[Relationship between you and Deimos has been kept vague for an easier self-inserting process.]
6/5/2024: Can't believe it's been almost a year, I didn't even realize. This is really cringeworthy in my opinion, but I'm republishing it for a friend and the sake of archiving. Whatever, I'll write something better some other day.
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23/5/2023: YO. Okay just gotta clarify like 70% of the dialogue consists of lyrics, so it might be a bit confusing. It's why I told you to listen to the actual song lolol.
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You sat and waited, tapping your foot on the floor and staring into the subway's window. The place was empty, terrifyingly empty and...rather clean. Everything about Nevada is either bloodshed or clean, but only in the depressing corporate way that simply works to make you feel small. Something so complex yet so bland. Something you don't want to get used to.
The subway was entirely automated. Before it all went to shit, subways and metros and all that weren't completely machine-operated. There were drivers, there were people, there was life. But now that changed.
The A.A.H.W. really took over. Due to how Nevada basically became a dystopia, everything became automatic. You rely on yourself, your technology, and weaponry now. It was all so empty. So quiet. So violent. So... So dead!
There's something beautiful and tragic in the fallout. It was all so empty but calming. Yet so cold. Yet so horrifying. Being left alone with your own paranoia and thoughts. It's tragic how everything you came to know and love changed, and changed for the worse.
But those were just the pros and cons of breathing.
The subway came to a sharp stop, shaking you slightly. You got up and went to the door, waiting for it to open. Stepping outside and onto the floor of the metro, the subway immediately rushed past you to wherever its next destination was. The place was massive, yet closed up. Blank, unnerving.
You walked around aimlessly. You tried to find an exit or directions, but you felt rather safe in a closed building. You kept searching around, surprised there's nothing similar to a guide here, but kept wandering.
A weird scent filled the building, and you were pretty sure you started to hear things. It creeped you out and didn't make the paranoia of getting shanked by a rando any better.
"C'mon, little mouse. I know you're 'round here." An almost familiar voice rang out in the metro, followed by what seemed to be a chuckle. The voice was used, hoarse leaning on rather deep. You paused dead in your tracks, and cringed. Both physically and metaphorically. Little mouse? The hell?
Tom over here seemed to be after you, chasing you or just...looking for you, intent unclear, but most likely malicious. Quickly, your legs sped pace, and so did your thoughts. Being left alone with your own imagination truly was one of the scariest concepts to be comprehended by the human brain.
You were so distracted that you managed to bump face-first into something. It was soft and warm, yet firm. Almost comforting. You reluctantly pulled away and looked up, only for your jaw to drop and your face to...possibly heat up, depending on how your body functions.
A smirking face greeted you, cigarette dangling between razor sharp teeth, and a cocked eyebrow with amused eyes. You had just bumped into some guy's chest face-first, and you stayed there for...much longer than the average period of in which someone would recoil upon a bump.
The figure was tall. Too tall. Approximately over 185 centimeters...or 6'2 feet for you Americans. His figure was lean, yet muscular. Broad-shouldered and darkly clothed, reeking of tobacco and cheap perfume...cologne? Same thing. He looked unsuspecting on the outside, though had a glint of mischief that showed his intentions.
"Heh, hey. How'd you like it?" He said, obviously referring to your little incident with his...chest, for lack of better wording. He chuckled after that, deep and dark, full of danger. He had a habit of chuckling, expressing himself with small fits of laughter, usually amused by something trivial, stupid, or morbid.
You took a step to the back, still facing him. And he took one towards you, that same amused look on his face. You took one back, he took one forward. One back, one forward, one back, one forward.
"Oh come on," and the way he calls for your name next. It shakes you to your core, what that means depends on who you are. It made you stop, the man in front of you had full control over you. You couldn't move, and you knew if you could move you're sure it would be only to crawl back to him.
"I hate the way you say my name," You hissed, earning a look of small surprise from the man in front of you. "like it's some sort of secret..." You continued, narrowing your eyes at him, knowing that you saying this was a half-lie from you. You kept walking backwards now, a bit of panic setting in.
