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sweetnestor · 7 years

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Stone Cold | december pt. 1

university au + platonic + romantic + angst, teamiplier + jack

sequel to: Story of Another Us | also on ao3 | previous chapter

WARNING: suicide mentions

Bella’s song choices: Good Enough by Little Mix, How to Save a Life by The Fray

It was finally cold enough to constantly wear long sleeves and hoodies. I was finally able to comfortably live in every sweater I owned, and purchase plenty more. It also meant that I didn’t have to cover my wrists with ridiculous amounts of makeup anymore. I could breathe properly for the next few months.

“You’re telling me,” Helena said in surprise when I was in her office that week, “Jack doesn’t know about your suicide attempt?”

I shook my head. “I thought Mark would have told him while I was being treated, but when I found out that he didn’t, I asked him to keep it that way.”

Helena’s brows furrowed as she jotted it down. “I see. And as far as you know, Mark has kept that promise?”

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t doubt it if he told his… Amy.”

“Okay. Well, in other words, you haven’t talked about your attempt outside of this office?”

“Nope. It’s not really something you can just casually bring up at the dinner table,” I said.

“Yes, I understand,” Helena said. “However, you haven’t felt the need to talk about it with a friend? More specifically, Jack?”

I began to tap my foot anxiously. Usually, I just pretend like that whole fiasco never happened. It was easy that way, because then it was easier to forget to tell Jack it even happened. I mean, I had hideous scars on my wrists, stomach, and thighs that made it a little difficult. Sometimes I would relive that night in my sleep. Talking about it made me think about it too much and eventually sent me spiraling. But other than that, it’s like it never happened.

“So there’s this guy in my life,” I blurted out, wanting to move on from this topic.

“Oh?” Helena gestured for me to go on.

That was when I realized I didn’t have much to say. “Um… his name is Ethan. He’s got blue hair. Uh…”

“Where did you meet him?”

“YTU Homecoming. He’s um, he’s sweet.”

“A sweet, blue haired boy named Ethan,” Helena spoke, smiling warmly. “Was he your date?”

“Oh no. I went with Jack, who’s friends with Ethan.”

“Okay. So… do you have a crush on him?”

I thought about Ethan. I did get along with him better than I had anticipated. While I had only spoken to him a few times, and hung out with him once, I found my mind taking a million steps ahead of reality. I wanted to play with his hair more. I wanted to hold his hand and hug him. He’s got an irresistibly adorable face. He’s funny and endearing. I wanted to listen to him talk about nothing. I wanted him to listen to me and… validate my feelings. Or, reciprocate them.

“Shit,” I whispered in realization.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Helena said happily. “Alright, so should we schedule your next appointment?”

I know the word “trigger” is a huge meme on the Internet. It didn’t sit well with me, a person who has many triggers. A lovely little bitch named anxiety kept me from publicly speaking up about it, however. At the same time, because I’ve seen it be used so comically online, I couldn’t say that I was triggered by talk of suicide without wanting to giggle a little bit. You could imagine how hard it was to mention anything that I had done to my only friend.

Since it was mentioned in my therapy session, I felt weird. I hadn’t actively thought about cutting into my veins since the summertime, and now it felt like it was popping up everywhere. I didn’t know what to do except buy more shit online. All I could do was buy the pain away.

To be honest, I didn’t know how to feel that I survived. I couldn’t describe how I felt when I woke up in the hospital. Part of me wanted to jump out the window the first chance I got, but the other part of me had a feeling that it was meant to be this way. Nowadays, I wasn’t really sure why I hadn’t tried to kill myself again. Maybe I wanted to keep making videos. Maybe I wanted more makeup. Maybe it was my followers. I wasn’t happy by any means, but I didn’t exactly have the energy to end my life either.

I didn’t understand. If I’m meant to live on this planet, in this doomed country, in this suffocating city, having a career with a huge platform, shouldn’t I be worthy of it? All my life, I was told over and over again that I was not good enough to be around anyone. My parents didn’t want me, nor did the rest of my relatives. People on the Internet didn’t like me because of my ranty makeup videos. Mark literally broke up with me because Amy was better than me. It was clear, I wasn’t meant to be around anyone, so I tried to die.

But it didn’t work. That should mean something, right? It should mean that I’m meant to stay alive, but did that still apply if I was just an empty shell? Was I supposed to continue functioning like this? Did I have to go on with life carrying this heavy burden? Did I have to find a person and let them love an empty, beating heart? Did I have to continue being a role model even if I was dead inside? Was I meant to stay broken?

