb across your knuckles, resuming his monologue about whatever possibly came to his mind while he did everything he could to not show how worried and anxious he was. That distant and foggy look in your eyes made their stomach churn, flashbacks of glazed-over eyes and ice-cold skin flashing in their mind. Immediately, he pushes those memories to the far corners of his brain with a shake of his head, instead focusing on the warmth your hand emitted against his palm and the heartbeat he could feel when his thumb periodically pressed against your wrist (he was just making sure).

🤡: You weren't sure how long it had been when the haze that had filled your mind like smog throughout a city, heavy and impossible to see through, slowly began to clear. You could smell the lingering scent of your favorite meal in the air, feel the warmth of someone's hand in yours, and hear the sound of Benedict's voice as he spoke about the extensive history of balloons. When you squeeze their hand habitually, calling out their name with a voice that sounds painfully raw, they jump and turn to look down at you, their head moving so quickly you could have sworn, if they were human, their neck would have broken right then and there. His first instinct is to grab and hold you, but he doesn't, faltering for a moment before he speaks rapidly and moves to stand up, rushing to the little kitchen in your wagon to fetch you a glass of water. He comes back to your side and hands it to you, grabbing at your clothing with his index finger and thumb as you sit up slowly to take a drink. He needed to touch you in some manner, afraid that if he didn't, you would slip away from him again. After drinking enough water to help wet your parched throat, he goes back to holding your hand, asking you if you want to talk about what had happened (he's sure to let you know you don't have to if you don't want to). Whether you choose to tell him or not, he sincerely apologises for breaking into your wagon, looking like a kicked puppy as he does so. Though when he hears your laugh, it is like all the negative emotions swirling in his head are washed away. Benedict smiles softly beneath his mask, and he swears to himself he will never allow you to go through another moment like this alone again.

“Ah! Good morning, my dear!! Or, rather, good afternoon now, haha! I… would you like to talk about it? W-We don't have to, of course – please don't feel pressured to share or anything! I want to make sure that I know what to do the next time something like this happens! Does it… happen to you a lot? I can't imagine how scary that must be… I'm glad I came in, and, uh… I apologize for picking your lock, but in my defense, I thought something horrible had happened to you, and—! …H-Huh? Why are you laughing?? Come on, I'm not even trying to be funny right now! Well, nevertheless, I'm happy to see your smiling face again – it always brightens up my days.”

💬: It was after a performance one night when it happened. You had convinced Clementine to spend the evening with you (after some… somewhat excessive pleading on your end). It wasn't that they didn't like spending time with you — rather, it was actually quite the opposite. They enjoyed your presence, your voice, and the time you were willing to, at least in their eyes, sacrifice just so you two could have more moments together. It was nothing that you did that made Clementine want to keep their distance; that was fully on them. However, when they agreed to spend the night with you after being thoroughly convinced, you were ecstatic. Clementine had made their way over to your designated car in the train's layout, opening the door and entering, clad in much more casual attire than their usual getup. Inside, you were waiting, a wide smile on your face as you began to pull out a variety of different activities you managed to grab for the impromptu sleepover. However, for whatever reason, your chipper mood dissolved like paper in water, and your excitement didn't last long. Memories you thought you had worked through and moved past flooded into your mind, and it made you feel like you were drowning. You couldn't even be sure as to what triggered the sudden episode, either… Was it the food you had made? Was it the song that played over the radio, or the specific lighting of the room? It could have even been a sudden change in fabric texture when you shifted on the bed where you sat that made you begin to spiral, your mind growing distant from your body in an attempt to keep itself safe. Nothing felt right, and yet, you couldn't even ask Clementine for help. You couldn't speak — your throat felt like it was closing up, and your brain was refusing to string the correct words together.

