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trophy’s breath hitched.
he was constantly throwing himself over the edge. countless beer cans and burnt cigarettes sitting beside him as he wiped away another tear. the sight of a winner repeatedly losing was just pathetic. his memories were such a blur for him. he couldn’t even remember how or when he decided to bury all his feelings into these cans on the bedside drawer.
continuous tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. staring back and forth from the ceiling to the left side of his bed. why was he so upset about this? the confident and arrogant man suddenly turned into a sobbing mess of all sorts of things. had he pushed everyone away so far to the point he had nothing? that was honestly true. being so proud of his own achievements and independence that he pushed aside everyone around him. he was a man though. he didn’t need anyone else. he’s strong by himself. a man as brave as him didn’t need someone weak or pathetic pulling him down. but he yearned for that feeling. a feeling where he felt admired and cared about. the thought of him feeling loved warmed his heart but he wanted to physically feel that warmth. someone by his side to hold his hand, wrap their arms around him and reassure him that it’ll all be okay during tough times. fuck, he thought he was pathetic for even thinking of that. why would he even think about wanting someone but himself? only he can help himself, not some sore loser.
once he went back to looking beside him, he just imagined a person who could possibly be in that place. a friend? family? questions evolved from his mind, circling around in his head. all those circles that paced back and forth could even make a shape. and it did. oh, it definitely did. eventually, it created a blurred out picture of someone. a beautifully detailed image of a dark skinned man with grey, spiky yet tamed hair. he always had that sharp glare that could intimidate anyone. anything he says might be the most threatening thing but he could easily play it off with the same stupid smirk he’d always give. he was so soft on the inside yet sharp on the outside. that’s what ticked trophy off the most. someone so strong who he looked up to just losing their strength in all. no longer the big, tough guy that he always strived to be.
thoughts of the familiar blade wandered trophy’s mind. what he could’ve done if he just showed that he cared more about knife. it wasn’t just jealousy or rivalry between strength that was displayed on the show, it was the admiration for the weapon. they were practically the same, or so he thought. that idea changed once knife made him acknowledge the “big difference”. regardless of them being different, trophy still held onto their similarities. he just wished that he gave himself the ability to talk to knife before knife passed. why was he so afraid of talking to knife? i mean he could say “fuck you” and not give a damn, at least on the show.. it was hard to not care about someone who you secretly did care about deep inside. knife was the closest thing he had to a person he actually wanted. everyone else was just a stupid twerp tod him but knife? the sight of knife, himself, could make trophy drop to his knees. he was so lost into the though of the blade, it was driving him insane. the second he hears his name, he’ll change his focus on knife. if knife were to accidentally brush his hand against trophy’s, he’d probably never want to wash his hands again. knife was just someone he looked up to the most but he couldn’t bare to admit that to anyone. trophy? putting himself down just for someone as pathetic as knife? knife as in the girly freak who holds onto a mexican girl with a fucked up bob and her stupid purple monkey? but thats the thing, knife could accept and not bother to care about everyone knowing about his feminine tendencies. trophy could never. that was the problem. knife was brave. a lot more braver. knife was probably everything trophy wasn't. and trophy wanted that.
trophy kept his eyes shut. not wanting to deal with the rapid burning from staring at the ceiling too long. from all the drinking and smoking, it ended up just spinning around for him. all that remained in his mind was just that stupid smug face from knife.
knife.
knife.
knife.
“trophy.”
“knife?”
after trophy heard the deep and raspy voice, he hurriedly got up from his bed. scanning the room like a cat in airplane mode, just alert. and there he was, the embodiment of the perfect human for trophy. knife. he was in his regular state. lovely dark, radiant but rough skin. lucious, sharp and shiny grey hair. he looked human. like as if he never died to begin with. he was sitting on trophy’s bed. legs crossed and observing trophy’s state right now. looking straight in the golden boy’s eyes.
“y—y-you’re real…” trophy quietly uttered under his cold breath.
knife chuckled, “of course i am. you really thought i’d be gone?”
“i …i’m sorry….” trophy apologized as tears dripped harder.
“no worries. i’m here for you now.” knife reassured.
trophy continued to stare at the latter for who knows how long. eyes wandered up and down. trophy smiled at knife still remaining in his best shape like trophy remembered.
trophy crawled forward to the grey haired man. hands patting everywhere to check if he’s real or not. knife just giggled at trophy’s determination.
“no….this isn’t real..i’m hallucinating, aren’t i?” trophy’s smiled dropped.
“what makes you so sure?” knife questioned as he rose an eyebrow.
trophy sighed, “the real knife.. wouldn’t even step foot in this room, and here you are sitting before me. you….you aren’t knife.”
“even if i’m not knife, i’m better. aren’t i? you want me to care for you. don’t you, trophy?” knife smiled as he brought his hand to trophy’s hair.
trophy became flustered at knife’s touch. knife ran his fingers through trophy’s ruffled and wavy hair. trophy was lost for words but he knew this wasn’t real no matter how hard he could pretend it was.
