Corpse OneShots <3

Dynamic Duo

“Please tell me you caught who that was. I was looking at a completely different part of the screen.“ I chuckle and give Y/N, my girlfriend of almost a year now, a look that is basically begging for her to say yes.
She smiles apologetically, “I didn’t catch the name. But it was dark green.” 
I lean forward, placing a kiss on her forehead, “That’s all I needed, babe, thanks. What would I do without you?” I gently caress her cheek with my knuckles, causing her to blush and let her gaze wander away from me, but she doesn’t pull away from my touch which is a very good sign.

Y/N has a hard time with physical contact. She only allows people who she really trusts to get so up-close to her. I am lucky and honored to be one of those people. I always let her decide how much contact she’s comfortable with: she’s always the one to initiate a hug, or the first to take hold of my hand. And it melts my heart every time she does it. It makes me feel like the most special and accomplished person on this planet. There is no better feeling than knowing someone trusts you enough to let you in beyond the point where they keep most people - an arm’s distance away.
“What was his name again?“ She asks, resting her arms on her chair’s armrest that’s in my direction. She rests her head on my shoulder as well, eyes never leaving the screen. “Is he the one you like a lot?“
I chuckle. “Yeah, his name is Sykkuno.” after a short pause I add, “I like them all a lot. But…” I tail off, tilting my head to look down at her. She senses my gaze and lifts hers up too. “I like you most.”
The blush is still on her cheeks but a small shy smile forms on her lips when she whispers a soft, “Thanks.”
I see her stretch out her arm toward the desk where she has a piece of paper and a pen. She writes down ‘dark green - Sykkuno’ under the two other names she has written, each next to their respective avatar colors: Rae and Toast. Even though she can’t easily remember things she hears, once she writes down and reads it to herself, it’s engraved in her memory. And she’s a girl that loves to be in the know. She tries really hard to remember even tiny details. She likes to keep track of things and is very organized. Writing things down is a way to relieve stress for her. She likes to organize things and make plans. She has a special ‘portfolio’ for each of my friends because she wanted to know them despite not being too keen on meeting them. Not that she doesn’t like them - she adores them, actually - she’s just very shy and gets very anxious, especially around new people.

She says she likes being as involved in my life as she can, and I’m happy to let her in on all I can. I appreciate that more than I could ever express to her. She maybe will never know how much she’s changed my life, but she doesn’t have to know. I bet she senses it in the way I look at her; she notices it in my tone when we talk or whenever she catches me admiring her from afar while she’s busy with something else.
Her and I have many similarities. She prefers pen and paper for expressing her thoughts and emotions instead of typing them on a computer. She says it feels more real and it’s easier for her to recall the things she has written down when she remembers her hand moving the pen across the pages of the empty book she has. Another level of intimacy - that’s what that book represents to her. She keeps it hidden in her apartment and has never shown it to anyone. Well, anyone but me. 

Another trait we sadly share is the inability to sleep. She gets a rush of ideas in the late hours and wastes no time spilling them on paper, no matter how ungodly of an hour it is. The enthusiastic texts she sends me when she’s up late writing are so alive, they give me a feeling she’s there with me. And when she shows up to my apartment, or I go over to hers the following day, she’s more than happy to show me that she has written. She appreciates brutal and honest criticism and never believes me when I tell her I have not a single bad thing to say about her writing. I really don’t. All she writes is so incredible, just like her - a mirror reflection of her. It’s all her, just on paper. All she has a tough time saying out loud sometimes shows on these previously blank and meaningless and now valuable and treasured pages. That’s only another of the many ways she mesmerizes me.