💬: Clementine can tell something was wrong when you went from talking their ear off to suddenly not speaking at all. When they turn to look at you and see that distant and dazed look in your eyes, they call out your name in an attempt to see what is wrong. When you don't reply, when you don't even react to their voice, they find themselves frozen, too. Your vitals sounded consistent, heart rate not having increased or decreased, but the scent of your fear and anxiety was thick in the air, and it made Clementine nearly choke while their stomach churned. They couldn't stay here with you… The fact that you were entirely helpless in the moment caused panic to well up inside their chest. They were worried they would hurt you and not be able to keep their desires to consume you at bay — that they would do something to make whatever you were experiencing worse, so they ran. With quick movements, they stand up from the floor and rush out of your wagon, the door slamming behind them with a loud thud. Even in your dazed state, you watched Clemetine stand up and bolt out of your train car, leaving you completely alone in the now silent space. You wanted to call out to them, beg them not to leave you here alone, but the words your mind so desperately wanted to scream never came. You find yourself unable to do much of anything besides stare blankly at the door, almost hoping that Clementine will come back, but they never do. Eventually, your mind goes blank, and all you can focus on is the way your lungs expand and deflate with each breath.

💬: It takes your brain a while to realize that multiple people waltzed into your train car, almost as though it was buffering and trying to process the new visual and auditory stimulation. The door that had remained in the same position for however long opened, and multiple familiar figures stepped inside the space. You're snapped out of your ruminating by the sound of their voices, and your eyes move to look up at the people who were suddenly surrounding you… It made you feel like you were some kind of exhibit at a museum. Clara was standing over you, her brows pinched in concern as she kneeled beside your bed, hands hovering over your form. When she asks if she can touch you, her voice a gentle whisper, you nod, and she carefully places a palm on your shoulder, rubbing comforting circles against your shirt-covered arm. Benedict was hovering nearby, his body stiff as he fiddled with his hands, watching over you while Clara continued her attempts to soothe your mind. You could hear the faint sound of Adelina and Galen talking outside, but those were the only voices you could make out. Clementine was nowhere to be found, and that fact made a stone weigh heavily in your chest. Clara asks Benedict to dim the lights and turn off the radio, which he does without question, and after what feels like ages, slowly, your mind returns to your body.

💬: All of them take the time to check up on you, trying their best not to overwhelm you, but wanting to make sure that you are okay to be left alone for the remainder of the evening (Benedict offers to keep you company, but you decline his offer for tonight). Once your flesh felt like yours again and unwanted memories were no longer dictating your consciousness, everyone leaves, some more hesitantly than others, but just like that, you're once again the only person in the wagon. The silence feels heavy, and a part of you wishes that you had asked someone to stay. At some point, you fall asleep, but you wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. When you force yourself to get out of bed, still feeling the strange lingering sensation of your dissociative episode, you make your way to the door and open it. Clementine stands there for a moment, quiet, before commenting that you look better than you did and asks if they could come inside, head bowed low and hands fidgeting with the hem of their cardigan. You nod and step aside, and they immediately begin to talk, all of the words flowing out of their mouth like vomit. They kept apologizing, kept saying that they couldn't help you, so they ran to get people who could. It's not as though they wanted to leave you, but they knew they had to — they were afraid they'd make things worse, or do something they could never take back. At some point, you try your best to comfort them, placing a reassuring hand on their shoulder as the two of you move to sit on your mattress, something that only makes them feel the heavy sensation of guilt become more unbearable. Despite wanting to run, to do everything they could to never see you again, they didn't want to. Clementine didn't want you to think it was your fault they suddenly stopped talking to you (that was all on them), so they carefully took your hands in theirs, promising you they wouldn't let you down like that again.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do. You weren't talking, and you weren't moving, and I–… I had to leave. I was scared I would hurt you, o-or do something to make everything worse. I didn't want to do that. Not to you, of all people… please, tell me what you need me to do, or what you want me to do. I can get Adelina, or Benedict, or Galen, or Clara again — they've already shown they're more helpful than I could ever possibly be, and I… I just want you to be safe, and healthy, and… I'm sorry. Y-You shouldn't be the one having to comfort me after you just experienced... whatever that was… I'm sorry – I won't let you down again.” 

