● Act Nineteen - Can we just talk? ●

178 9 20
                                    

ATTENTION.

TW: Sligh mentions toxic relationships.

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The day they break into prison arrives. It was an exhaustive week. Everyone was busy planning and replanning their steps. I choose to stay in my room and in the cargo area, a bit isolated from the rest, to avoid Karl. I have conflicted feelings towards him.

Yes, I know I will have to face them eventually, but eventually equals not now, so things can wait, ok?

Let me make a resume so you can catch up on all that is about to occur.

Slime was sent yesterday, in an emergency cocoon, to the prison. He is taking the shape of one of the guards, getting rid of said guard and arranging uniforms so the rest of our crew can infiltrate and rescue George's toy boy and his friend today.

Now I'm just chilling in my room, listening to whatever music the radio station is playing today. Praying so that no one will interrupt my peace.

By no one, I do mean Karl. Since we are the only ones who have the privilege to not worry about dying in the next 24 hours.

Quackity, are you inside? May I come in?

Oh, fuck off.

- Yeah, sure, just let me get things tidy before.

I do not move a muscle. Said that just so I could try and grow some balls in the meantime.

- Come in.

The man appeared nervous, hands rubbing each other incessantly. He clears his throat before speaking.

- I want to ask you something.

Oh man, this never leads to anything good.

- Sure.

- Have I done anything wrong? I -

Karl takes a deep breath, you could see some tears forming in the corner of his eyes, but none actually running down.

- I know that sometimes there were certain things I may have done and said that could be interpreted as too forward for some. But I just did them because I really, really like you and just wanted to make you see how important you are to me, but if you want me to stop, I will, but it is just that I have never liked someone as I like you -

He is not going to stop until I say something, is he?

- As a matter of fact, I have never even liked someone romantically. But I sure as hell do fancy you in a romantically way. You are so handsome, funny and genuine. Full of energy and passionate about things. And you might try to argue back, saying there is no way I know everything about you and that all those conclusions are wrong because we have only met each other for one month -

Maybe the key is an action, not talking.

- But I do, in fact, know all of those things, from the deepest parts of my heart, because you see, people from Kinoko are the originals empaths, so I can for sure know at least a few points about everyone insides, not like their guts but more like how they are outside the eye of public and -

Not thinking entirely straight, I pull Karl by his shirt, smashing ou lips briefly. My hands brutally let go of the fabric, hoping to have more than a one-sided conversation this time. But the royal has other plans.

I can still feel his breath in synch with mine when he reconnects us once again. Mouths crashing as his trembling palm caresses my cheek, the other rest itself on my waist, not pressing it too hard. Almost as if he was afraid of doing anything that might ruin the moment.

Finding some of the courage I was preparing myself to have earlier, my hands tangle themselves on his curly hair as I find myself craving more and more for his taste.

Blueberry flavoured.

Nice.

People try to explain first kisses with their beloved as butterflies or fireworks. But for me, it felt as if I had a racing car competition going on my stomach, full of adrenaline and anxiety in the most exciting way possible.

Before any of us had the opportunity to deepen the kiss, I take space back. Facing two puppy eyes staring back at me.

- We need to talk, Karl.

- Do we, though?

He tries to unite our bodies again. I stop him and politely ask for him to take a seat on my bed.

My heart beats faster than ever.

- In my perspective, understanding all these emotions inside myself is the main path to having a healthy start to a relationship with you. Even if in the end we end up just as friends. You see, what is happening inside this mind of mine is confusing, to say at least, to explain.

- I'm patient.

I smile sympathetically. Is a good feeling, you know? To find someone willing to at least try.

- I have had my share of boyfriends in life. None of them treated me the way I know I'm supposed to be treated, with respect, love and a bit of compression. The same way anyone would expect when being a part of a loving relationship. Instead, I was subjected to a time of exposure, nothing more than a prize, a doll even.

I say while walking from one end of the room to the other.

- Especially after entering the sex industry, they all think you have more libido or some weird fetish just because you find yourself in a more uncommon job than other people. Because in the end is just a fucking job. No magic happens.

Stopping myself, I look at him. Holding back tears.

- Do you understand now? That no matter how much of a fancy man you are, how butterflies take place in my stomach every time I see you down the hall, how hot that elevator scene might have been, or how romantic is that afterwards you send me notes under my door almost every four hours telling how funny and pretty you think I am.

Karl stands up and hugs me tight, my chin rest on his shoulders while my voice fails to finish what needs to be said.

- None of those things matters because I have this infuriating horror living in me that does not allow me to reciprocate all of that in the same intensity as you do. Because shit Karl, I do like you, but I also fear so much what we can become.




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Communication is the key to a relationship. Never forget.

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