Depraved • C.H

No Matter What

Corpse woke up to an empty bed.

He lazily reached his hand out in attempt to pull Indigo's warm body closer to his, but he found only a fistful of his comforter. His heart immediately dropped, even half asleep he knew what this meant, as much as he hoped she just slipped into the other room, the sick feeling growing in his stomach knew better; she was officially gone.

He was tempted to send her a million messages, blow up her phone, but his chest felt like it was caving in, and his arms ached, seemingly too heavy to move. He stared up at the ceiling, watching patterns and shapes align in the textures until his vision went blurry, glazing over with tears. Every bit of him ached, he wished he could melt into his mattress, being a person was so exhausting, but being a person with emotions was miserable.

He sunk back under the covers, closing his eyes in attempt to stop the uncomfortable burning sensation. His body shook, feeling painstakingly alone, the only thing that put his silent sobbing to a halt was a sudden yawn, he wasn't ready to deal with the world, everything hurt too much, he allowed the residual sleepiness return fully until it pulled him back into a deep sleep.

"Indigo?" Corpse spoke, but for some reason his tone was so low it could hardly even be considered a whisper. He watched as the curly headed girl disappeared into a sea of people. He couldn't tell where he was, it resembled somewhat of a ball, he was surrounded by seemingly wealthy strangers. He was certainly underdressed in comparison to the rest of the party-goers, but he wasn't in his normal clothes, instead they were plain grey, with no mask or hoodie, he was uncomfortably vulnerable, but he tried ignoring the feeling. He just needed to get back to her, why was she leaving?

He shoved his way through people, following her muddled path, he was almost convinced he'd lost her until he found her, standing alone in an unfamiliar room, gazing out the window. She had her hair pinned back in a way he'd never seen before, elegantly tied back into a silky bun, with a few curls falling to the front and small flowers scattered throughout. She was clothed in a long pearl colored gown, embellished with sequins and crystals.

"Indigo? Can you stop walking away from me, we need to talk". he said, but gained no response, instead she turned to the door, exiting the same way he entered.

This time he wouldn't let her go, he followed her down an empty hall, away from the main attraction. "Stop ignoring me"

"Go away, Corpse". She sighed, maintaining her pace as she strutted across the corridor , heels clicking against the marble floors.

He wasn't going.

Instead he stayed at her side, trying to bargain her attention. "I love you". He spoke clearly, and for once without any fear.

"Leave".

He wouldn't, even if the world depended on it.

"Stop saying that, tell me what I did, whatever it is, I'm sorry".

"Oh you"re sorry?" She scoffed, refusing to even glance at him; "You're the worst person I have ever met, you're inconsiderate, immature, and just generally not someone I want to know, so go".

Her words stung, but he endured the pain, refusing to leave. The hallway seemed to trail on as long as their conversation did, passing endless doors.

"I won't leave you".

"But you already did, countless times... when I needed you, you left. Now I don't give a fuck and here you are, chasing me down as always, you're so selfish".

"I know, but I can fix it, alright? I'm sorry". He felt tears glaze over his eyes, but he didn't care about his pride, or running from embarrassment, he needed to stay with her no matter what.

"You can't".

"I'm trying".

"That's not good enough, dealing with you is exhausting, I am exhausted, you're just making everything worse".

This hurt. It felt like his heart was being torn from his chest. Her words always stung, but they were nothing new, he'd heard this all before. The worst part is that he was helpless, he couldn't change her mind, or even make her stop and look at him. It was over and he knew it.

There was no healing what was between them, it was painfully obvious, but somehow that didn't matter to him, because as long as he stayed by her side like he promised he would there was still a chance.

Maybe in his dreams he'd follow her forever, trailing down an endless hallway to an unknown destination, holding onto her insults as all that he had left, but real life was different, worse somehow.

Corpse once again woke up, alone, in an empty bed, a bed that now felt far too big for one person. Something, or more so someone was missing.

Tears soaked his face and hair, curls sticking to his skin. He felt nauseous, sick in the same way he did the day before discovering he had the flu. His head was spinning and every inch of him ached.

He was riddled with regret, he should've stayed, he should've told her how much he needed her, how much he cared, but now it was too late.

He didn't doubt that Indigo was the one, he was obsessed with her from their first conversation to their last, and while obsession was never healthy, he loved her. The unloveable, and unloving man loved her, unconditionally, and despite everything, she felt the same, but sometimes... no, most times love just isn't enough.