𝘾𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙖 𝘿𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙪 - 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 .𝟐

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[ any reader ]

Moreau sniffs but doesn't dare reach for the handkerchief on his desk. The empty crate he's sat upon creaks when he fidgets, round eyes trained on you. He visibly stiffens when you stand and calmly pace over. Another gulp as he stares. You hold the handkerchief between two fingers. Hesitantly he takes it.

While he blows his nose you take a seat upon a different crate closer to him. "I'm not a monster." You tell him.

"I didn't say you were." He answers quickly, fearfully. "Did Heisenberg say something? You can't listen to him, he lies. WaiーI'm not calling him a liar! He likes to get me into trouble, it happens often. Too often. Mother rarely listens to me. She says I ramble too much but I can't help it. It's happening again."

"Moreau." He presses the cloth to his mouth and blinks. "Heisenberg has no part in this. You have a voice, Miranda shouldn't dismiss you so much."

"I didn't see anything."

"Please don't lie to me."

"I may have seen something but I'm not entirely certain, my mind can't be trusted."

"He wasn't a good person."

"The less I know the better. I can't mess it all up if I don't know anything."

"You really need to talk to your family. They treat you unfairly."

He frowns. "I'm confused."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"But you saidー"

"I know what I said. I didn't mean it. It's become an instinct to make people fear me because I've been betrayed too many times before. I got tired of it. The agony, the emptiness, feeling worthless. I'm a person I deserve to be happy."

"I know how you feel." He looks down at the damp floorboards, kicking his feet back and forth.

"I'm not a good person but I'm not a monster."

"I am."

"No you're not. You're a person and you deserve to be happy. Life has hurt us enough. Listen, if you decide to tell someone what you saw, I won't be mad at you for it and I certainly won't hurt you. You're not someone I want to be afraid of me. I have to go. Don't let your family dictate your life, okay? Earn the respect you deserve."

"I saw nothing." You nod to yourself, standing from the crate. "[Y/n]?" You pause. "Thank you."

Maya stirs from her slumber and tilts her head to watch your silhouette. Plates of food are set on the table, a smile being offered once she pads on over, the sleeves of her pyjama shirt pulled over her hands as she rubs the remnants of sleep from her face.

"You made breakfast."

"I didn't make this however." You bring over a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallowsー only the pink ones. She smiles brightly. "I picked it up on my way home. No matter how hard I try I can never seem to get it right."

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