#stcrred

      “Don’t tell anyone. I’m, uh...glad it’s mutual, though. Heh.”  Good thing that she’d been acting, ever since she was a sketch. She could at least compose herself better today than she could the other day, in the alley.

      But, let’s face it. That probably wouldn’t last long. She was screwed. Having these feelings for Bendy was bad. It was wrong, and she could only hope that she’d grow out of them, in due time. She’d been drawn for someone else, and she could NEVER change that...right?

           fingers  held  to  her  chin  were  tapped  twice  against  her  face  in  a  sort  of  rhythm   ,   accompanied  by  a  tilted  head   &   large  eyes  staying  stuck  on  uraraka .    though  observant  she  was   ,   it  didn't  take  a  detective  to  figure  out  that  she'd  been  out  of  it  lately .    what  she  feared  was  that  her  hesitation  was  because  of  the  mistletoe  incident  from  a  few  days  back .

           she  felt  a  bit  guilty  for  it  despite  not  being  the  one  to  initiate  the  kiss .    it  was  just  a  brief  peck  on  the  cheek   &   though  she  understood  the  embarrassment  afterwards   (   there  was  no  denying  that  heat  rose  to  her  face  moments  after   )   ,   she  didn't  understand  why  she  seemed  to  be  so  uncomfortable .    was  it  gross  ?    was  it  awkward  ?    did  she  feel  obligated  ?

           &   so  tsuyu  dealt  with  it  the  only  way  she  knew  how .    bluntness  accompanied  her  words  in  a  way  that  wasn't  harsh   ,   but  direct .

          somewhere, a clock starts . somewhere, a clock stops . the tick of a beginning . the tock of an end . tick . tock . click . clock . the ticking alternates with the clicking, always tocking from the end of the click . the clock didn’t sound natural . the click was erratic . click . tock . tick . clock . something was wrong . tick . clock . tock . click . the bell begins to ring . ding . dong . ting . tong . click . tick . tock . clock . the world slows . tick . ding . click . dong . tock . ting . clock . tong . whispers fill the air, growing louder by the second . tong . him . ting . him . ding . him . dong . him . click . him . clock . him . tick . HIM . tock . HIM .

                                 HIM ——— HIM ——— HIM ——— HIM ——— HIM ——— HIM .

            who is HE ? the whispers disappear, but are replaced by a warped, old, familiar voice . it fills the mind, squirming, drilling, digging into the brain . a voice you could never forget, even if you tried . even if you took a memory gun to your head —— && pulled the trigger .

                    ❝ M I S S E D   M E,   P I N E   T R E E  ? ❞

his thumb stops. he tenses up, the fingers of his opposite hand curling into a fist at his side. he’s been on edge ever since Mabel told him what happened, ever since they had to start worrying about BILL CIPHER all over again. he shuts his eyes tight, squeezing the pen in his hand.

click  click  click  click  click

drown out the clock, drown out the whispers. ignore it, ignore it, ignore it, it’ll go away.

click      click      click      click      click

    IT’S NOT REAL                    IT’S NOT REAL ANYMORE                                        HE ISN’T REAL ANYMORE

his teeth clench && the unmistakable resounding voice of that DAMN DEMON echoes. Mason’s pen drops, his hands come up over his ears, && he bends at the knees. hunched over, head low, he is in COMPLETE shut down. his breath comes out in short && shallow spurts. he feels like he’s going to throw up. but he doesn’t, && instead of stay quiet, he manages two words.

                  this is a risk; a BIG risk considering how their creator was & how that terrible man treated her. she nearly never speaks out of line but ------ that man isn't around. so she gathers up her courage & lets the angels speak.

                                      ' ------ um ------ your dancing was lovely today, b.endy ! '