Do not fall apart. Swallow the bad feelings. Do not bother anyone with this.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. Why did I always have most of these thoughts in the car? It was like I was in a trance.

I shook myself, trying to clear the thoughts in my head. I sat back in my seat and tried to relieve the tension in my jaw, neck, and shoulders. I couldn’t remember not being tense. It was unnerving and unsettling.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I whispered. Why was it so hard to calm down?

A sudden tap on the passenger window nearly made me scream out. I turned and saw Jack and Ethan standing outside my car. I unlocked the doors and let them in, trying to catch my breath.

“Hey, guys,” I softly greeted as we went off. This was standard daily procedure at this point. I could handle this.

“What’s up?” Jack replied.

“Sah dud,” Ethan sarcastically added.

The small laugh I released took off some tension. Thank you, angel.

“Why are you listening to sad songs?” Jack asked me, adjusting the volume on the radio.

Oh god. Little Mix had the perfect song to throw me into this funk. This band had a song for every mood, I swear.

“I’m a sad person,” I simply told him, which made both boys laugh.

“Listened to their new album yet?” Jack prompted. “I know you love them.”

Who even am I anymore?

“I kind of forgot about that,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Wait, who is this?” asked Ethan.

“Little Mix,” I told him.

“Also known as, Bella’s favorite group,” Jack added, then he looked at me. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard their new album yet! You’re usually on top of this stuff!”

I shrugged, not knowing how to explain my lack of enjoyment in things I normally liked. “I’ll listen when we get home.”

I drove on and kept my sad playlist on. Ethan gave me a nice comment about my interest in Birdy. I really couldn’t remember if I replied to him, but my insides went a little soft at his voice and my stomach filled with butterflies. So I was still capable of other emotions besides sadness, despair, and apathy. Good to know.

“Do you listen to Dodie Clark?” he asked me.

“Not really,” I replied. “She seems very Tumblr-esque.”

“Well, is that bad?” Undertones of defensiveness. Uh oh, he’s definitely going to hate me now.

“Of course not, it’s just not my style.” Save it, save it! “Maybe I should give her music another shot.”

“Here’s an idea!” Jack piped up. “Baller, you listen to Dodie. E-tan, you listen to Little Mix. Then, get back to each other and talk about it.”

He’s trying to get us to interact more. If I didn’t have some type of anxiety-inducing affection for Ethan, then I would be against this. I just didn’t have the guts to take initiative myself.

“I can do that,” the boy said. “What do you think, Bella?”

Well, now I certainly had to.

“Okay. Text me song recommendations, and I’ll send you some.”

“Alright.”

I was thinking of different songs I’d want him to hear. Should I go with the fun ones, or the ones that mean a lot to me? Wings or Secret Love Song, Pt. II? My thought process was interrupted when we got closer to Mark’s office. Again, standard daily procedure.

“Hey,” I said to Ethan as I pulled over to the curb, “does Mark know that I give you rides here?”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder before opening the door. “It’s like you said, he can mind his own business.”

My head was a strange mix of suicide and Ethan. I realize how morbid that sounds, but it was true. They were unrelated to each other, and it was always one or the other. I also wasn’t sure how I felt about either of those things.

Suicide was… an escape route. A sick sense of relief. An emergency exit.

Ethan was… a flashlight. A sense of hope. A breath of fresh air.

But did I only like him because it helped me repress the bad feelings? Did I only do this so I could get over Mark?

Whenever I thought of Mark, I still felt a dull ache in my chest. I still cried when I stalked his social media and watched his videos. I mean it wasn’t as devastating as it was when he first broke up with me, but it wasn’t easy to see him be happy without me, either. I didn’t want it to hurt anymore, but I didn’t want to cost someone else’s feelings in order to get over my own.

How could I be happy again?

I got home with that storm cloud over my head. Jack, the embodiment of sunshine, was excited.

“Can you believe I actually want to listen to this album?” he asked, bouncing his way over to the living room. “Bring on the glory days!”

I cracked a smile. Honestly, what would I do without him?

We sat in the living room, and I played the album on my laptop. I knew Jack wasn’t very into pop music, especially a band like Little Mix, but he was bopping his head to every dancey song. He was more about the beat, while I was about the lyrics.

