Hermitcraft Oneshots

Hey, are you there?

I tried a new writing style out- dialogue, description, dialogue- tell me if its good :D

Tw for death, suicide, illness, gore, all that stuff.

Sorta joe x cleo but mostly platonic

The end kinda sucks ngl but I couldn't bring myself to edit it.
———

"Hey, Joe, are you there?"

Cleo asked, eyes tear-soaked as she gazed sleeplessly at the ceiling.

"You know I'm not."

The darkness just beyond her vision answered, a fresh wave of tears following them.

"I'm sorry, Joe."

She murmured, voice so breathless and sorrowful even she found it pathetic.

"I know you are."
———

"You missed a piece of dust, here."

A peachy skinned, coco haired, honeyed eyed man appeared in said spot, toe tapping against the cobblestone scaffold of Cleo's redstone project.

"Ah! Thanks, Joe, you're a lifesaver!"

Cleo hummed, already crossing the distance to deposit the dust.

"You know I'm not really here."

Joe spoke, voice mechanical and unforgiving, each syllable a slap to Cleo's cheek.

"I know."

She responded, her voice softened with a sudden wave of despair.

"You can't keep relying on me."

Joe spoke again, appearing to slowly fade out of reality- slipping into a sort of translucent half existence.

"I know."

Cleo's hand tightened its grip around her pickaxe handle, lifeless knuckles white with exertion.

"You have to let me go."

The poet murmured, disappearing entirely.

"He—Hey.. J..Joe? I'm sorr.. sorr.. sorry."

A gentle sob shredded the air as Cleo dropped to her knees, tools clattering to the ground around her body- a sort of false halo. Her head was held downcast, tears a constant stream from her eyes.

"I know."
———

"Do you remember the last time you saw me? I mean saw me for real."

Joe had come during breakfast this time, a bleary eyed Cleo snapping to attention as her cereal spoon slipped through her fingers.

"I- I.. I do.."

She stuttered, unable to help the tears that decided to make home in her eyes.

"Tell me, Cleo, what happened?"

The poet stood in the corner of the room, average height a looming presence to Cleo.