The Horrors Of Which My Past Has Haunted Me (Darkiplier/Damien x Reader)

Dentro la mia Testa

Just as he said, everything in that room that belonged to me was moved into his room, which also included me. The room looked untouched once it was done, the bathroom all fixed up and the bed made pristinely. Everything in the room was so prim and perfect.

But only because I would be taken out of it. Mark left me to sit in the bed and finish cleaning myself up while he did everything himself.

I now follow closely behind mark, my scabbing arms crossed uncomfortably as I do. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us as the soft sounds of our footsteps echo softly of off the hardwood floors, going through the grandiose household to reach his room. I hadn't realized it was this big, with winding, confusing hallways and many different rooms. There wasn't any way I could remember where we started or how to get back there from here. How was it possible to live in something this big and not get lost every time you had to navigate it?

"M-mark?" I speak softly, still feeling scrambled from what happened earlier. He felt so intimidating but even the thought of him leaving me put me in a panic. I just don't know how to feel. The only thing I know is that I need to trust him, even after all of that. I'm honestly too afraid not to trust him.

The unknown is terrifying, and sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who doesn't know anything.

He doesn't turn back to me, just continues his pace. His voice is untempered, without any emotion. "Yes, (Y/n)?"

I actually didn't know what to say. I just wanted to break this god awful silence. I stay silent for a moment, my eyes aimed down to the ground.

"A-are you mad at me?" I almost whisper out the words.

Mark stops walking. I do too. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his body holding slight tension. "No." He starts to walk again.

"Mark...it seems like you're upset with me.."

"I'm not upset." He finally stops and turns to me, his eyes serious as they look into mine. I examine over his face and his body, landing back on his eyes once more. "I just... I just wish I didn't have to fight for your trust so hard. I know you're going though a lot, but I'm all you have anymore."

I bite my lip softly, noticing the look of hurt in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mark. I didn't mean to hurt you." I move forward, closing in the space between us. "I do trust you, and I won't make you fight for it ever again, okay?" I smile reassuringly, putting my hand on his cheek softly.

He sighs and closes his eyes, leaning into my hand softly and holding it there for a moment. When he opens his eyes again they're much calmer. "Okay." His voice doesn't seem to have its ordinary singsong vibe, falling to a low, rumbly timbre. It reminds me of what he was like when we were in college, before any of this had even started. He nods softly and takes my hand into his. "The room at the end is ours."

I nod softly and let him lead me to the room, his hand still holding mine.

When he opens the door, the brilliance of the room is exposed before me. While the room before was luxurious, this one was rather over the top. The ceiling, which was a rich black, was coffered and had wood embellishments and carvings all around the beams and edges. The walls were a deep red and the room felt huge. The bed seemed huge, with a red and black comforter that matched the design of the ceiling and room. It almost reminded me of some sort of dark cathedral. The floor was an obsidian oak, and almost matched the black, full grand, Steinway piano in the corner.

My body felt like it moved itself as I practically floated to the piano. All is silent as I set myself down on the bench and look over the beautiful keys with pure happiness. I press a D minor seventh chord to test if it's in tune, then smile. My fingers lift to the piano, and softly start playing on their own. My favorite piece of all time, Clair De Lune by Debussy.

My eyes close as I play, feeling the cold keys against my fingers as they weightily play. I only play the first phrase, but the feeling of the warm music filled my soul in ways I can't even describe. It felt like the gift of vitality to a rotting tree.

"Do you remember how I used to tell you your hands looked like spiders when you played?" He smirks and leans against the crook of the slightly opened lid. It's like he pulls me out of a hypnotism, my eyes meeting his as he speaks. "I'm glad to know you haven't lost your musicality."

I let out a small chuckle, giving him a kind smile and standing up. I admire the view of the strings behind the stand before looking back to him. "I love this Mark." I walk over to him, giving him a tight hug as soon as I make it near him. He softly hugs back, letting out a kind chuckle. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, love." His voice is back to its deeper shade, reminding me of what it used to be like with him once upon a time. My cheeks turn a light shade of pink and an uncertainty fills my heart as I look back up to him.

"Anything?" I whisper out.

"Anything." He smiles softly, and for the first time it actually feels like I'm talking to him. Mark. My Mark. The one who would bring me coffee in the middle of a final in college.The one who would jump into a river just because he could. The one who sat with me all night when I couldn't get a hold of Damien after my parents died. This was the Mark I knew. The person who was there throughout everything. I could do no wrong by him. I would do anything to make sure Mark wouldn't change back to whoever he was being. Whatever person that haunted over me and struck me with fear just an hour ago.

I'm desperate for him to stay this way.

I softly let go, hating the fact that I'm so desperate for contact. That I'm so weak and that I require so much. Hating that I feel so weak right now.

"Are you hungry, (y/n)?" He breaks me from my thoughts, tuning back into the real world as he looks over me. "I can make us something to eat if you'd like."

"I'm not. I'm actually...kind of tired.." I look up to him with a sad smile, his eyes filling with worry as they look into mine.

"You've been sleeping a lot recently." He speaks slowly, his voice warm and worried. "And you haven't eaten much, if at all." He looks me over, making me notice my own frail physique. My body felt like it was thinner, or at least felt like it was a bit more sunken in. I cross my arms a bit insecurely, as if I could hide the evidence. "I think you may need to eat something, (Y/n)."

A silence filled the room for a moment.

"Okay."