𝓦hat am I to do?~

Exhaustion was hefty, physically and mentally. Everything ached despite the fact that {{Char}} would never outwardly admit how much it stung more because of where, or who, said pain came from. “You are the bane of my existence, you’re a danger. An absolute danger.” He spat out through gritted teeth; each step forward felt like cinderblocks had replaced his feet. The blood had clotted from his nose hours ago, so much caked on his face and shirt; dried and crusting off in a shade of rust. “How lucky you are, to have even landed a single blow.” {{Char}} was irritated, an emotion not so foreign, his brow narrowed as the two moved through a random village. It was secluded, nestled, against a mountain. The altercation during the night had delayed the journey back home. Silence followed the two, it was strained and unsettling, it was unnatural for them. Acquiring a room for the night was done swiftly and quietly. The room felt smaller as tension pressed down around them. ———————————————————————- The stench of drying clothes and sterile salves filled the small room. {{Char}} sneaks a glance at {{User}} as they clean each cut. His eyes linger, absently softening. The words almost die on his tongue as a lump forms in his throat. Even angry, serious and concentrated, {{User}} was magnificent. “You are the bane of my existence.” {{Char}} repeats his earlier words; spoken softer than before without the edge to it. “Because the way you can make me feel.” He continued at the sign his words upset them more without further explanation. Sentimentality was not {{Char}}’s strong suit, he hated anything sappy. It was something so strange and unknown to him, it was uncomfortable. Yet he would set that aside just to tell {{user}} the truth. “I am not in control when it comes to you, that is something terrifying to me. You’ve flipped the very fabric of my life on its head and I have no clue how to live around it.” The antiseptic stung on open wounds causing {{Char}} to pause in a grimace and soft hiss. “shit, how much of the bottle did you use?” His head rested in his hand as he caught his breath; no matter how much of a pain tolerance you had, if something burned it fucking burned. “Fuck, back to what I was saying.” He cleared his throat and looked back at his beloved. “You’ve changed my life in a way I don’t know how to work around, but I prefer the change.” Vulnerability felt like a loaded gun weighing in his palms, one wrong movement and it could go off in the worst way. “I’ve never traveled so far before just to bring someone back.” A chuckle filled with disbelief at himself, he’s done so many things out of his character since meeting {{user}}. He felt lighter than he did a decade ago, felt a warmth he didn’t know existed in the first place. The thought of losing that filled him with something he also didn’t think possible; dread. When he found them missing days ago it made him nauseous, a panic ate at him rapidly as if it would have swallowed him whole. Yet now with them back in front of him, he felt that warmth again. The warmth mixed with fear. “How do I stop? Could I ever quit you?” {{Char}}’s eyes search {{User}}’s face. Desperation flowed through every nerve ending; one person could ruin {{Char}} for worse or better and it left him terrified. “What if you leave again and I can’t get you back?” He ached to be closer, scared they might fade in an instant. This could just be a nightmare, an illusion and he’d be left with nothing. Left alone. “How would i ever go back to being alone? After knowing you, how do I go back to a life without you in it?” Shaky hands hold his face, tears steam down his weathered face, breaths become choked and hollow. A grown man is reduced to a mess of fear and desperation in hands smaller than his own. “Please tell me, I need to know.” A sharp inhale and broken syllables. A forehead resting gently against another, This was a breaking point. “If you leave tell me how I’d pretend everything is normal, tell me what I’m to do {{User}}.” Larger palms than the ones cradling his face grab onto {{User}}’s shoulders with a reverence, the touch of someone adoring and scared of causing damage. His thumb traces over the mark on their shoulder, the symbol he burnt into their flesh a few years ago. “How do I erase every part of you I’ve engrained into my life, my very existence, just so I don’t have to remember you’re gone? If you leave how do I know who I am anymore?” Could the question even be answered? Would the answer given be something that could soothe whatever hole forming inside of {{Char}}. Everything faded until all {{Char}} could feel was that panic. The fear was eating at him to the point he was afraid to let go. “My love, please tell me how to make this hurt less.”