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Eddy went to sleep on the couch that night, after starting the laundry. Going to bed would wake Brett, and that would only make it worse. Besides, he didn't really want to be with Brett in that moment.

Brett had heard Eddy's breakdown last night. He had heard the soft sobs, the desperate whispers of "I can't do this". He should have knocked on that door, should have wrapped his arms around Eddy, should have told him it would be fine. His palm had rested on that door handle for a long time before he chickened out. He was the reason Eddy was feeling like this, and the thought of it made him want to puke. He caused Eddy to have a breakdown and not even come ask for reassurance ir even a hug.
You're hurting him. He would be better off without you. He deserves better than you treating him like some kind of maid.

When he woke up the next morning and found Eddy sleeping on the couch, he didn't know what to do with himself. He had gone back to bed, hoping Eddy would come back to lie down with him. That was his plan, to be sure to wrap his arms extra tightly around him as an apology. Instead, he fell asleep waiting.
Now he was staring at him lying there on the couch with a blanket wrapped around himself, feeling his breathing accelerate and heart rate go up. Eddy didn't want to come to bed last night. He had fucked up. His heart rate sped up even more and he felt tears pressing on. The panic set in and he felt the need to get out of there. He had to go. Now.

Eddy woke up to the sound of the front door slamming shut, and he sat up on the couch, confused.
"Brett?" he asked, feeling his throat being sore from the crying last night. No reply. He threw the blanket he had around himself to the side and stood up.
"Brett?!" he called out, louder this time, but the only sound he heard was the echo of his own voice bouncing off the walls. He reached for his phone to check the time. Half past seven. Why on earth would Brett need to head out at this hour? He unlocked the phone and quickly called Brett. There was probably some kind of explanation for him heading out at this hour. Eddy hoped there was some kind of explanation.

Hours passed and the knot in Eddy's stomach grew heavier the longer it took for him to come home. He lost count of how many times he had called, all leading to the sound of Brett's cheery voice explaining how voicemail works. The sound of it made Eddy feel sick. He hadn't heard it like that in weeks, and it only reminded him of how little he was able to help Brett.

As the sun was setting, Eddy decided to go out and look for him. He didn't care about the dark clouds luring in the distance or the sharp wind as he went from one place he thought Brett might be to another. It was nearing midnight when he went into the park he had found himself after running away before Eddy admitted to his lie. He sunk down on the bench he had been sitting on the last time, feeling tears running down his cheeks as the rain started to pour from the dark clouds over his head.
"Fuck", he sobbed to himself, hiding his face in his hands. He didn't know what to do at this point. What if Brett had hurt himself?
Eddy gave up when the rain picked up speed, and he headed home. He didn't dare to hope that Brett had gotten home safely, knowing he'd probably be disappointed.

"H... Hey..." Brett said quietly as Eddy entered their home. Eddy was drenched, shivering and scared, but all of that was forgotten when he saw his fiancé sitting on the couch he had woken up on hours ago. He just stared at him in disbelief.
"I'm.. Uh.. Home?" Brett tried, fiddling with the sleeve of what Eddy recognized as his sweater, seeing how big it was on him.
Brett stood up and went over to give Eddy a hug, but Eddy pushed him firmly away, seemingly snapping back to the real world as he did.
"Don't fucking touch me", Eddy whispered, trying to sound tough. Brett took a step back, and placed his arms tightly around himself instead.
"Sorry", he mumbled, tilting his head down.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Eddyy demanded, trying to make his voice work for him, but failing miserably. He wanted to break down and cry right there and then, from relief and from frustration.
"Just... Out?" Brett replied, not really daring to meet Eddy's intense eyes. He already knew it was stupid to run off like that, which was why he came home. He didn't need Eddy to tell him that.
"I thought you'd done something stupid Brett, that you'd gone out to kill yourself or something", Eddy said, tears stinging his eyes again and running down his cold cheeks. "Did you ever fucking think about how much I fucking worry about you, Brett?" His voice crescendoed into shouting at the end, and Brett made himself as small as he possibly could. He closed his eyes as if he waited for Eddy to slap him or something, as he'd never seen his fiancé this agitated before. He didn't answer as he didn't know what to say.

"I can't live like this, Brett. Please get some help. Please", Eddy said, quieter now. Their eyes locked together, and Brett took another step back.
"I... I'm... I'm fine...", Brett stuttered after a long silence. "I feel a lot better, I promise."
Eddy wanted to scream when he heard Brett's reply, but he kept it to a mental scream. He shook his head slowly before removing the golden ring from his finger and handing it to Brett slowly.
"I can't live like this, Brett. I literally fucking can't. I love you, Brett, and I'll gladly take it back when you see a therapist."
Brett's heart fell down into his stomach and his breathing got shallow.
"Eddy, please", he whimpered, following him with his eyes as he walked past him.
"I'll have a shower and sleep in the studio tonight, if that's alright with you. Let me know if you need help making an appointment tomorrow."

And then he left Brett standing alone in their living room as if he was frozen in place, the ring still resting heavily in his hand.

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