🔪: You two had been walking around the nearby town, taking in all the new sights of the area while Dartios dragged you happily along behind him, his attention being pulled in twenty different directions at once. This was something that you simply had to accept whenever you accompanied them on their excursions around the cities the circus stopped in, and most of the time, it was fine. Though when you suddenly caught the whiff of something that made it almost difficult to breathe, unwanted memories rushed into your mind like water out of a broken dam. Suddenly, just like that, everything changed. The freeing and somewhat exciting moment of exploring this new place with Dartois by your side became one of anxiety and fear, almost as if you had just been thrown and locked inside a cage with no hope of being let out. It felt like your throat was closing up, and the longer you spent weaving your way through crowds of people, the more the world around you blurred. You felt trapped, and your body started to feel like it was not yours anymore. It was like you were controlling a puppet, limbs feeling like little needles were being shoved into your skin and causing painful jolts to shoot through your muscles; even the beating in your chest began to feel foreign, the longer time ticked on. Dartois is slow to notice your sudden change in disposition, talking about and pointing to anything and everything that catches her attention. However, it's after the seventh or eighth time you don't respond to their comments that they realize there might be something wrong. They immediately stop walking, your body colliding with the back of theirs. This sudden break causes others walking down the sidewalk to make comments about the human-shaped obstacles in their way, huffing loudly as they're forced to move around the two of you.

🔪: Dartois turns around and tilts their head at you, calling out your name before poking your cheek with their index finger. When you don't say anything or even react when he touches you, he hums and pulls you off to the side, fingers intertwined with yours. He drags you through different alleyways and less-traveled paths in the town, eventually stopping when pavement and brick become grass beneath your soles. City noises and smells thin out, replaced by the scent of a fresh-cut lawn and blooming spring flowers. Dartois stops to look at you one more time, taking note of the distant look in your eyes. They're unsure of what to do, so they sit you down on a nearby bench and… leave you there. Perhaps you needed some food, so they did just that, rushing off to find you something to eat or drink — anything they thought you'd like, really. Meanwhile, you're sitting alone on a bench in a foreign city park, trying to focus on the way the wood grain feels underneath your fingertips while the sound of children laughing in the distance echoes through the area. You can hear the sound of a fountain bubbling, the occasional bark of a dog coming from nearby, and the muffled voices of people talking in the distance. The sun felt warm on your skin as it filtered through leaves, and in that moment, you closed your eyes, focusing on the way your chest moved with each breath while birds chirped away in the background. Then, the sun disappears when a shadow suddenly falls across your eyelids. When you force your eyes open again, which took far too much energy to do, Dartois is standing in front of you, holding an impressive amount of different things in her arms. They move to sit next to you, placing the items they had gathered around you like one would an altar.

🔪: He had brought you a few of your favorite snacks and drinks, as well as random items like a small toy, a stuffed animal, and even some fresh-cut flowers whose petals were crinkled and some stems clearly broken (did they buy these things, or did they take whatever they found they thought you might like?). When you don't move to touch or take anything, nor do you react to their gifts, Dartois can't help but wonder what they did to upset you to such a severe degree. So, he places the stuffed animal in your lap, and he gently opens your hand to place the little fidget he had found in your palm. It wasn't anything flashy, just a stress ball filled with putty, but its weight was grounding in your hand, and you squeezed it, watching the way it bubbled between your fingers. Despite his initial thought being that he had made you feel this way, he also knew he had never once before seen you in such a state. Everything felt… strange to them, and they attempted to speak to you, but once again, they were met with silence and that eerily blank look. So, instead of continuing to try what didn't work, they decided to take the time to explore the nearby park, giving you some more time alone. You watch as they chase a gaggle of geese near the lake (and are subsequently chased back) before they turn their attention to a nearby tree, attempting to climb up it… which results in them tumbling off the branches moments after hoisting themselves up into the leaves. You feel a smile form on your face before you realize it, hand still fiddling with the stress toy absentmindedly.

🔪: When Dartois makes her way back to where you were sitting on the bench, you look much better than you did before she had left, and she looks much more ragged than she did before wandering away to explore the park. They take a seat beside you, and you ask them if they had a good time, your words causing their shoulders to fall as the tension they didn't know they were holding in is released from their body. You were talking again, and your eyes were no longer fogged with that indescribable look that caused their own body to feel uneasy. Without missing a beat, he asks if he did something to upset you, and you have to explain to him the way your mind responds whenever something reminds you of the past — of something that happened to you long before you two had ever met. He doesn't understand it, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that your brain decided to make your body and mind shut down as a means to keep you safe from itself, but he tries. He wants to try for you, especially if this is something that could happen again. He doesn't want to have to resort to simply sitting on the sidelines, watching helplessly as you disconnect from the world around you. With a smile, you take one of his hands in yours, rubbing a thumb across his knuckles, and Dartois wonders how you could be so kind. You thank him for the gifts, saying that the stress ball had helped ground you with its weight, and ask where he had gotten them. You weren't surprised when he said he simply found everything lying around unguarded, but all you could do was silently hope that no one had seen someone as… unique-looking as Dartious casually stealing fidget toys, flowers, and various snacks.

