▬▬ 𝖂hen Y/N had her fill, Hockney tried to attempt talking to her, but this time he didn't bring up work. He knew little, but he knew that talking about her day at work seemed to put her off.
"You know I'm too drunk to talk right now..." she muttered, her face down on the counter. The liquid most likely got to her lightweight state.
By now, David was less than done. He's done dealing with his roommate, yes, but he doesn't have the heart to leave her on the counter like a mess.
Before leaving the mess of a girl in the kitchen, he left to get a pillow and blanket for her. The male placed the pillow beside her resting form (in case she needed something to hug whilst sleeping) and a blanket over her tired form. Once the artist's satisfied by his work, he left the girl and headed to his room.
The fair skinned man was about to head to bed as well, exhausted by not knowing anything, but he didn't push through it just to respect a dear friend. Out of nowhere, his phone rang. He took out his phone from his signature blue coat and opened the screen; he's met with a notification from an app called Emily.
Lately there's been an app going around named "Emily". It's a self-proclaimed intelligent chatting bot made by the Acorn Workshop. It's said to be knowledgeable in a lot of things and it's good at predicting certain scenarios. And because of the wild claims surrounding the app, the artist followed the curious crowd then downloaded the app along with them.
His breath hitched at the sight of the notification. He didn't expect to get a message from Emily around 12am.
He hasn't even used the app yet, but it got him thinking, should he use the app to figure out what's up with Y/N? And to figure out who was the anonymous sender to that random letter?
The artist pressed the notification, and it led him to a newly made chatroom. Emily messaged him, saying she knew where Hockney's painting was. Finally, his soul can be complete.
Shock overcame him. He has told no one about the painting he held onto so dearly, not even Y/N. But he knew one thing, he had to take the bait right in front of him, if it was a trap or not.
Ever since he met the aggressive blacksmith, and he got a roof over his head, he's tried his best to gain information regarding the mysterious letter and his painting yet he got no leads. This message from Emily is the first lead he's gotten in years and he was not willing to let go of it.
The scout is well aware of how it's a 50-50. It could be a trap, or it could be a genuine lead. Hell! It can both be a trap and a genuine lead.
Regardless of it being a trap or not, he needed every lead just so he can get that painting back, rather get his soul back. He needed to feel complete again, and no one was stopping him from doing so. At least, he won't let anyone stop him from feeling complete again.
As if on cue, a group of metal objects crashed onto the floor.
When he heard the noise, he quickly threw his phone on the mattress and grabbed his lantern and headed to where the sound came from; The sound came from the kitchen, wherein a certain horned girl slept. Which heightened the painter's guard and his attention with his surroundings.
He made haste towards the kitchen. He took a turn and readied himself to apprehend the thing that made the uninvited noise. But he's met with a Y/N sprawled out on the floor, decorated with utensils, pans, and pots. He doesn't know how she got the pans and the pots, but he is certain that the blacksmith is half awake.
"I really miss you, Hoh." the drunk girl mumbled as she tried to reach out for Hockney. Obviously mistaking her roommate for her dead little brother.
"You know," a sad smile appears on Y/N's drunk face. "I kinda like and hate being alone. Being alone is kinda like how much you hate and love me."
The drunk blacksmith's words confused Hockney. It sounded more like a confession than her admitting her fear of the dark. But he shook it off, knowing that Y/N has a weird way of admitting certain emotions. Rather, she's terrible at expressing herself.
"I'm sorry I left you with no family. The only reason I left is because the tower chose me."
"You probably hate me by now..." A bitter laugh left the drunk girl's lips, which caught the male's attention. Neither of them has said anything funny, yet she began laughing out of nowhere. Which obviously piqued his curiosity.
"Who the hell am I kidding? You hate me."
A heavy feeling began sinking into the artist's heart. Guilt finally awakening from its dormant state and now reminding its host that he shouldn't be listening to her slurred words and he should say something to deny her claims instead.
"But then again, I can't blame you for hating me. Mom and Dad left us by ourselves and I had to take care of you, but ever since, the seer found out about my future. The best warriors of our clan trained me to the bone."
"I didn't have the time to take care of you."
"I'm such a terrible sister, aren't I?" The drunk girl ended a sad smile along with tears streaming down her face.
"I'm not sure if you can hear me, Y/N, but I'll let you in on something. I know you aren't a bad person as other people made you out to be." Hockney shared as his pale hands tried to tame down the blacksmith's wild baby hairs and tears.
"If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have put a roof over my head nor tried to help me out with my problems. And for that, I love you." The artist admitted, as his unique eyes stared at her scarred face endearingly.
"I mean, not love-love, just platonic love, ya know?" He corrected himself, then awkwardly coughed before continuing. "I don't care for you just because I know I can benefit from you. I care for you because I know you care for me as much."
"So please, Y/N. Let me help you." He lent his roommate a helping hand.
Unfortunately, no matter how many hands Hockney lent over to his roommate, she will never hear it because she's too busy reliving the past.
In the horned girl's head, there was a vivid dream sequence. Her head unconsciously retells the tale of her trauma and lets her relive it once more. Every death from the past cost her once joyful E/C orbs, which became duller and duller as she watched her friends die.
The more she watched, the more she realized she was within their reach; She could have saved them from dying in White's hands, yet she failed to do so.
What the hell did the seer see in a failure like her? Y/N wasted all those years of training. Not only did she fail her clan, she failed to use her abilities to save the people she loved.
As the realization dawned on her, the sun rose from its slumber. The sunrays tickling her face, insisting that the drunk girl wakes up. Once her E/C eyes revealed themselves to the sunrays, followed by her memories from the night before.
She quickly decided that, to avoid hurting the people she loves, she'll avoid them to save them from her curse.
▬▬ 𝕱𝐢𝐧. 𝕮𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 5
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♡ㅤㅤ ≡ ㅤ➭ㅤ ㅤ⌂
ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