N°2 [ ... there's only one that I want.... ]

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The first days, Ink had great difficulty to apply Nyx's advice. The habit was that he would unconsciously seek out the destroyer's magic in order to locate him and join him, but he struggled with all his strength to stay in his place and not to crack. But damn it, to feel the powerful magic of his opposite, to feel it move and throb, was a terribly desirable torture. It was as if the Destroyer was taunting him, using his powers on purpose to attract the painter, and this only made the task more difficult.

Ink would then go to Dream or Blue's house to take his mind off things, to chat, to cook, to share light and funny moments. It worked for an hour or two, but soon Ink's mind was caught up in the desire, the desire to see his soul mate, to start their characteristic fights and maybe end up embracing each other tenderly.

But in those moments Ink would shake his head and take a deep breath. As Nyx had said, not by being stubborn with his misplaced attitude was he going to get anywhere! He had to show the Destroyer that he was independent and in control of his emotions!

Then after a week without seeing his opposite - a terribly long time for the painter - Ink finally found himself face to face with him: Error had attacked an AU and was about to destroy it, but had ceased his activity as soon as the Creator arrived. They had looked into each other's eyes for a long time, silent, as if they were waiting for a reaction from the other ...

And Ink had attacked. Without a word, without deigning to enter into their usual verbal joust, he had fought Error to exhaustion, only to disappear quickly in a portal the next instant under the surprised gaze of the Destroyer.

"What shall I doooooo ?" Ink sobbed after appearing in Nyx's room, collapsing on his bed where he had rolled into a ball, a cushion in his arms.

The black-boned skeleton patted him gently on the shoulder as he finished his packet of chips, listening patiently to him complain:

"He doesn't care if I don't know, it suits him just fine! Maybe he loves someone else and I was in the way of seducing him from the beginning... I'm the worst ... !

- But no, but no. Don't worry Ink, I know it's hard but hold on. We'll move on to stage two soon, ok?"

He handed him a crisp, which the painter gladly accepted, stuffing it in his mouth as he sniffed it, wiping his tear-fogged eyes. Nyx slid his hand over his skull and caressed him gently, in an almost paternal gesture that soon reassured him. Finally he finally dozed off, far too comfortable in the bed that was not his, smelling the smell of Nyx, which had become impregnated in the sheets and which, it must be said, was not unpleasant.

*** ***

Error grunted, blasted a tree in his path. Fuckin' fuckin' .... A WEEK! A fucking week Ink ran away from him like the plague for no good reason! A fucking week that he didn't come to see him anymore, that he didn't even talk to him anymore, that he didn't even talk to him anymore!

Seriously, what was that last fight? Their fights were exciting because, in addition to inflicting resistance on each other, they shared animated verbal jousts that Error could only have with the painter! And there, at their last fight, Ink didn't say a word?

WHAT THE HELL...

His sons exploded a rock that was passing by.

Seriously... Error suddenly realized his thoughts, stopped dead in amazement:

"... Ah ... Ahah... What am I thinking? It almost looks like I'm worried. But no, no, I don't care, at least I have peace, I finally have peace! Ahahah!"

He banged his skull against a trunk. Damn it. Damn it.

Next time he saw the artist, he'd smash it.

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