CCCC/HMS Oneshots

confidant (heart/mind)

A/N: happy (technically) 20th part!!! short, rushed one! i mainly wrote this to update you all. the au outline is in the works, going very well! i have a progressively vivid vision and i'm super excited to start writing it, hopefully this month. i hope at least one of you are looking forward to it ;3 luv y'all <3

"You've been quiet today."

My mug's foot clacks against the wooden roof of the table, the warm beverage writhing inside. I notice Mind has yet to set down his cup; the cocoa most likely soothes his metal hands from the cold.

"You've barely even made snarky comments. I'm kinda glad, but it's unnatural–I almost miss them," I note to the other party, craning my neck to where he sits, "Why is that?"

He shifts his posture a bit, bailing out a sigh as he takes his time considering his answer to my inquiry. The large, heated blanket is tugged towards him like gravity, away from me as if I were the sun. I snort, hooking my fingers around the edge and attempting to drag it back, yet his weight keeps it down. A scoff spawns from my mouth as I shift towards him, the fabric over my hooves covered by more of itself.

"I don't have the energy," he admits, the cloak stressing as he leans back, "I've been distracted, too. My thoughts–they're all bombarded with... I don't know, desperation?"

I tilt my head, perking my eyebrows, "Desperation? For what?"

"I suppose it's human nature to be scared of the unknown. I'm not usually in fear of much, but there is one thing," Mind murmurs, his voice lowering in something reminiscent of embarrassment, "For someone so organized, not knowing what to do–not knowing the solution..."

He drops his crimped legs.

"It's terrifying."

I stay silent for a moment, browsing my thoughts for a response.

"Everyone has fears. I know it's hard to admit them, and it may make you feel weak, but there's nothing wrong with it," I offer a weak grin, my plum lips stretching in an attempt to produce any comfort, "It's normal to panic when you feel helpless. That's just how things operate."

He gives a small cry, "Weak! Oh how weak I feel!" His voice strains a tad as he sets his mug down, thrusting his back against the cushions behind us.

"It's horrifying. It feels like I'm just floating into space without a rope, not even an asteroid in sight. Or maybe I'm blind in the asteroid belt, not able to see them coming."

"Well," I reach my gloved hand out, finding his heated metal own, "do you want to, er, tell me what's making you feel this way?"

He groans, some snarky argument likely bubbling up in his throat.

"Mind," I coil my fingers around his, speaking in a sort of parental warning tone, "sometimes it's good to talk about your feelings."

"Fine," Mind pouts, pulling his hand away. He readjusts once more, sitting straighter as he ponders his words. "It's us. You know, our constant fighting. Soul's right, you know. We are meant to be Whole. That's our entire purpose, yet we can't go a month without fighting–barely a meal without bickering."

"Well, it's natural," I mutter, "We both want the same goal, somewhat, we just have opposing views on how we should get there. We're bound to fight."

"It's exhausting, though."

"Can't disagree."

"It truly does make me feel lost," he confides, "And that just drives me into a coffin."

"I think you're strong," I grasp his knee, giving a genuine smile, "I mean, after everything I've done, all those times I've tried to hurt you, you've stood strong. Like ancient statues, still beautiful after so long."

He lets out a few incoherent, flustered mutters, before exhaling. "Yeah, whatever." Yet I can hear the grin in his voice.

I nudge him playfully. "I can hear you smiling," I tease.

Metal hands shove me back, "I'm not fucking smiling."

"Oh, but you are!"

"Shut it."