“Mind the table. There’s things on there you shouldn’t touch.”

(txt) Is tomorrow good?

(txt) I’ve got tae go shoppin on the surface.

(txt: unsent) Dae ye want tae come with?

Meme

Pup snored a little bit when he felt something cuddle up against him and he sleepily opened his eye sockets to see the human right next to him before he lets out a loud yawn.

* He hadn’t even put his phone down after the messages. The sound of his IMs going off had woken him up, actually. He’d quickly skimmed over them twice, because it hurt to read them. He’d been at the point where he was trying to rationalize his emotions, maybe prevent the outburst.

*He said nothing at first, listening to the voice that suddenly felt very unreal. Some paranoid thoughts sprouted first ‘You kill everything you love’, ‘Everyone you love will die’, ‘You’re a curse’ etc. He was able to dismiss those at first, to try and focus on the phone because it was more important to actually get to the hospital.

“I’m…I..on..I’m coming.”

*He stuttered the words and couldn’t remember it a second. Pump her stomach? Dear god, what did she do?! He pretended to ask himself that question, but deep down he knew exactly what she did. The question was why.

*Maybe because she was drunk. She was drunk enough to go out and marry some stranger she met on the internet, right? Might as well have been drunk enough to kill herself. Maybe she did it because she was scared of his reaction. Of course, that was probably it. Because, hell, everyone knows he’s a psycho. Everyone knows.

*He slammed his fist against the door, not realizing how he’d even made it out into the hallway. He was stumbling, still in pyjamas with a leather jacket draped on. Narcissus was staring at him from the kitchen doorway, teacup in hand.

*The first tears begun to fall when he realized that, even if Charlotte woudn’t die now, she eventually would. Hell she’d kept drinking even though he supposedly was here to talk when she wasn’t feeling well. Obviously, his voice wasn’t enough -and it would never be. He’d thought, maybe, they could go on with their lives but now Charlotte wanted to die and he didn’t know how to cope. And hell, he’d make it about himself again. Didn’t he always?

*The next slam was against something softer. He felt warm vines crawling up his waist and on his arm. In his fist, Narcissus’ throat writhed. Something pushed him. Narcissus was trying to catch his breath. Crimson witnessed his own skin shizzling suddenly, but it took a while for him to realize that Steel had thrown a fistful of salt to set the plant man loose of his touch.

The blue-haired teen wasn’t sure what he was supposed to get for his boyfriend. Why did he walk into the store and insist on not writing down what he was going to get when he knew that he would probably forget? Was it... a candy bar? He didn’t know, but at least he wanted one.