“You humans are so… strange. I cannot imagine having a mind that purposefully does something like that. What's the purpose? …To protect you? What is it protecting you from? I am aware that my current form doesn't seem particularly impressive by your standards, but I would be able to keep you safe from… Oh. Your brain does such a thing to protect your mind from itself? My, how incredibly frustrating that must be, and how terribly inefficient… I cannot help but be a bit curious about all of this now. I will be sure to ask around for more information on how to aid you during such a conundrum… You have my word that I will do better next time if this were to happen again, my dear human.” 

💪🏾: Elliott wasn’t a gentle person. If anything, he was the complete opposite — crude, cold, and sometimes cruel if he felt as though the barriers he had around his heart were starting to crumble because of your presence. Despite himself, however, he had been permitting you to be around him more than usual and for longer periods of time as of late. Sure, the two of you still butted heads, but it was almost routine now at this point, and he found himself enjoying every time he managed to annoy you. He liked the way your face contorted with thinly veiled irritation, or the way your brows twitched when he said something to rub you the wrong way (sometimes, he even managed to get that reaction without meaning to). You were both working together when it happened, random and unprecedented. You were packing up the circus equipment to get ready to hit the tracks and travel to the next city on the tour when someone said something to you. You couldn't remember who said it, or even what was said, but it was something that reminded you of them, and just like that, you were somewhere else mentally while your body just… moved on autopilot without any input from your consciousness. Walls were erected inside your brain to shut out the world, making everything around you seem almost fake as you kept repeating the same motions over and over — bend down, grab, stand, carry, load, walk back, bend down, grab, stand, carry, load, walk back… Meanwhile, Elliott was working on getting the heavier pieces of equipment packed into their designated train car, continuing to speak to you in an attempt to get you to snap at him like you usually did whenever he annoyed you too much. Though when you don't respond to him or even acknowledge his presence, he pauses, taking a short break from his duties to watch as you move about with robotic-like motions.

💪🏾: Well, that was strange. You hadn't given him the cold shoulder or the silent treatment for quite a while, so why all of a sudden did you go unresponsive? He didn't even think he said anything too out of the ordinary… nothing to get this type of reaction, at least. You were talking with him just fine before, making little jabs of your own, and now, you were completely silent. He continues to attempt to get you to respond to him, still in that teasing tone of his, but when you go about your tasks without a word, almost like he wasn't there, it starts rubbing him the wrong way. He knew it shouldn't bother him; you were a human he shouldn't have even been getting close to in the first place, but it was bothering him, and he didn't like that. So, he sets down what he was carrying and walks over to where you were working. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the train car before asking you to give him at least a hint on what he did to upset you so greatly. Another long stretch of silence has him letting out a deep sigh, and he walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and turning you around, forcing you to at least look at him while he speaks. However, when your eyes meet his, he realizes right then and there that something is… off. You didn't appear to be upset, and you didn't even seem fully coherent in the moment, eyes glazed over as you practically stared right through him. While he didn't know everything about you (he purposefully made sure he never did get a full grasp on you), he was also able to say with certainty he had never seen you in such a despondent state before. This was completely new, and he had no clue what to do.

