Goldity x Reader
Decided to add a lil song to listen to while you read 😻
i think it's a lil sad idk you tell me
it's also kinda short so i apologise
remember to eat well and drink enough water, and just take care of yourself in general. you deserve the world babes <3
enjoy :)<3
Angry.
Disgusted.
Foolish.
Scared.
Miserable.
Frigid.
All those emotions, yet none seemed to fit.
He wasn't supposed to feel them.
He wasn't supposed to feel anything.
He was supposed to be the quick witted one.
He was supposed to be the connector.
He was supposed to be their saviour.
But somehow he ended up here.
In this disgusting small room.
Cramped, moist, unlit.
Those emotions didn't sit right with him. He'd never felt them before.
He'd never felt... agitated.
To tell the whole truth, the room wasn't all that small. It just felt like that. Perhaps it was just his imagination running tricks on him. Or perhaps it was his loneliness, slowly drawing him to insanity.
Yes, he'd gone on for very long without someone to talk to, a millennia even, but that was before he met you.
His connector.
His saviour.
Of course, you weren't some sort of superhero im a red cape, but it still felt like you saved him.
.........
Even though you just kinda stood there whilst he talked to Albert.
But that didn't stop the rush.
The rush of emotions he felt
It wasn't like anything he'd ever felt before. It wasn't like anger or disgust.
He felt warm and... wonderful.
In his eyes you were his saviour.
You helped him see. Helped him feel.
But soon the fun must end, because with those emotions came new ones.
Worse ones.
He had started to feel butterflies in his stomach that made him want to throw up, and not in a good way.
He knew what these emotions were. He just refused to acknowledge them.
He wished that worrying and the urge to throw up when he felt that emotion would get up and leave.
It never did though.
But he learned to numb it.
By listening to you.
You had the habit on sneaking down to Chuck's basement to talk to him.
You'd talk about all sorts of things.
He felt close to you.
He wanted you.
He yearned for you.
But sometimes you weren't there.
When that happened he'd listen to your voice from above instead.
Song after song, you always sung along. No matter what song was on the radio you always knew it.
You wrote your own song too.
A lullaby.
You made it for him.
You knew how his emotions effected him, so you wrote it.
It worked.
He always grew so calm when you sung it for him.
He'd managed to fall asleep once.
That felt nice.
..........
He wish he could still have that.
He missed your kind voice and words which you'd use to reassure him that "everything would be okay.".
He missed your warm and soft hands which he'd hold and bring up to his face.
He missed your soft hair which he'd run his fingers through.
He missed your soft lips which he'd bring up to his own.
He missed you.
His connector.
His angel.
His saviour.
But, like said before...
All good things must come to an end.