There was only one soul crushing, tear jerker of a song on this album. It was too real for both me and Jack, so we spent those four minutes and nine seconds crying on the couch. The song after that was happy and upbeat, and ironically, it was called-

“‘No More Sad Songs,’” Jack read off the screen. He wiped his nose and sighed. “That should be our rule.”

I managed to smile. “You know I can’t go on without my sad songs.”

“I know. It’s our song now. We’re broken hearted messes, but we have each other.”

Jack put his arm around me and pulled me close to his side. I lied my head on his shoulder, liking the physical affection. He was very cuddly and comfortable, I couldn’t believe Signe let him go so quickly.

“What are you going to do about Ethan?” he asked after a while.

My stomach did a series of somersaults at the mention of his name. Hearts, fuzzy feelings, and a bout of anxiety went through my chest and all through my veins. I buried my head in Jack’s chest before I blushed too hard.

“Oh, come on,” he said, amused. “Go out with him! He likes you!”

I groaned. Why would he like me? I didn’t understand.

“He’s friends with Mark,” I whined.

“So am I!”

“That’s different!” I said, sitting back up so I could look at him. “You’re my friend, and Mark’s the reason why! I don’t… I don’t want Ethan to be just my friend…” I admitted it, and now those fuzzy hearts were intensifying.

“You say that like it’s such a bad thing,” Jack said. “Who cares if he’s friends with Mark? It’s none of his business what you do with Ethan. Or to him.” He playfully elbowed my side.

My phone, which was on the coffee table, lit up and buzzed suddenly. A new Twitter DM.

“Speak of the devil,” I said, reaching over to grab it.

“What’d he say?” Jack asked. “‘Hey baby, lemme smash.’”

“Shut up.”

I opened the message to find a small list of Dodie Clark songs. “Hope you like these :),” he added in a second message.

“I should probably send him some songs,” I stated, unable to keep down my goofy grin. Or my breathing steady.

“Bella’s got a boyfriend,” he teased.

I blushed and smacked his arm. “¡Ya callate!”

“Seriously, though. I think you guys would be good together. And you can’t stop smiling and your face is red, which means you agree with me.”

I was about to rebuttal with some “I’m too broken” comment, but then Jack’s phone started ringing. We both looked down and saw the name that appeared on the screen. My eyes widened, and then I looked at my friend, who had gone stoic. Just before I could grab his phone for him, he beat me to it. He answered and went off to his room.

I paused the music, deciding to finish the album later. I did look through the Little Mix songs in my library to send to Ethan. My first list was a bit longer than his, but eventually I narrowed it down to eight songs. When I went to send it over Twitter, I saw that he sent me another message.

“Hey, sorry to keep asking this, but can you give me a ride to the office tomorrow?”

I sent my list of songs, and then replied to his request. “Of course! No problem at all!”

His response was rather quick. “Thanks! I get out of class around 12:30, and I’ll listen to these songs right now! :)”

Like I said: fuzzy hearts.

I was a bit more excited about driving to YTU the next day. Conveniently, Jack had to go to campus to record, so I would be dropping him off when I had to pick up Ethan. For once, I had excited butterflies in my stomach, and I didn’t pop a Xanax beforehand. This was good anxiety. It was good, warm emotions that I couldn’t name.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed a little gloomy. He didn’t come out of his room for the rest of the night. I was wondering if I should have brought it up or not. It was always bizarre to see him so down, and I wanted to help him. I just didn’t know how to go about it.

“Gonna be okay?” I asked him as I pulled into the roundabout.

“Yeah, I just need to record,” he replied. “I think better when I record. I might stay for the whole day. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Alright, take your time.”

Jack got out of the car, and I heard him greet someone. I peered out the window and was happy to see Ethan walking out of the main office. I couldn’t help but smile when he got into the passenger seat.

“Have fun kids!” Jack called out to us before I drove off.

Although I was happy to see Ethan, I was still awful at making conversation. I just liked having him here, but I didn’t want to seem rude.

“So, do you love Dodie yet?” he asked.

I chuckled, relieved he had something to talk about. “I actually haven’t had the chance to hear her yet. Have you listened to Little Mix?”

“Only one,” he admitted. “I forgot the name, but it was an acapella one.”

“‘The End!’”

“Yes! I liked that one. They’re really talented.”

“Aren’t they?”

This only made my mood burst. He was open minded, thank god.

