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“Clown?” The silver-haired man spoke barely above a whisper, his breath hitched ever so slightly as the masked man turned to face him—and the duo made eye contact, just for a few seconds, perhaps more, but it was enough to hijack Branzy’s nervous system—even a small, short interaction just like this.
“You do realize…out of the three million people in the world, I’d choose you?”
His voice echoed, with the tinge of bitterness that made Branzy’s body shiver, blinking in such a feeble manner the clown chuckled quietly, this can’t be a good sign. “You’re not telling the whole truth,” Branzy’s tone comes off as a quick-witted, harsh reply, leading to Clown—out of pure habit from his other servants—to slap the purple eyed man.
“Ow!” He snapped back, placing one hand on the cheek that Clown had slapped. “What was—Clown! What was that for?” He stutters, completely taken aback. Clown had never done this before, so suddenly doing this kind of action was staggering. “Sorry,” He says back plainly. “Force of habit, I swear doing that was not my intention—”
And just before Clown could finish his sentence—Branzy grabbed his waist, pulling him closer—and he didn’t even know what he was doing. Staring into what most people would say, ‘The most dangerous guy’ in the server’s eyes, Clown didn’t fight back.
Maybe he only did that to get him to stop talking, but honestly, what now? The two men were practically holding onto each other, waiting for some signal or someone to initiate in what could be their first kiss.
Yeah, this was starting to stress Branzy out.
I mean, he was already stressed out from the beginning, ever since their little argument. “You have to stop being so reckless,” Branzy mutters just in Clown’s ear behind the mask, completely disregarding just how much that affected Clown.
Without inhaling for the past twenty or so seconds—he was breathless, and that small intimate touch was enough to send his mind into complete shut down—his body flinched. “A-ah.” He gasped out noiselessly, desperate for air. “You’re killing me—Branzy.”
“God, you’re so hot.” Branzy grumbles indistinctively, his free hand sliding to Clown’s mask. And, with little to no thought beforehand, he asks something so stupid—one can call him the most stupid person on the server. “Can…” He pauses, before exhaling, “can I?” Branzy blurts.
“You’d always get a yes.” Clown answers, a smile forming in his lips, and that was the turning point. The silver haired man gently, softly took off Clown’s mask, unveiling what he thought was the most beautiful man alive. “I know I saw you without this,” He points, obviously to the mask. “but, I just still can’t get over how—how ethereal you are.” He expresses, looking at the same person who he had a, well, complicated relationship with.
“Swooning over me, huh? You know I like that.” Clown states the evident, leading to Branzy rolling his eyes. “—And the stupidest I know.” He adds. “Now that’s plain cheating.” He giggles, brushing his fingers over Branzy’s skin, leading Branzy to swiftly take off and side aside his gloves, just to feel more of Clown.
And just for a moment—their heart beats slowly, but surely got louder, as time itself seemed to disintegrate whenever the two melts into the other’s graze, that—apparently was a consistent factor. “I’m…” He sighed, before completing his sentence. “I never thought I’d say this—but I’m yours, Branzy.”
The duo laughed, one playful, and the former embarrassed. “You’re changing me in ways so easily I, myself don’t know what’s happening—Can you…” He stumbles across his words. “Can you teach me?” His eyes full of mischief, both obviously grinning the longer and longer the interaction went on.
“I don’t know a lot myself—but it’s you, and for you…” Branzy hesitated, his palms growing sweaty. “For you, I’d do anything.
Fuck.
It hurts so, so incredibly bad, it was maddening
The silver haired man stood against the stripped logs, clutching onto the wall as tears dropped more on his cheeks.
Could you imagine? Being emotionally, physically abandoned by the one he loved the most? To be fair—they had never established a clear relationship between the two, so it was never really a ‘real’ relationship anyway—it was just some fling they had going on.
And that’s where it hurts. That’s where Branzy wished he had done even a little bit more—to tell Clown he wanted more than some simple flirting and kisses—to tell Clown he wanted a serious, dedicated relationship. How could someone be this fucking foolish?
To be led on by something that didn’t exist, you could truly be deemed the worst player on the server—but somehow, and quite worrying actually—was the fact Branzy didn’t care.
He just needed an explanation—why something so easily said than done hurt him—in many more ways than some TNT trap or spawn kill could do. Thirsty, Branzy walked over to the kitchen, limping, not from physical, but mental pain.
No one was even around—not Rek, not Clown, not Chief, you know what? Screw them all. They didn’t care—if they did, they would be here, BRANZY wouldn’t have to go through this mental roller coaster Clown, yes, Clown had put him through.
If only he could rewind—if only.
It seemed like he was only bullshit in other people’s eyes, a tool to manipulate and give fake hope that maybe, maybe it worked. Doubts clouded his mind whenever Clown was around from the beginning, but to put himself in a false sense of security was beyond naive.
Their relationship—Branzy thought it would bloom into a gorgeous, protected flower, something that would be treasured between the two—then his world shattered.
Scratch that—Clown WAS his world. The seedling that Branzy and Clown planted together withered, into an ugly, abandoned flower.
“You’ve made me look like the biggest fool—ClownPierce.” The more Branzy thought about it, the more obvious the wound in his heart deepened. The ship flew—and he was left hanging.
Clown chuckles, with Branzy laughing. The two were out stargazing, and the duo laid on the grass. “Hey, isn’t that the Ursa Major?” Clown notes. “You know your stuff.” Branzy comments playfully. “Hey! I did research because I wanted this little outing to be special.”
…
“You do realize…out of the three million people in the world, I’d choose you?”
Echoed.
“What?” He asked, blinking—certainly, he was caught off guard. “I know that’s not what you want, though.”
“What do you mean?” The man repeats. “You know what I’m talking about, Branzycraft. I don’t want to…” He pauses. “I don’t want to live in a world without…us.”
“I mean—me too?” He adds. “You don’t get it.” He chuckles, with Branzy still utterly confused. “Huh?”
“Nevermind. Sorry.”
"Branzy?"