#sunputer

Tim was your childhood sweetheart. You don’t even remember him entering your life, he’s just kinda always been there.

He’s been there for everything. All the horrors you’ve gone through, most of which you don’t even remember, and all the loss and despair, through everyone and everything that had slipped through your fingers.

You had lost everything but him. Your family, your friends, your belongings and even your memories were all gone. Yet he remained.

And he could say the same for you. Even when he disappeared for weeks without a trace, or got in fights at school, no matter how distant or how clingy he has been- you were always right there, right where he’d left you.

Right now, though, Tim is missing again. Probably on another mission or something. But this time, it’s different. Too long. It’s been a month now, and he still isn’t back. Maybe something happened?

Four months. Oh God, not again. Not you. You scratch at your arms, lying awake for the 72nd night in a row. At some point, you are genuinely going to go insane.

At five months, the world ceases to exist. You don’t even get out of bed anymore unless you absolutely do not have a choice.

Six months in when he visits again. It’s nice, really nice. Emotional, even. But you know better than to get your hopes up. You’re smarter than that. The light in your eyes dull the minute he’s gone again. Still, you try to keep it together.

At seven months, you end up getting a job at some fast food restaurant. You actually don’t hate it, it gets you out of the house and keeps you from bedrotting! Thats always good, right?

Life is still empty. So, so, very empty. Many people have tried, but none of them will ever come close to filling that specifically shaped void.

You try not to think about him, to forget what he means to you in the first place. You should’ve known, should’ve predicted this. Of course he was never going to stay, nothing has. You’ve been through this scenario before and you will survive once again. You don’t need anyone anyways.

Yet still, everything seems to remind you.

By the eight month, big things are happening. You’re different now. Better. You’ve realized so many life-changing things, things you cannot even put into words. But you’re healing.

You know what you want out of life, now. You don’t have to serve for a living. You don’t have to be tied down to one position, working for some random fucking guy that stole what was already given to you by the earth and told you it was never yours at all.

You’re no longer convinced that this life is remotely normal, being indoors all the time and working 9-5 shifts while the upper class deliberately isolates you from each other. You’re fed up with being fed a lie that we are above animals, above nature, to the point we’ve removed ourselves from our humanity and FULLY BELIEVE THIS IS THE WAY IT WORKS.

And you’re angry. And you know exactly what you’re going to do about it. Unfortunately for you, the love of your life is on the enemy’s side. as much as you adore him, he’s still a billionaire CEO that works for the police. That makes things incredibly complicated.

As of now, you’re scribbling in your notebook at the front desk. It’s beyond slow, and you’re by yourself. So you doodle and write about your plan, how you’re going to rally the community and burn everything to the ground. How you’ll start off living in a bus, not paying rent or licking a strangers boot. You’ll pay for it with your art, alongside a plethora of “side gigs”.

And you’ll travel the world, collecting an army of likeminded people. And you’ll work together to not only overthrow the government, but get rid of it altogether. For we are not supposed to be controlled by other people the way that we are. What you call “communism” is quite simply just human nature, the way we STARTED OUT. The way it’s SUPPOSED TO BE. THE WAY WE ARE INTRINSICALLY DESIGNED!!!

Your thoughts are interrupted by the silhouette of a man approaching the door in your peripherals. Once you look up though, he’s already made his way to the back. Weird, but maybe he’s ordering online. Whatever, back to getting woker.

The guy’s order pops up on the preparation screen, and it isn’t long before it’s put together. Since it’s so empty, you are tasked with running the tray to its designated table. For a moment, as you approach, you think it’s Tim somehow. You shrug it off though, dismissing yourself for being a hungry man thinking of bread.

So it really shouldn’t surprise you when you place the tray on the table and look up to see the Devil Himself. Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne. That motherfucker.

“Hey, you! Did ya miss me~?”

He teases, stupid ass smirk on his stupid ass face. His arm is draped over the booth seats, legs crossed in front of him. The mask drops at your lack of enthusiasm. Or… anything at all.

“Heh, you uh.. you look kinda traumatized. Are you.. ok..?”

You don’t notice his eyebrows furrowing slightly, the underlying tremble of his voice, or the way he leans into you. You don’t even hear him talk at all.

“…Timothy….”

Your voice comes out quite odd. It’s uncertain, hollow. Like you don’t believe what you’re seeing is real, or like you’re just in a flashback.

You only snap out of it when he stands all the way up and puts his hands on your shoulders, staring you down intensely. His worried investigations are foggy to you, the reality of it all still settling in.

“…Tim..?!”

“Yes, yes that’s me! It’s Tim! Hey, hey hey hey look at me. Look at me!”

His hands cradle your face, pulling you gently towards him. He presses his forehead against yours, biting his cheek to keep himself together.

“…Tim…!”

You wrap your arms around him tightly, burying your face in his neck. He beats you to it by a margin, the two of you squeezing each other at the back of a Culver’s.

“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much and I’m so, so sorry. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

“What..?”

He sits you down in front of him, holding your hands across the table.”

“I quit. I don’t work for my dad anymore. I don’t even have to, I have more money than I can ever spend in a hundred thousand lifetimes.”

Oh. Right. Billionaire. The enemy is always closer than you think.

“..Oh…. So… what now, then…? You’re… actually not leaving again? Where are you going to stay, what are you going to do??”

He just shrugged. His livelihood in question and all he does in response is shrug.

“Tim… Ugh. I have to get back to work. I’m off in 2 hours, I’ll.. see you then. If you’re good to your word.”

As you walk away, he watches you like a puppy getting abandoned by his owner in the rain. You don’t even look back. So, he sighs, and opens his laptop to a google doc titled ‘My plan to finally settle down with the loml and make them mine’.

ykw fuck you guys (/nsrs) you get a cliffhanger. i’ve been cooking this too long it’s gonna burn if i do it all in one piece (one piece you say?)