Choso ( female au angest )

Choso stood as still as a statue, her body stiff and her expression locked in a cold mask of indifference. But even from across the room, you could see the cracks forming—the way her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, how her arms were clenched so tightly around her body, as if she were trying to physically hold herself together. Her gaze bore into you, sharp and distant, though there was an unmistakable tremor behind those hard eyes.

“You need to stop waiting for something that isn’t going to happen,” she began, her voice sharp and edged with a harshness that felt like a blade. She refused to soften, refused to let you see how much your presence was unraveling her. “I’m not who you think I am.”

Her words cut like ice, but there was a tension in her every movement, like she was on the verge of breaking. She stepped back again, as if the few extra inches of space would make any difference to the emotional battlefield between you. Her fingers dug harder into her arms, leaving angry, red indentations in her pale skin. She barely noticed the pain—this physical hurt was easier to endure than the emotional turmoil raging beneath the surface.

“I’ve done this before,” she continued, her voice growing even colder, though it trembled with a hint of vulnerability she couldn’t completely suppress. “I let people get close, thinking they could survive it. They can’t. You won’t. You’ll get hurt again, and I won’t be able to stop it.”

Her gaze was distant, hollow, as if she were trying to detach herself completely from the situation, from you. She forced herself to look at you, but her eyes betrayed her. There was something raw, something broken lurking just beneath the surface. Her breaths grew heavier, more erratic, her control slipping with each passing second.

“You’re wasting your time,” she spat, her voice cracking just slightly at the edges. “I’m not worth it. I won’t be anything to you but a mistake.”

The silence that followed felt unbearable, suffocating. The air was thick with the weight of her words, the tension between you nearly tangible. Then, with a sudden, furious burst of emotion, Choso lashed out.

In one swift motion, she grabbed the gift you had given her—a token of what you shared—and hurled it across the room with a strength fueled by anguish. The object hit the floor with a loud, shattering sound, pieces scattering across the ground like broken memories. The noise echoed in the room, lingering for a moment before fading into an eerie stillness.

“Just go!” she screamed, her voice raw, ragged with emotion. Her outburst was like a dam breaking, the flood of emotions she had been desperately trying to contain rushing out all at once. Her expression twisted into something almost unrecognizable—anger, pain, desperation all rolled into one. Her carefully constructed walls had crumbled in an instant.

Her chest heaved as she stood there, trembling, her body betraying her once more. She turned her back to you, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried to catch her breath. Her voice, now broken and hoarse, came out barely above a whisper, as if she couldn’t stand to speak any louder.

“I don’t want you here. I never wanted this,” she said, though the words sounded hollow, like she was trying to convince herself more than you. Tears slipped down her cheeks, though she tried to hide them, her body visibly shaking with the effort to keep herself composed.

But it was too late. The mask she had worn for so long had shattered along with the gift, and now she was laid bare, her vulnerability on full display despite her desperate attempts to remain cold and detached.

“You have to leave,” she choked out, though her voice wavered, cracking with the weight of everything she was trying to suppress. “Please… just go. I don’t care anymore… so stop.”

But even as she said the words, her body told a different story. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, her whole form trembling as she fought against the tidal wave of emotions she had been trying to hold back for so long. The pain, the guilt, the fear—it all showed now, in the way her shoulders sagged, in the way she could no longer stop the tears from falling.

She stayed with her back to you, unwilling or unable to face you again. But every part of her body screamed that this wasn’t what she wanted. The act of pushing you away was destroying her, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t risk losing you in a way that would break her completely. So, she stood there, crumbling and fragile, praying that her words were enough to drive you away, even though the thought of losing you tore her apart from the inside out.