Desired Reality [Skephalo]

Chapter 20

Tw: Panic Attacks

"Puffy, what the fuck."

"I'm being serious here, it might actually work!"

"Why would something like that make him want to leave?!"

"I mean, if you tried to flirt with me I'd want to run off to another reality."

"Puffy!"

She snickered.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it!"

"I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

"What now?"

"It could make him uncomfortable."

"Huh?"

"You flirting with him, it could make him uncomfortable. If that were to happen he'd want to leave, right?"

"That...could work."

"See! I'm great at giving advice."

"It would probably be awkward for me though, I'm not really good at flirting with people."

"Don't worry about that, just do your best."

"Puffy...what if he doesn't get uncomfortable? What if he-"

"He doesn't seem like the type of person who flirts a lot"

"Huh?"

"I'm sure that guy has another reason to be here. Whether he shows it or not doesn't matter, people like him are the ones that always hide their true selves until their last breath."

"What do you mean?"

"I doubt he's some sorta emotionless psychopath that wants to watch people suffer, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, he has emotions. You just gotta hit him where it hurts, that way his facade will break." Puffy smiled "and, it looks like you've already cracked him a little."

Skeppy was speechless.

"You sure you don't have any experience with this kinda stuff?"

They both giggled.

"I'm telling ya, I'm great at giving advice!"

"I'll think about it...alright?"

"Mhm."

"Bye Puffy."

"Bye,"

Skeppy left the call.

He sat there, staring at his monitor. What was he supposed to do? Puffy's advice was...something. Sure, it could potentially work but Skeppy didn't even wanna imagine the awkwardness it would cause. He didn't want to flirt with Good, neither did he wanna 'break his facade' he just wanted him to leave! He wasn't interested in Good's personal life nor his thoughts, none of that mattered.

He just wanted to see Bad.

He didn't even care anymore, he didn't care whether Bad liked him or not. Whether their friendship was platonic or more, his heart yearned for his best friend. He wanted to apologize, to hug him and make him understand that he was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Bad was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He wouldn't say it out loud, he wouldn't dare. The pounding of his heart would surely stop him. Just the fantasy of it made his heart throb. He imagined how flustered Bad would be, stuttering and fidgeting like a middle schooler in love for the first time. Maybe they would kiss, maybe even more, as much as their hearts could handle. Maybe they could even-