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He didn’t know when it started, perhaps it was when he saw his dad get stabbed in front of him, or perhaps when he saw his home get blasted to smithereens. It was safe to say that he didn’t like the thought of people leaving him. “Leaving” was just a synonym for “goodbye” or “forever gone”, it may not necessarily be true, but it sure as hell felt like it. Everything that happened had gone out of its way to prove to Fundy that it was true. The image of fire consuming his town, his father slowly slipping in sanity. It’s safe to say that if he wanted something, he latched onto it and never let go. Wouldn’t anyone when promised a second chance?
---
He can’t remember when they got together, or were they even together? It certainly felt that way. 5up laughed, giggling into his hand as Fundy felt himself move closer. It was nice, all their days had been nice. The sunset was just perfectly colouring the sky a burning orange as they walked along a path together.
“Text me when you get home?”
“I will!”
“Bye bye!”
“See you later-“
For some reason the image of 5up’s back turned against the sun walking away from him had left him with more sadness than it did happy, as though 5up had contained all the happiness of the date within a jar and brought it home with him. Perhaps was that why Fundy found himself at home crying? He can’t be sure, but he did know one thing, it hurt like hell.
---
The second time, he tried convince himself it was just because 5up was busy. The talented man had many many thing to do throughout the day, rather than just, you know- Fundy checked his phone. -sit around and message him? It made him spiral back to think of all the times 5up had messaged him, was it more frequent during the day or during the night, what did 5up do that normally took so much time, was it because he hated him? No that can’t be the case, or was it when he-
>Message from 5up
Temporary happiness.
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Three. Just what had come over him. He stood in the living room looking at his phone. Why? Why was he so pressed about a reply? 5up loved him, of course he’d respond, it’s just a matter of time. 5up was different, 5up doesn’t hate you. 5up loves you. 5up, won’t leave you. 5up, doesn’t hate you. That’s all Fundy needed before he crashed down in a waterfall of tears. How on earth could he be certain? All he wanted to do was to talk to 5up and cherish him.
---
The fourth time it happened, Fundy turned away in the middle of a kiss. 5up had leaned forward to playfully peck the fox on the cheek, only for him to miss entirely and see the hybrid pulled back.
“Is something wrong?”
Does he actually give a fuck? Or will the bite hurt more?
“I think I like you.”
“I like you too, Fundy, are you ok?”
Fundy pushed himself into 5up, merely feeling the knitted scarf against him, soft soothing rubs on his back.
“No, I’m not.”
Bit by bit, Fundy tightened his hug around 5up, slowly spilling the ideas that he had in his head out for 5up to hear. If 5up leaves, so be it, he gave it a shot. 5up only listened, continuing to rub his back and occasionally pat his head. This didn’t feel like leaving, it felt like staying.
---
The fifth time, he took a breath in and out. 5up didn’t hate him, he was just busy. He reminded himself that 5up was at the farm, trying to figure out how the machinery of the bakery would work, slowly, he wrote down his thoughts, thinking back to the last conversation he had. Nothing amiss, just a sneaky trick that his brain played with him. Even if he might have felt more intense than 5up, he was certain that the radish didn’t hate him, that the radish was happy to talk about machineries, similar interests and more. He took a breath, letting out all of the tension he stored. It’ll be alright.