💪🏾: No matter how many times he called out your name or attempted to shake you back to reality (even lightly tapping your face with his calloused fingertips), nothing seemed to be working. Something wasn't right, and he had a feeling that he needed to get you somewhere else ASAP. He remembers watching wild animals in the woods hunker down in brush whenever injured or ill to protect themselves as much as possible, so Elliott helps you do just that, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he leads you through the crowds of your coworkers attempting to pack up the remaining pieces of the circus, informing them that the two of you are taking a break. Your eyes absentmindedly watch the ground as you walk across it, trying to take in the sight of every small pebble or ant you can see and keep your mind from drifting back to those memories you found replaying in your brain like a broken record. You didn't know where Elliott was taking you, and you strangely didn't care. Then, after a few minutes of walking, the familiar scent of your personal wagon hit your nose. It was a comforting smell, but you don't have time to linger on that feeling before you suddenly go from standing up to lying down. Carefully, Elliott removes his arm from around your shoulder, pushing you down to lie on your bed with surprising gentleness. He stares at you for a moment, your eyes still hazy as you stare up at him, before he makes himself comfortable beside you with a sigh, one arm tucked behind his head while the other rests across his stomach. He didn't say anything — didn't find the need to, especially since you weren't going to respond anyway.

💪🏾: He stays there with you for quite a while. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, your mind clears, and you find yourself back in the present moment, memories of the past once again having returned to the back of your mind. When you sit up, he's immediately asking you what that was all about. Elliott isn't very considerate to begin with, so he's not going to give you any more respite time when he has questions that he feels should be answered. If you tell him what happened and what triggered it, he finds himself feeling a bit relieved it wasn't because of him (why does he feel that way?), but he also finds it a bit annoying. What do you mean you can't always know when it's going to happen? He has a stubborn streak, too, so he'll be adamant about the fact that he was going to find a way, somehow, to help lessen the dissociative and derealization symptoms you experience when an episode is triggered. Now, what he does after you're back to your somewhat regular self depends on your reaction/reponse, as well as your relationship. Either he'll roll his eyes at you before excusing himself with a dismissive handwave, or he'll stay there with you, still lying across your bed before holding up an arm as an invitation to you to come closer. He's able to recognize that what you experienced wasn't pleasant for you, and that, even after, you were still not feeling well mentally. He has a… soft spot, even if it's small, for creatures he sees as being vulnerable. There's a strange urge in his chest to protect you, even if it goes against everything he believes in and stands for, but he'll find himself there with you lying against his chest as he rubs your back, the two of you sitting in silence without any playful bickering or teasing for a change. It's strange for him, and he hates that a part of him enjoys being there for you.

💪🏾: Elliott is, I'd argue, a perfect example of someone who desperately tries to appear nonchalant but who, deep down, isn't as detached as he wants to be perceived to be. Now, he's in no way a jealous person, nor is he possessive of you, but that's not to say he never feels that way, which makes him differ a bit from Adelina. He doesn't care much about a lot of things, and while he tries to make it seem as though he doesn't care about you/your relationship with him, it's a front. He does (begrudgingly) care about you, and even if he won't say it aloud, he does enjoy spending time with you, but he's not going to get jealous over you talking or spending time with others. He also doesn't feel the need to keep you all to himself; he's lived alone most of his life, so if you're spending time with someone else, that just means he can have some much-needed decompression time. Now, while he normally avoids any type of affection or intimacy like the plague, if he feels as though you've become distant or started putting him on the back burner to spend more time with people who aren't him, Elliott is going to make his displeasure known in a very roundabout way, which is unlike him. He'll start by asking you about who you've been spending time with, what all you've been doing, and then randomly drop the direct question of why you've been ignoring him lately. Elliott does have a slightly inflated ego, so he doesn't exactly take too kindly to you ignoring him in favor of other people, especially if you were only doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him.

“Hey, long time no see. How was last night? Didja have a good time out? Yeah, yeah — that's nice. Quick question, but are ya doin' all this to purposefully try to get a rise outta me? …Why do I say that? Well, it seems like you've been throwin' me on the back burner lately, is all, and I didn't think I did anythin' recently to piss ya off… Whatcha mean it sounds like I'm jealous? Nah, I'm not — I just don't appreciate bein' seen as second best."