“i…i love you so much….please..” trophy begged while he brought knife’s shoulder closer to his.
“shhh, let me take care of you.” knife shushed the award with a kiss.
his voice rang inside trophy’s ears. almost like music. the deep and raw voice that knife had. he just wanted to hear it all day.
knife continued to kiss trophy as he had his hand around his waist and the other still interlocked in his blonde waves. trophy on the other hand, cupped his face with both hands. he felt stuck onto knife like glue. he refused to let go of this moment.
trophy was then gently pushed onto the bed by the blade. lips still intertwined with just a perfect amount of tongue whenever their lips became dry. knife let his hands wander around trophy’s chest under his plain white tee. trophy’s physique wasn’t surprising considering his role as a jock. he caressed trophy’s skin in care and admiration.
this knife did wanna take care of trophy.
knife then pulled away from the kiss and moved down to his neck. he left kisses and a few nibs near his collarbone. trophy had his eyes shut. he loved the attention.
“mmf…knifee…” trophy groaned.
knife hummed against his neck.
“stopp…hah..this is….too much..” trophy grunted in between words.
knife chuckled, “come on, troph. you need this, don’t you?”
trophy looked at knife. both eyes glancing at each other.
“i…do. but i don’t..deserve this.” trophy looked away, avoiding contact.
“someone as strong as you needs someone to hold them. trust me, you deserve this.” knife praised while laying down on trophy’s chest.
trophy thought to himself, this is terrible characterization. sure, he wanted to be cared for, but he wanted knife, genuine knife. not just someone who’ll say what trophy wants to hear. he wants to hear it from the actual knife.
the view of the blade made his breath shudder. he wanted this, he really did. but no matter how much he did, he could never delude himself to believe this was real. the way knife glared in his eyes made him so weak. the same fuck ass smirk that knife would keep on his face made him feel so soft. this was so wrong to trophy. he’s supposed to be the man whos strong. why’s he so down bad for some prick who doesn’t even like him?
“don’t think too much of it, trophy. i’m just doing you a favor.” knife whispered.
trophy scoffed while rolling his eyes, “a favor? really? seriously, how fake can you get? the real knife would never say these things.”
“none of us are real to begin with, trophy. you can’t expect a faker knife to act exactly like how mephone4 made him.” knife replied.
“okay obviously, i’m not talking about that. i just want you to be as realistic as knife is.” trophy explained.
knife then got up from trophy’s chest and threw a punch to his face. earning a yelp out of the surprised award.
“what the fuck was that for!” trophy exclaimed.
knife shrugged, “you asked for it.”
trophy furrowed his eyebrows, “i….”
knife smirked, “hm?”
“oh, shut up.” trophy said as he slapped knife on the face.
knife chuckled softly, “there’s the trophy i know.”
trophy became flustered at his words a bit. a light tinted rose color rose to his cheeks as he looked away.
“knife.”
the blade rose an eyebrow while keeping a smirk.
trophy tilted his head. still avoiding eye contact.
“i want you so bad.” he confessed.
there was a silent pause.
“i genuinely mean it to you. i was terrible for how much i disregarded your feelings. honestly, it was hilarious watching how pathetic you were under me, but i know how bad i was. you’re great for changing for the better and all, but i just love seeing how much of a brute you are.”
silence remained in the room.
then knife chuckled, “and, what’s this for?”
“a proper apology.” trophy blushed.
“i already told you. im here for you now. you don’t have to apologize for anything.” knife replied.
trophy sighed, “i just don’t think apologizing will ever make up for the damage i did. especially for your leg.”
“you’re changing, and that’s all that matters. is that what you want me to say?” knife asked.
“i don’t really know what i want you to say. considering that you aren’t real.” trophy responded.
knife just rolled his eyes. “well, if you don’t know what you want me to say. why don’t you apologize to knife, himself?”
trophy scoffed, “ugh, i’ll look so pathetic. i don’t wanna look weak.”
“trophy, apologizing doesn’t make you look weak. if anything, you’ll even look braver for bringing yourself to even say something to show remorse.”
“the only thing pathetic about you is how consistent you are when it comes to your masculinity. you put others down so you can boost your little ego. yeah, you can make a few jokes about others for fun but its gonna get to a point.”
trophy just hummed in response. he’s gotten that feedback everytime. he just doesn’t budge to actually use it.
knife continued to talk but the words were tuned out in trophy’s head. all he could think about was how talking to knife personally would feel like. maybe he knew trophy stopped being such a bully, but he didnt know how trophy really did feel for knife. it was more than trophy’s big ego. he didn’t even know if these feelings were created by mephone4 or just trophy building up thoughts inside of him but he just yearned for someone. maybe he was just a sore loser.
“trophy.”
trophy looked back at knife, who was snapping his fingers to his face.
“you with me?” knife asked.
“y-yeah, just tired.” trophy replied.
“i think it's about time you rest. take a break from all this grieving.” knife kissed trophy and laid back on his chest.
trophy yawned, “alright.”
the two fell asleep a few minutes later. i wonder how the day after will go.