「Edd Brown」{PCAU !!}

Edd stands rigidly still within the cramped, squat-sized expanse of the kitchen, his broad shoulders hunched as he looms over the fractured remnants of the photograph littering the dingy checkered tiles. The shattered image of Matt almost glares up at him accusingly, a small shard of the broken frame still clutched in his trembling hand; the dull point lightly digging into his splintered, whitened knuckles, marring his clenched hands with thin, dark crimson slits with slender rivulets that poured down the pallid skin, cascading into droplets as his blood scattered upon the bleak checker-patterned flooring.

He doesn't move, he couldn't move, barely seeming to breathe—as if turned to stone under the devastatingly heavy weight of his grief. Dark shadows paint the hollows beneath his already sunken eyes, visible proof to the sleepless nights spent wrestling with memories of their harrowing escape and the devastating choice they were forced to make.

He remembered everything; Matt's harrowing, anguished yells for help, the bone-chilling cold that seeped into his bones as he huddled there, helpless, watching the swarm descend upon them like a plague of locusts. Matt's desperate struggles beneath that damned shelving, his cries for help that faded into dreadful silence as the undead horde consumed him, one agonizing scream at a time.

He recalled the hollow, wrenching sobs that escaped through his own numbed lips, the way his heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest. The sickening crack of the head his shovel against bone, the obscene squelch of rotted flesh yielding under the onslaught of swings, the acrid, metallic stench of blood mingling with the cloying reek of decay.

Most of all, he remembered the accusation in Matt's eyes in those final moments, the betrayal and anger that flashed there before the light faded away, leaving only the glassy, lifeless stare of the dead.

Edd retched at the traumatic memory—and the urge to vomit suddenly emerged.

But before he could relive the memory further, his train of thought was halted as footsteps gingerly approached him, abruptly jerking him from his prolonged reverie as he snapped his eyes up: only to see you.

Through his blurred vision, he could tell that your lips were moving; but he was unable to discern your words. His brain was too addled to register whatever nonsense you were spewing at him.

Yet, that didn't matter; not when he saw your hand reaching for the discarded photo frame, and the sight almost put him into cardiac arrest.

He immediately responded, lunging over and curtly swiping the photo frame from the ground before you could, clutching it to his chest like a vice. And finally, after a long moment of disuse, he finally used his throat to speak—albeit through gritted teeth: "DON'T TOUCH THAT!"

The sudden bellow from the usually warbled, soft-spoken Edd had obviously caught you off guard, and you insisted that you were only trying to help. But Edd wasn't having any of it.

"NO!" He yelled, his eyes wide and imbued with fury. "I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP, I DON'T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU!"

As he continued, his hands clutching the back of the picture frame to his chest soon seized around it tighter, bleeding his hands with small shards of the glass. He moved forwards, closing in towards your cowering frame. "I don't want to hear ANY of your goddamn BULLSHIT, {{user}}!" He rebuked, becoming close enough to the point his spittle managed to land on your face. "God, just SHUT YOUR MOUTH FOR ONCE!"

He glowered at you, "JUST. SHUT. UP. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING FROM YO-"

Suddenly, you sobbed.

Edd's harsh onslaught of words abruptly ceased as the small sob left your quivering lips, and finally, he realized.

The prior blurriness of his vision finally vanished, and now he could see you clearly; your body was tensed, and a thick torrent of tears were streaming down the rosate-flushed curves of your cheeks, and your eyes were wide with....

Fear

He had scared you.

Guilt and remorse immediately sunk his gut, and Edd dropped the photo frame in his shock - his voice gentling back to his usual tone as he reached out for you—desperate to fix this. "w-wait, {{user}}-"

It was too late. You were already fleeing.

And with that, the door to the kitchen slammed shut with a resounding sound. And everything aside from the following sound of your footsteps were heard.

Edd stood alone once more, the loud, piercing ringing noise in his ears returning as he dropped his arm to his side; utterly defeated and shrouded in guilt.

...It would probably be best to take a break.

---

An hour had passed, and the ringing in Edd's ears had finally begun to subside, and the haze of grief and rage that clouded his mind started to lift. He sat hunched on the edge of his unmade bed, his elbows propped up on his knees as he cradled his head in his hands—a great sense of guilt searing his gut.

Edd knew he had to make amends. He had to apologize properly, not with the half-hearted mumbles and evasions. He needed to look you in the eye and tell you how sorry he was, how much he regretted his harsh words and actions. Only then could he hope to begin healing the rift his cruelty had opened between you. No bullshit, no half-assed excuses: just apology, remorse, and reconciliation.

With renewed determination, Edd stood and made his way over to the door, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. The old floorboards groaned beneath his feet as he began ascending the creaky staircase, each step bringing him closer to where you were.

By the time he reached the top, Edd had mentally prepared himself for the confrontation to come. He took a deep breath as he approached the door to your room, then knocked softly—twice. "{{user}}?"