twisted wonderland one-shots (requests CLOSED! for now)

jade x male!reader

synopsis: reader has been feeling depressed for a while now and boyf jade picks up on it. he and jade have a long talk about it. i do talk a lot abt mental health (mainly from my own experiences) so if this isn't ur shit i don't suggest that u read

"Hello," says Jade, popping his head into your room after knocking (and not waiting for an answer). "How are you today?"

You're sitting on your bed, picking at the little balls of lint that line the covers. "'M fine, I guess."

"Is that how you really feel?" asks Jade, closing the door behind him and walking over to sit next to you, smoothing out the lines on his pants and folding his gloved hands neatly over his lap.

You hate it whenever Jade tries to play therapist. He shouldn't have to—he's your boyfriend,  not a mental health professional—especially with his own special brand of fucked-upness that resides inside of that cynical head of his.

"Said I'm fine. What are you, a shrink?" you ask, giving him the side-eye. He gives you a little grin in return.

"I suppose not. But it doesn't take one to notice that you've been feeling unwell," he says, and before you can tell him he's wrong, "and I don't mean it in the physical sense. There's something bothering you," he states, and he does it in a way where there's no argument for you to fish for.

"...Yeah. Sure, I don't feel great, but it's normal. It's...whatever, it'll pass," you mumble, keeping your eyes on the floor and not on your boyfriend. Jade keeps looking at you, back ruler-straight and hands still primly folded in his lap. You've gotten used to his speculative silence, even though it's a little unsettling at times; either way, he's your boyfriend, and you love everything about him—even the weird stuff.

"Would you like to talk about it with me?" he asks, and you sigh because you knew he'd try to approach it like this.

"Honestly, I'd rather not. I don't wanna drag you down into my own problems, y'know? Just 'cause there's something wrong with me doesn't mean I have to dump it all on you too," you say, almost off-handedly, but the way Jade's posture shifts ever-so-slightly, you know he's suddenly shifted into a more concerned mode while still playing caretaker.

Great. You always say shit like that without realizing that other people see it differently than you do, and of course they get all concerned over it. 

"Look," you say, trying to de-escalate, "it's no big deal. I'll be back to normal in a day or two, 'kay? You don't need to worry about anything."

"On the contrary, I now feel that I should worry more," says Jade. "What's going through your head? Please," he says, then, almost as an afterthought, puts his hand over yours, "tell me what's going on. I can't help you if I don't know."

"That's just it, though," you say, feeing something sharp spike despite the numbness coating everything. "Even when people know, they still can't help—and it's not even your job to help me 'cause you're my boyfriend, not a therapist. They don't get it. I don't know how to explain it in a way that they'll get it," you say, stopping yourself before your voice can crack.