💬: Clementine falls perfectly in the middle of the cast, like they tend to do with most things (they're a living definition of being neutral/moderate). They experience sudden bursts of jealousy and possessiveness on occasion, like most people, and when these instances do happen, they usually become distant from you until those feelings fade. They primarily do this for your own safety, as their urge to consume/devour you can become quite intense during moments of jealousy and possessiveness (they really don't want to accidentally erase you from existence). They're one of the members of the main cast who is most experienced in dealing with these emotions, especially since they're the only one of their kin who has had multiple deep, emotional connections with humans (Clara and Seren being the two big examples). Clementine knows when they're starting to get jealous of other people when they suddenly have the urge to go over, grab you, and drag you away from the world so your attention is solely focused on them and your presence is theirs and theirs alone. They normally despise being the center of attention in intimate settings, but when they feel like they're being ignored by you, someone whom they hold in high regard and want to be vulnerable with, it becomes extremely difficult not to act on their instinct and keep you all to themselves. Because of their conflicting thoughts and emotions, Clemetine can teeter between being distant and clingy with you, and it's just kind of a toss-up on which version of them you're going to get. Now, if you purposefully try to do something to make them jealous, they will get upset with you, especially if you get another person (like Clara or Benedict) to help you, and you will get the silent treatment.

“I, umm… Do you want to go out and do something after tonight's show? With, uh, with me? …W-What's with that look? Come on, it can't be that weird — I just want to spend more time with you, and… No, I don't want them coming along. I just want it to be the two of us for a change... I guess I'm feeling a bit jealous, but I'd argue anyone would be in my position if someone they care about always wants other people to tag along on our outings...” 

🔪: Dartois feels jealous and possessive of you quite frequently, though they have a difficult time wrapping their head around it (those are very new emotions for them). He has an inflated sense of ego due to his "upbringing," so he can never quite understand why you would choose to spend time with anyone else when he's right there. They thought that they were all you needed, so what do you mean you want to spend time with someone else? She's able to recognize that certain behaviors get her the results she wants, so sometimes she will purposely act a certain way in an attempt to guilt you into staying with her or spending more time with her (they can be manipulative when they want to be). Now, if you take the time to explain to Dartois that they are enough and that you do appreciate them as a person/friend/partner, but that you can't solely rely on them or hang out with them every second of every day, they do (kind of) understand. He still might not be very happy about sharing your attention with others, but he does think of you incredibly highly, so it only makes sense to him that other people want to be in your presence as well. One way that Dartois copes with their intense feelings of jealousy and possessiveness is by making arrangements with you so that if you spend the day with your other friends or family members, they'll make sure that there is at least one day where it's just the two of you doing something together. This way, they can have you all to themselves while still allowing you to be around and nurture relationships with others. So, even if they're not thrilled about sharing your attention, they do care about you and never want to do anything to make you feel distressed or lonely.

“Where are you off to? …Ah, you're hanging out with them again? I was hoping we could spend some more time together this evening. I even made arrangements — aren't you proud of me? I can't blame everyone for wanting to be near you; you're the most godly human I've had the pleasure of meeting, but… Well, before you go, would you be able to grant me a self-indulgent wish? I would like to have your full, undivided attention tomorrow… Hehe, thank you for spoiling me, my dear human.” 

🤡: Benedict is hands-down the most jealous of the cast, but it's not a trait he is proud of having. He doesn't enjoy experiencing jealousy, nor does he necessarily want to keep you all to himself, but he does feel a bit insecure sometimes, especially if you're not spending a lot of time with him compared to other people. You're the only human who knows exactly what they are, and yet you still choose to stick around and care for them despite that. You're special to him, and he can't lose you, so he tends to do things to keep your attention and affection solely directed to him. Benedict has always craved closeness with others — with humanity as a whole — but he always knew that he would never be accepted for what he was… and then you came along and did just that. He knows jealousy is an ugly thing, and he does his best not to let it affect him or your relationship with him. Most of the time, when he's jealous, you won't even know. They keep it to themselves, and the only way you could tell is that they may be a bit more clingy or might even be a bit more demanding of your attention. He'll never make you stop hanging out with people you care about, but he might insert himself in situations or conversations where he wasn't expected or invited to be a part of. They'll find ways to show you how great they are to have around by making you your favorite foods or doing anything and everything they can to make you smile and laugh; if they're useful to have around, maybe you'll be more likely to spend time with them. Benedict definitely needs the most reassurance, especially by explaining to him that he doesn't have to do anything for you to stay.