We went silent for a little bit, but it was nice. I mean, I was racing through many thoughts, trying to find something to talk about. Why did I have to be like this?

Again, Ethan was the one to break the silence. But what he said sent me nearly spiraling.

“I like you, Bella.”

I didn’t believe it when Jack first told me. Well, I actively chose not to believe it. I spent plenty of time talking myself out of the possibility of Ethan… just Ethan. There was no fucking way he could feel something for me other than pity. There had to be at least one time where he looked at me and thought, “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s a mess and a half.”

But no. Here we were in my car, stuck in LA traffic, the silence following his confession dawning on us. It was probably a bad sign that my first thought was, “Why would the poor boy do that to himself?” At least, that’s what my head said. My heart, however was leaping and crying out, “Oh god yes! Someone likes me! Someone can tolerate me despite that I’m in one of my worst depressive episodes! And he’s actually sweet and understanding and he can take me out of the dark hole my ex threw me in!” How could I do that?

“Please say something,” Ethan spoke nervously.

The car lurched forward an inch, we were definitely going to be here a while. Why did I offer to give him a ride to Mark’s office? Why couldn’t Jack have stayed with me?

“W-We can’t,” I mumbled, unable to look at him.

Ethan was quiet for a moment. “I, uh, had a feeling you were gonna say that… Can I ask why?”

I didn’t want to hurt his sweet little heart. But he asked, and I had no idea where to start, and I didn’t want to tell him that part of me reciprocated these feelings. I had to push it away, and there was only one way I knew how to do that.

“You’re only going to get hurt,” I told him, keeping my eyes on the line of cars. “If we got together, I know that I would be doing it for the wrong reasons… And even then, there’s too much going on in my head for you to keep up with, and… you deserve better than that.”

“Maybe,” Ethan said in thought, “maybe you think that you don’t deserve someone who cares about you. And you don’t have to hide yourself away from me, Bella. I want to know everything.”

That was just making my poorly mended heart bleed more.

“You really don’t,” I said softly.

“I know you have a lot of anxiety,” he pressed, but still sounding gentle, “and I know you’ve been down lately, but it doesn’t have to stay like that. And I know us being together won’t fix that. I just… I care about you too much to let you go through it alone.”

That is until he finds someone normal. I couldn’t let that happen to me again.

“You would get tired,” I warned, “you’d start rolling your eyes when my anxiety acts up. You’ll eventually leave me for someone else.”

That was when it clicked for Ethan. “You’re not over Mark...”

“I’m not over what he did,” I feebly corrected. “I wish I was, though.” Because you’re so good to me, and I don’t want you to be with anyone else but I also don’t want you to carry my burden.

Ethan went quiet again as he sat back. He fiddled with his fingers and then pushed his hair out of his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you…” he muttered. “I understand if you don’t believe that, but… I wouldn’t do that.”

It didn’t really matter if I believed him. He was just very persistent, and he kept fighting everything I was telling him. Why wasn’t he repulsed? How far did I have to go?

“It’s just…” I trailed off, only to take a deep breath. “When you’re mentally ill… everything bad that happens makes you think it’s because you’re mentally ill, and that you can’t have anything good. When Mark left, he told me that it wasn’t because I’m sick. But there’s still a part of me that thinks that if I was normal…” I chose my words a bit carefully at this point, mainly for Ethan’s sake. “...we would have lasted longer. My anxiety makes me believe that the way I am was too much for him. And honestly, I don’t really blame him. I have too much on my plate. I’m too sick and unstable. I can’t have another person put up with me again.”

He didn’t even hesitate. “If you’re trying to say that I won’t be able to ‘handle’ you or that I won’t be able to give you what you need, then you’re seriously underestimating me.”

Why does he make it so fucking hard?

“I… we can’t,” I repeated. “I don’t think I can handle another relationship.”

“Then, I’ll wait. I can--”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. “I tried to kill myself when Mark left.”

Now Ethan didn’t know what to say. Then again, I didn’t know what to expect. I had never told anyone before.

“The day after we broke up,” I continued, slowly losing control of what I was saying, “I decided to die, and I guess I was very loud about it because my neighbor is the one that called the ambulance.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ethan softly mumbled, but I ignored him.

