#ficworm

“WELP!”

He runs to the ghost child. Gathering him in his arms.

“You’re alright Welp. Skulker got ya.”

Maddie shakes off her shock. She aims again, but this time at the giant, adult ghost.

Weapons automatically come out of the mech suit of Skulker, aiming at the only enemy for miles. “One shot by the greatest hunter in the Realms. That’s all it takes.” He fires.

In the dust of the shot on the ground by Maddie’s feet, Skulker takes Danny’s semi-conscious ghost form and bolts for the portal. Going to the best ghost doctor in the Realms, Frostbite the Yeti.

“Hold on Welp. Stay bright, Danny. Skulker has you now.”

But I always mean it a different way whenever I say it.

Sometimes I love you like the morning. Like a sunrise. And that's why I can love you morning after morning after morning. You'd think I'd get tired of the same sunrise over and over again. But every sunrise is different. The world is always moving and shifting, and after a month or two the differences become more noticeable. It's something I'm learning to be more sensitive to.

Sometimes I love you like the heat of noon. Sometimes like its scorching heat, and sometimes like its sleepy heat. Yeah, I don't always love you like the majestic morning. Sometimes I just love you, like such a random time of day. Maybe I remember something you said. Or maybe I get a text from you when you go grab a midnight snack. "Little things," you might think, "...far too little for love." But little things pepper our love with nuance. I love you in plenty of simple ways, ficworm. But subtly different each time, I promise.

I love you like the evening too, sometimes. Sometimes I love you to fall asleep, because my imperfections won't let me. Sometimes I love you like I'm afraid to lose you in all the darkness. But other times... I love you, like the sweet dreams to a good night. Sometimes I love you like my favorite meteor shower. You might expect meteor showers to be rare, but they happen more often than you think. That might surprise you if you're imagining meteors falling like some dramatic rain of light against the night sky. But no. It's subtler than that. Each meteor is hard to spot, so each one makes me feel so lucky. And it feels like a miracle when two fall at the same time. So even after seeing my favorite meteor shower once, twice, thrice? I wouldn't mind watching it again. Because you see... it's never the same shooting stars. It can't possibly be.

You got a lock on the things I want

I'm a lost, lonely one here who's addicted to holding on

I don't have you to kiss now and I'm putting myself to sleep

I pick a timestamp from the past and you'll get back to me, you say. We're the highlight of each other's day. I feel it. I see it in the pictures you send me—pictures you'd never send anyone else.

I scroll.

And suddenly, we're talking about dogs and guinea pigs and just about anything. It feels like our messages would never run out.

I scroll.

The timestamps change and you love me.

I scroll, hard.

The timestamps change and you miss me.

I could scroll forever.

The timestamps change and I'm at the end. I don't realize it right away. I'm so used to scrolling, used to pulling the conversation upwards. It doesn't matter if the conversation stretches under my force, and the interface snaps it back into place, back into stasis, throwing your absence back to my face.

I scroll mindlessly, as if there's something beyond the end.

Because maybe if I keep scrolling, there'll be... something. Newer timestamps. Replies you have yet to send. Anything.

And so I scroll.

We had to let go of each other because we didn't wanna drown each other in our own sorrows. I really did come to the right conclusion before: I need some time to deal with my issues before I should even think about entering a relationship.