One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Day 8 (RMS)

(Kinda old but not)

Sweet lord almighty, day eight is so freaking L O N G. Nearly seven thousand words. I AM DYING.

Uh, hi. Sorry if I'm not updating as much as you'd (probably) like, but I've been doing the best I can in my current state, mentally and emotionally. I am exhausted from the past two weeks of dealing with insomnia, and even if it's second nature by now to deal with it, that doesn't change the fact that I'm losing sleep and am tired. I guess it's a good thing I can deal with it, or else you guys wouldn't get any stories.

As for the requested story, I'm working on that now. I've gotten a plot written down, from start to finish. I don't know if you'll enjoy it, but please bear with me, I'm doing my best. I'm not adding day nine here, mainly because I haven't written it yet, but also because day eight is so long. While I do like long pages, I don't want to make them so long that they're boring and a waste of time, you know? Anyways, enough of my anxiety, here's day eight!

----------------------------

Nightmare tried to wash the bite, he did. But he gave up when even attempting it had him nearly screaming. Multiple times, he glared at the door, silently cursing Cross. Getting dressed presented a whole new level of FUCK! He hated it when his tentacles got injured, absolutely despised it. Once he got the limp tendril situated, cradling it with two others, Nightmare left the bathroom and went straight for the kitchen. He hadn't eaten in his worry for Cross and was positively famished. Cross was in the kitchen when Nightmare stormed in. He'd cleaned up the glass and mopped up the spilled beer, silently screaming at himself for being such a terrible friend the entire time. He'd made two sandwiches for Nightmare and had left them on the table. Cross had hoped to finish before Nightmare actually showed, so he wouldn't be in the room, but he didn't hear the bathroom door open through the waves of self-hatred.

As soon as Nightmare stepped in, Cross darted out of the room and fled to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh, feeling as if he'd burst into tears right there. Nightmare didn't notice Cross was there until he was gone, eye barely catching that blue sweater dashing around the corner. He absently poked the sandwiches on the table before taking one and eating slowly. He didn't know what Cross was doing, but he hoped he'd finish soon. Nightmare didn't want to be late. He considered grabbing the second sandwich but decided to leave it since he was sure Cross hadn't eaten. He eyed the stairs, growing more and more irritated the longer he waited. What was Cross even doing? Two minutes later, Cross finally came shuffling in right as Nightmare finished a cup of coffee. His eyes landed on the uneaten sandwich and he blinked in confusion. "You... there's still one left..." Nightmare rolled his eye, arms crossed as he stared Cross down. "Just hurry up and eat so I'm not late."

Cross deflated. Of course Nightmare was still mad. He curled in on himself the further he moved into the room, flinching at the glare he was given. Cross set his gaze on the floor, feeling heavy and tired. The sandwich went ignored. "...let's go then.." Nightmare was overly aware that Cross didn't even acknowledge the food, but couldn't force himself to care. Cross silently stepped past him, letting Nightmare step outside before locking the front door and taking the driver's seat. He winced as Nightmare struggled to get in without agitating the injured tendril, cursing colorfully when he finally settled in the passenger's seat. Cross bit his tongue before he could ask if Nightmare was okay, forcing himself to focus on the car. The ten-minute drive was absolutely tense and uncomfortable. Cross dropped Nightmare off at the entrance, dejectedly staring at the darker's back until he disappeared inside the school. Nightmare didn't wait for Cross, continuing to his first class while the other parked the car. Besides, Cross's class wasn't for another two hours.