𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝜊𝑛¹

he doesn't know but who does?

Kevin's eyes sparkled as they watched me, his teeth firmly set into his burger as he listens to me telling him an embarrassing story from my childhood.

He laughs wholeheartedly at me after swallowing his bite before grinning, "So you were always clumsy then?"

"Yeah, were you always such a messy eater?"

He shot me a puzzled look, to which I just laughed, "You've got some food on you right there."
I point toward the spot of ketchup his cheek, which he tries and fails to wipe away. It's my turn to laugh at him now as I reach over; wiping his cheek myself. The look he gives me as I do makes my eyes drift anywhere other than toward his face.
"You're hopeless Kevin."

I know it's hypocritical for me to have feelings for him after getting jealous over Craig moving on but I can't help it, he makes me feel things I probably shouldn't be feeling in public.
The worst part though? He's utterly clueless.

"Thanks." He grinned, stuffing more of his burger into his mouth. I smile, wiping my hand before taking a small bite of my own.

"You know you really are like my carer at this point, I'm gonna forget how to function soon if you keep doing everything for me." He pauses to take another bite of his food, "Not that I'm complaining, I love getting the chance to be lazy."
He shoots me another cheesy grin, though it doesn't seem entirely genuine, it falters slightly.

I scoff, "Well hopefully when you go to the doctors next week he'll tell you that you don't need supervision anymore and I'll be out of your hair."

"You were never in my hair?" He joked, pulling a mock confused face, running a hand through his hair then looking at it afterwards to prove his point, I could've sworn for a second his hand was trembling, but it couldn't be, that wasn't right. I was seeing things.

I exhale out my nose in amusement, I usually can't help but laugh out loud at Kevin's jokes but the idea that I wouldn't have to be there looking after Kevin anymore made me feel a little sick.

I didn't feel like eating anymore, what would I do? Where would I go? I don't have a job or any friends in Ireland, I was screwed.

And as if he'd read my mind, "seriously though it's not like you're in my way or anything, I love having you at the apartment. It's nice not being alone for once you know?"

"Yeah, but I can't lean on you forever Kevin."

He frowns, "you realise you're helping me right?" He points between the two of us to emphasise his point, "Plus, it's not like you have anywhere else to go...wait, sorry that came out wrong."

"No, you're right Kevin. I have nothing here, no one. There's no point me even being in Ireland once you get better."

//Kevin//

"You can't be serious, you're thinking about leaving the country!?" I raise my voice a little too loud, gaining an odd look from a few people in the restaurant but I don't really care. She can't leave. She just can't. I also can't really control my emotions right now, the pain shooting through my arm is making me a little short-tempered, just a little.

"I don't really have a choice, Kevin. I don't have anywhere to live! I've got no source of income, what did you expect?"

I frown, what did I expect? That she'd just move in with me, without discussion? That just one day I'd realise she probably wasn't leaving? Of course she'd leave, she's got nothing to stay for, her words.

"I-I don't know y/n! How am I supposed to know!?" I stammer because it's true, I don't know.

She scoffs, shaking her head softly, she looks like she wants to cry, "are you nearly done? I don't feel like staying out anymore."

I look down at the half-eaten burger on her plate but decide not to comment on the fact that I'm pretty sure it's all she's eaten all day, instead just nodding and paying for the food.

The drive home was awkward, I don't know if she doesn't notice or simply doesn't care when I wince at every speed bump we pass over or how my hand reaches up to grab my shoulder before I can stop it each and every time. She collapses on the couch as soon as we get into the apartment, I make my way to my office.

I finish editing the video I'd recorded earlier in the day and post it. I look for new games to play for an hour, selecting a few for future videos before turning back to the video I'd posted and looking at the comments. I knew they wouldn't be the best, I knew what I was in for.

'Kevin are you okay???' 1 reply 6 likes 0 dislikes

'He looks like he's dying.' 0 replies 2 likes 3 dislikes

'There's no way he's "just tired", he looks sick.' 8 replies 30 likes 5 dislikes

'Tired Kevin? More like Bore: Ragnarok...seriously though Kevo, take a break' 12 replies 28 likes 8 dislikes

'Did anyone else notice the way he winced at 08:56?' 11 replies 16 likes 1 dislike

I swallowed hard, they could tell, of course they could. Who was I kidding? Clearly not my audience.
Closing the YouTube browser I decided to see what people on Reddit were saying.
There were already a few screenshots of me with my eyes 3/4 closed from the video and a few other low effort memes. I scrolled past those when a post caught my eye titled, 'We need to talk about Kevin.'

I sigh, the image is a screenshot of the Notes app, I slouch in my seat slightly as I begin to read:

'I love Kevin,
in fact, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be alive without him so I have a lot to thank him for. His daily uploads are one of the only things that keep me going, but he needs to stop.
I'm sure we can all agree he looked awful in his most recent video
and it's clear his heart wasn't really in it. He wasn't laughing at his own jokes, he could barely even keep his eyes open. And he wasn't just tired, he looked like he was in pain, or ill at the very least.
I don't know what's going on in his personal life but he needs time away to fix it.
I hope he reads this and realises it's okay to step back for a while.

And Kevin, it's okay to ask for help.'

There weren't many comments on the post yet but most of them were theories on why I was so tired or sickly looking, the most popular of course being depression. It made sense I guess. I didn't know what to do. I hate making them worry but I didn't really want to tell 2 million stranger's that I got beat up by the girl-I'm-in-love-with's ex.

Not that I'm in love with her.

Not that it would matter if I was.