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English
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Published:
2022-12-03
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1,143
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1/1
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Don't leave me

Summary:

Edd's sad and Tom's concerned.

Notes:

Told in 2nd person POV. You are Edd, but not told in "I" and "me."

Work Text:

You're name is Edward, and you are currently on the floor crying, crying like your life deeply depends on it.

It's been 4 months since your dear friend, Tord—the man you once loved to the point of killing for him—has been gone. 4 months of agonizing loneliness and heartbreak, no pain ever like before. You'd think after being left by countless other meaningful people you'd be used to the bitter pain by now. But boy, were you wrong.

Sure, you've had people come and go, people held more dear then others. People you've loved, people you still love, and people you wished you loved more. And now they're gone, forever, never to be contacted or seen again. And even so, you still have a deep love and attachment to them all. Always something you see, hear, smell, or touch that might remind you of one. Happy memories trigger waterfalls of tear and regret. Hard, hard, regret.

So, even though it's happened countless times, you haven't learned. Haven't learned to let go, to not get attached so easily, to forget. You still find yourself being gullible, naïve, oblivious. And because of that, you get attached, thinking, "They won't leave like the rest, they promised!" But that's all a lie. So you find yourself being left by another in a more hurtful way then the last.

And honestly, you wont ever be able to stop it.

Like a cycle, endless punishment surely sent by God himself. A conscience for a unimaginable crime you must've committed. You weren't exactly sure what bad deed you did to deserve this hell, but it must've been bad. Real bad.

And that all leaves you where you are here. With bad attachment issues and some mental health problems, you find yourself all but curled up in a small ball in the corner if your room. Doing what? Crying. Crying over a stupid, no good, high-school like crush.

Tord.

Your head bangs with thoughts about him. Most memories—some good, some bad—and some horrid thoughts. Memories of you two on picnics, maybe taking a walk, playing video games, watching some crappy low quality movie, or just goofing around. Others, like how he lied to you, times he hurt you, and... The robot. All while you have degrading thoughts about yourself and him. Mostly you.

You think things like how stupid you were to open up to him, to welcome him back in and how he treated you. About how gullible you are, how starved you are to feel loved to let him back into your heart so easily. So on. All this, and more, just influences more tears and gasps for air to come out. More panic and sorrow, more shaking and pulling yourself into a tighter ball.

More isolation.

Lately, you've isolated yourself. You fell into some sort of depressive episode that hasn't stopped. Less eating, more sleeping, and lots more crying. You pillows stained with tears, fridge full of expired food, and dust plastered on almost everything. It got so bad you had to give Ringo to Tom, just so she'd stay fed. Lack of energy made it hard to get up, and more frequent panic attacks didn't help.

You even gave Tom a spare key to your apartment, and boy did that come in handy tonight.

Because just as your panic attack worsened, more gasps for air but less air actually getting in, you felt something brush your shaky arm. A hand softly lays on your slim arm, causing you to flinch harshly back from the simple friction and look who it was. You calm down a tad once you see it was just Tom, and not a freak kidnapper.

He looked worried, concern emotion clearly coving his face. He slowly lays the hand back on your arm, more carefully then before. He soon motions for a hug, which you quickly comply. You practically jumped into his arms, being engulfed by the hoodie he currently wore. You cling onto him tightly, grabbing the blue cloth and nuzzling your face deep into his chest.

He slowly hugs back, softly and not to stern. He rubs small circles on your back, running his fingers through your thick, chocolate brown hair. He gives small Shh sounds a reassures you, praising you slightly as you begin to slow down in gasps and cries.

Usually, it takes you forever to calm down and stop crying from a panic attack like that. But something about Tom and what he was doing felt so comforting and right, a warm feeling flushing throughout you face and body. You nuzzle a bit more, cries becoming small hiccups that soon disappear. And after a bit, you hear the comfortable silence broken by a soft voice.

"Want to lay down? You look exhausted." he drags out, whispering it in your ear. That alone sends shivers down your spine and another warm feeling to plaster your cheeks.

You pause to think for a moment, "Yeah, I'm sleepy." You drag out the Y for a bit, subconsciously. And before anything else, you feel two arms and hands slide down to your back and pick you up. He carries you over to your bed, laying you down and sitting on the edge. You crawl in, pulling covers over your shoulders. After a couple minutes you feel the dip of where he once sat come back up, indicating that the taller man is getting up to leave, which saddens you a bit. You really don't want him to leave.

"Wait, Tom." you say as you grab his sleeve, pulling him back down to sit on the bed and face you. You stare into his black hole like eyes, waiting for a answer of some sort.

"Hm?" is all he quietly reply's with, as well as a blank yet curious face.

"Do you mind..." you hesitate, not sure if you should really say it or not. But it's to late to turn back, now. "...Staying the night? I-I don't want to be alone, please." You look at him, slightly pouting.

He responds by crawling back in bed with you, pulling the covers over himself too and pulling you close. He spoons you, to your delight, and keeps you close. The warm radiating off of him heats your body quickly, also to your delight. You toss over your side, now facing his chest, and cling closer. You nuzzle into the fabric once more, purring softy. He runs his fingers through your hair once again, as he runs his hands up and down carefully on your hip.

"I love you, Tom." you state, slightly to tired to realize what meaning you really meant behind those words.

"I love you too, Edd."

You soon feel the overwhelming feeling of sleep consume you, and finally, you get a good nights rest.

Maybe, Tom is different.