“And because I have no family or close friends - besides Jack, who was far away at the time - they called Mark. He was my only emergency contact. So he stayed with me at the hospital and then stayed at my house a few days after until I was stable again. And then I made him not tell anyone what happened. That’s how fucked up I am, Ethan. I was dependent on him, I made him my last shred of sanity. It wasn’t my family’s rejection that made me suicidal, or the crippling depression, or the frequent biphobia, or the anxiety… it was a stupid break up that pushed me over the edge.”

He was still quiet. He was biting his nails.

The traffic was beginning to let up. I kept my eyes on the road; it forced me to not look at him. I couldn’t make myself say anything more.

It hurt, having to bring up the one thing I swore I’d never speak of. I’d probably regret it later on, but it felt like the thing to do. I had to show Ethan exactly what he was signing up for, and then refuse to let him go any further. I hated it because I did like him, I liked him a lot, but I couldn’t put him through what I put Mark through. It was just another abandonment waiting to happen. I wasn’t over Mark either, like Ethan said. At this moment in time, I’d only be with him to get over my ex, and that wasn’t fair to anyone.

He decided to speak again when we were close to the ex’s office.

“I’m sorry that that happened to you. I didn’t know it got that far, but… it doesn’t change anything. Look, you’re still here…” He paused. “And Mark is still with Amy. And life is still going on. And I still feel the same about you... You’re doing the best you can, Bella. You’re making do with what you have, and that’s progress. I understand why you don’t want another relationship, but I don’t want you to feel alone, either.”

Fuck him and his sweet fucking heart.

He couldn’t possibly still want to be around me, could he? Or was he just pulling the pity friend card? I was torn between hugging him and shoving him out of my car.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Ethan said when we were closer to the office. “I know you have Jack, but I’m here for you, too. And just so you know, I have ADHD, so I kind of know how you feel with mental illness. You’re not alone by any means.”

I pulled over some ways before the building, like always. I stayed quiet and refused to look at him, despite that last bit of information he gave.

On any other day, I’d feel a sense of relief whenever Jack got home from recording. Today, my stomach flipped over and over, and I just wanted to cry. I tried to keep myself steady, I didn’t want any of this to spill out the way it did with Ethan. I stayed standing in front of my bedroom door, ready to go out and greet my friend and tell him what I had done over the summer.

When I finally opened the door, I found Jack plopped down on the couch. This was the moment of truth.

“Hey, Baller,” he greeted, not looking at me as he turned on the TV. “How was the drive with E-tan?”

I sat down next to him and sighed. “He confessed, and I rejected him.”

Jack sat up, looking at me in shock. “No, Bella! Why?”

Getting there. “I’m just not over what happened with Mark,” I replied. “I don’t think I can trust someone enough to not do what he did.”

“But I thought you liked him!”

I hesitated. “I can’t… I just can’t let someone in. I can’t let another person see all of this-” I gestured around myself “-and believe that they won’t leave me.”

“Bella,” Jack said, “if that person, if Ethan really, honestly cares about you, he won’t leave. What did he say when you rejected him?”

Mark cared about me. Look what happened.

“He was persistent. So I tried to…” Here it comes. The actual moment of truth. “I-I told him something terrible about me to get him to not like me.” The lump was rising in my throat. I wanted to be sick.

Now Jack looked confused. “Why would you do that?”

“I…” I sighed, tapping my leg. “I don’t want him to like me… I’d just date him for the wrong reasons. And if I ever do date him, I don’t want to be thinking about my ex the whole time. So, out of pure impulse, I told him that I did something awful.”

The tense silence told me how much Jack was wracking his brains trying to figure out what I did. I felt like it was obvious, given my state of mind for the last few months, but I guess I had to tell him.

“What is this terrible thing you did?” he asked softly, and that made me tear up.

“I… I tried to kill myself,” I admitted, my voice cracking. I looked down at my lap, unable to look at my friend. “W-When Mark b-broke up with me… I…” I lifted up my sweater sleeve, showing Jack the pinkish white scars on my wrists. “And there’s more on my stomach and my thighs.”

He didn’t say anything at first, which made me look at him, but only for a second. HIs brows furrowed, and his eyes read… something. “Bella…” He sat back, still looking like he was wracking his brains. “God, Bella… Why, why didn’t you tell me? Why am I just finding out about this? Wh-When did this happen? Who else knows?”

Questions I could answer, yet I found myself not knowing what to say.

“Bella, answer me,” he deadpanned.

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I asked Mark not to tell anyone.”

