Iplier and Septiceye One-Shots/Imagines

Blue For You (Emoplier)

Suggested by: Blue_Bishop.

Part two to "Blue Like Me".

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After a few weeks of thinking it over, you finally decided to call Emo. You grabbed your phone, and lay on your bed as you plugged in the numbers.

After two or three rings, you heard a voice at the other end of the line. "Hello?"

"Hi, Emo. It's (Y/N)," you said quietly.

"Oh. Uh... hey," he greeted, and you heard some rustling on the other end as he moved around. "What's, uh... what's up? Oh, hold up." He grunted, and you heard some barking. "Chi- Chica, not now. Play with Ethan. Chic- Chica! Down, girl!" There was a thump, and a quiet groan.

"Mark, are you okay?" you asked through a small smile.

"I- ugh, Chica! Down! I'm fine," he muttered, and there was some scuffling and moving around.

"What were you doing before you were ambushed by your dog?" you asked.

"Uh... nothing, really. Contemplating life," he answered, quite meekly. That made you giggle, ever so slightly. "Why? What's up?"

"I dunno, really. Just want to talk. I'm a bit bored," you admitted.

"Oh. Uh...." There was a sigh, and he cleared his throat. "You, uh... wanna come over? My parents are away, my mom is out for something with my brother, and my dad is checking up in the hos... uh. Just... come on over." He sounded sad, so you quickly agreed.

"Alright. Sure. I'll be right over," you said, hoping to cheer him up.

"Okay. See you soo- Chica! What did I say?!" There was a click, and then the tone signalling that the call had been cut. You sighed, and got changed into a sweatshirt and jeans. Slipping on your runners, you opened the door, shouting,

"MOM, I'M HANGING WITH A FRIEND!" and then left, closing and locking the door behind you.

As soon as you rang the doorbell, loud barking came from inside the house. The door opened, and Emo stood in front of you, his black hair covering one eye as he stared you down.

"C'mon. Up in my room," he grunted, looking frustrated at something. He turned around, already heading up the wooden stairs.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him. He turned his head in your direction, not really looking at you, but not ignoring you, either. But all that came out of his mouth was,

"Ethan took Chica out for a walk. No one else is at home."

You sat down on the chair by Emo's desk, as he sat on the bed. He stared at his hands for a solid minute, as you stared at anything else but him. Finally, he spoke.

"Thanks for, uh, coming."

"No problem. I was bored, anyways," you replied. He nodded, absently tugging at a loose string on his jeans. "Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he nodded, obviously lying.

"Mark, please. I can tell when something's wrong," you scolded quietly, using his real name. He looked up at you with chocolate eyes, his bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

"Uh... my dad. He just needs to get checked up for something they found... the doctors, I mean. They found something. And... yeah. He'll be fine, though. It'll work out...." He trailed off, looking out the window, looking lost and afraid. You stood up, and sat down beside him.

"Of course it'll work out. Everything will be fine," you whispered. He just nodded, pulling up his hood as you saw the tears well up in his eyes. "Mark, everything's alright. Everything's alright."

"I know. Don't worry, I know. It'll be okay. They just need to... yeah. It's fine," he nodded, and cleared his throat. "Do you want to do something?"

He clearly wanted to change the subject, so you suggested something you knew he loved. "You got any video games?"

He gave a small smile, and chuckled. "Yeah, but only one controller."

"That's fine. We can take turns. What games do you have?"

"Uh... how about that one?" He pointed at a game that you were somewhat familiar with, so you nodded.

"I can play that," you told him. He picked it up and slid it into the console. While waiting for it to boot up, you took a minute to glance at Emo's feature's.

His face was slightly red, his eyes puffy as if he had cried recently. His lips were pale, and his eyes showed sadness, grief, and exhaustion. What was his dad going through that made him so distraught?

"Alright. You play first, or me?" he asked, startling you ever so slightly.

"You go first. I want to just remember how to play, first," you nodded, and watched him pick up the controller, getting comfortable in front of the television in front of him.

He played a bit, and it turned out that he was really good.

"Really? I haven't played this in a while, actually," he said quietly when you mentioned it to him. "I just remembered it now."

"Isn't space just so pretty?" you asked, looking at the game while he moved around.

"Yeah. It's pretty nice." He was quiet after that, and you just watched him move around the map.

"Do you want a turn?" he asked after about fifteen minutes. You just shook your head as you smiled at him, wanting him to play more to get his mind off of whatever was haunting him. Then he turned off the game.

"What, did you get bored?" you asked.

"No. It's just that... my dad got the game for me, and... you know what? It's nothing, don't worry." He looked angry and miserable at the same time, and it broke your heart. "I suppose you want to leave now?"

"No, I can stay a while longer. Let's watch a movie," you proposed, looking at the now black TV screen. "How about that one?"

"I love that one." He gave a small smile, and that, in turn, made you smile. He put the movie in, and sat down beside you.

"I watched it a bit, but then I stopped, so if it's stuck somewhere in the middle, sorry about that," he apologized.

"It's alright," you shrugged, just as the movie rebooted.

"--Ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, 'Dear God! What is that thing,' will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever."

Then your eyes widened, not at the movie, but at Emo. He yawned, and closed his eyes, resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled as the protagonist stood up from the bed, and raised his weapon.

"Drop. Your. Sword."

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Word count: 1083