The look of miniscule surprise subsided, replaced with a relaxed smirk. Half-lidded eyes, taking his cigarette from his mouth, indicating he's once again about to fire and speak.
"Y'know," he started, tapping the cigarette relaxed in-between his index and middle fingers with his thumb, some of it fell onto the ground of the sleek station in the form of ash. "I stood on roofs, sideways, all that stuff — well, most of 'em were Agency owned, heh — and tried to see you forgetting all about me... A-And tried...but couldn't." He said quietly, his smirk had already shifted into a tired smile as he looked at his cigarette, then shifted his gaze to you. "'m honestly shocked you never asked what happened there 'n' stuff—"
"Hide the details, I don't want to know a thing" You snapped at him. You couldn't decide if you wanted to keep disliking him or just give into him. And honestly you were also tempted to ask him what happened but had too much pride...most likely in more than one way. "Remind me which side you should be on?" He asked, the smirk in his voice unmissable. A question leaning on rhetoric at this point.
And with that, your foot took another step back, turned around, and booked it. The tiny hint of amusement on his face grew into a full smirk as he ran after you, this was officially a chase.
He was awfully quick for a smoker with lungs most likely made of pure charcoal at this rate. His long legs and tall figure didn't make it any easier for you, and the fact he was his team's quickest made it even better...for him.
He caught up to you, grabbing you by the shoulder, pulling you into his chest once again as he tackled you onto the ground. The fall was soft as you landed on him, back to where you started, buried face-first in his torso.
He chuckled at your little predicament. It was almost charming how he managed to somehow keep his spirits high and playful in the situations he's been put in and continues to find himself in. It's either very good positivity or extreme carelessness...and now that it's said — erm, well, written — it's definitely the latter. Yet even with his little laugh his voice kept the same dark aura.
You got up instantly from him, embarrassed once again. Standing up, you turned around and started heading away before something grabbed you by both shoulders and spun you around, arm behind your back to pull you in, under and close. You were now face-to-face with him, like an up close and personal special of a nature documentary on a fucking animal, because to you these two were the same at this rate. Animalistic, sadistic, and sharp teeth that could rip right through you and directly into your heart — to which I believe, as your narrator, doubt you have, you fucking edgelord — both literally and metaphorically, but knowing him it'd be the last.
"Woah..." He said, looking at you closely, eyeing you up and down.
"I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself." You admitted in a low growl, which earned you a dark chuckle.
He suddenly pulled you closer until you were mere inches apart from the figure towering over you. He dropped the cigarette from his mouth and onto the floor, and as a reflex you quickly moved your leg back so the cigarette wouldn't fall on it and dirty your clothes, or burn through the material.
"Know that I could crush you with my voice..." He said into your ear. If you wanted to play that game, he sure won it with his words, coming off as a low growl from the back of his throat. Deep and hoarse, rough yet smooth.
Your eyes widened. In that moment, you were weak. You knew you were weak. Your knees shook, and you were extremely wobbly. He had an effect on you, an addictive one at that. You could pretend all you want...but you wanted this more.
He let go. You stumbled backwards to catch yourself as you didn't expect this, and almost fell backwards twice in the process. What a catch.
"I'll letchu go, just 'cause I love you..." He mumbled the last part out quietly, followed by him lighting yet another cigarette with that thumb of his.
You started to walk away and put your hands in your pockets as you looked down until you noticed something in the left one and stopped. Your hand quickly fished for it and brought it to your face.
"wish that i was as invisible as u make me feel" was written in rather neat hand-writing, only made messy thanks to the smudge of the ink used to write and how crumpled the paper was. Next to the sentence was a little heart, alongside a number under the sentence.
Deimos' number.
You turned around, only for Deimos to have disappeared. Leaving only the sound of footsteps to echo in the empty metro, Deimos' footsteps. You were now alone with your thoughts once again, and this paper.
But those were just the pros and cons of breathing.
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Words: 1619.
Proud of this one. Missed this fucker.
Not.