“Wait, Mark knew about this? And this was after he broke up with you?”

“He was my only emergency contact… the people at the hospital contacted him, not me. I’m surprised he didn’t tell anyone when I was down under. And even then.”

Jack was silent, a series of emotions running over his face. Then he got up and began to pace. “I… are you okay now?”

“Yes, I promise.”

He paced some more, rubbing his hands together. “I didn’t… I didn’t know it had gotten so bad. Did you tell anyone you were feeling like that?”

I shook my head. This was where the guilt started to kick in.

“You didn’t think to call me?” he asked in disbelief, almost like he was hurt.

“No,” I said. “Or, yes. Yes, I did. But I couldn’t do it.” I wiped my face with my sleeve. “I just… at that moment, I just wanted to die. I wanted everything to be over. And I knew, if I had called you, even to say goodbye…”

“I would have talked you down,” Jack finished. “Of fucking course I would have talked you down. I would have stayed on the phone with you all day and night. I would have gotten you help!” His voice rose with every word.

“But I didn’t want that,” I told him softly. “I just wanted to die. I felt like I had nothing left.”

“You always have something left, Bella!” Jack nearly yelled if I hadn’t flinched. “It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, you’re the one who constantly says that!” His voice had finally cracked and he paused.

“I know that now… I don’t want to die. I don’t feel that way anymore…” Figured, since we’re being honest, “...at least not actively.”

Jack let out a spiteful laugh mixed with a sob. “That’s supposed to be reassuring?”

“It’s a work in progress,” I explained, trying to keep my voice firm. “I’m actually telling you that my suicidal thoughts haven’t gone away completely. I’m telling you because I don’t want to drive myself to the point of acting on those thoughts again. I’m telling you because I trust you, and I believe you when you say you could have talked me down that night.” I stood up and took a step closer to him. “I don’t want to die. I have suicidal thoughts, but I don’t want to act on them.”

Jack looked at me for a moment, tears in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner then? If you trust me, why did you wait this long to tell me?”

I shrugged, sobs bubbling up in my throat. “I don’t know… I just wanted to die. And I didn’t want anyone to know. But I should have told you, I should have called you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“No, you can’t be sorry,” Jack said, his voice trembling. “I-It’s not your fault this happened… o-or that life fucked you over so bad.”

“But I am, though,” I told him, sniffling. “Because I feel so t-terrible about leaving you. I can’t leave you, you’re my best friend.”

I hugged him tight, the feeling of what could have been dawning on me. Jack held me just as tightly, his body shaking slightly. If there was a person I was glad to be alive for, it was Jack.

He pulled back and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. But he looked me in the eyes and teared up again. He held up a finger, but his voice was trembling so much.

“I-If you e-ever d-do anything l-l-like that again...” he managed to get out.

“I won’t,” I said softly. “I-I don’t want to die…”

Jack sighed, calming himself down. “God, Bellers. And you told Ethan this?”

I nodded, feeling stupid about it now. “I didn’t mean to, it just came out.”

“What did he say?”

I hesitated, feeling enough emotions as it is. “That it didn’t change anything. He still likes me, he’ll wait... he wants to be there for me.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Jack asked, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “He’s not an asshole!”

It was true, and it made me cry again. “I’m too broken for him! Look at him, he’s only twenty and he’s doing exactly what he wants in life! He’s happy, and I’m only going to weigh him down! I’m gonna be too much for him to handle, and then he’s going to leave me for someone else!”

“You don’t know that,” Jack told me, placing his hands on my cheeks. “And yes, you’ve had a lot of bad shit happen to you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love. You don’t get to decide who can handle you. I know Ethan, I know he’s got good intentions. Do whatever you want in terms of relationships, but don’t cut him off just because he likes you.”

He kissed my forehead and let me go.

“I made a mistake, didn’t I?” I asked.

Jack shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

______

next chapter

#crankgameplays x oc #ethan nestor x reader #jacksepticeye x oc #jacksepticeye x reader #sc fic #sweetheart writes #good god im so fucking glad i finally got this chapter out #i wrote the scene w ethan months ago #and the scene w jack too #and when i put them together i fucking cried bc of the mood and bc i finally pieced them togeter #good GOD im emo #this was like THE SCENE for me #the one that made me want to make this into a whole fic #also sidenote this fanfic has 2 more parts left :P #also shoutout to sam and nessa for technically beta-ing this chapter :D

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