15: I Love You, and Several Other Things

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I am.... so sorry. 

:D

please don't kill me i swear this was coming the whole plotline 

leave some comments on this one i know you've got to be having thoughts in there somewhere and i'd love to hear what's going on up top while you go through this specific chapter

ROCKET

"Just go to sleep." He grumbles, not moving.

"No," I respond, my voice is stripped. "Hå-"

"Don't Håkon me right now, Rocket." He says it in my accent, dragging me for not being able to pronounce his damn name no matter how hard I try.

"Please."

"No."

"Håkon for fucks sake I just-" I choke out. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me it was your birthday in March?"

He goes still. "I thought you would know. It was all over. Fenrir posted about it, so did the Wolves, it's common knowledge. I thought you'd have the decency as my boyfriend to know when my fucking birthday was."

That makes it so much fucking worse. I stare at his unmoving figure and I choke up on my own throat, tears are slipping out again before I can stop them.

"Rocket you can't just cry your way out of this, you know that."

"I do," I wipe off my eyes and try again. "I'm sorry, I don't, I'm sorry." He's still not looking at me so I try to put my hand on his shoulder again but he flinches which is so much fucking worse than him pulling away again. "I'm, shit, I know you don't like hearing about him but Steph told me to just tell you everything so I'm gonna just tell you everything because I, I don't know I started going through all the things that could happen and like, what if you died in the middle of the night and you died thinking I- all of that. I don't know, I can't take it, I can't take this."

I can't figure out what to say, I keep thinking of scraps of sentences but none of it makes sense to say so I just sit there, staring at his rigid figure laying there, pretending like he's fine like that.

"I'm sorry," I breathe out, coughing. "I'm sorry I treat you like that and I didn't know I was doing it but I really don't know how to do anything I-I," 

I stop for a moment to recollect myself. "All my stuff, all, you know, all that stuff that I like helping you with, for me, it's all stuffed so deep in me that I don't know how to even go about unearthing it and I know it would fucking destroy me to do it which is why I keep it in there and I guess it's just-"

I cough again, wiping my eye with the heel of my hand. "I guess it's just making me really insecure and I've just thought, I just thought that, that because you keep saying no to, no to sex that-that you don't like me like that, want me like that, and it just, it's been killing me because no one has ever wanted me like that and you're the one person thats supposed to and you're delaying and I don't know, I don't. And I guess that's like what was going on and I know you're right about all of it because I would tell people but that's, that's not because I'm a public person or because I want to break your personal boundaries it's just because I fucking, I'm useless with other people."

I suck in a shaky breath, fidgeting with my fingers to keep myself focused on something, anything but this. "I can't fucking stop myself from sharing shit, shit I really really really don't like having shared and it just comes out and I hate it. It's like I can't stop it and I know it's because I'm just so fucking pitifully desperate for people to like me that I'm willing to tell people anything and-" I can't believe I'm fucking saying any of this.

"And that's why, that's, fuck, that's why I got so close to you so fast, I lost my whole damn anchor with Steph and suddenly I was so lost again and so fucking weird and so alone all the time that I had to fucking find someone to cling to again because I'm useless without something there constantly telling me that I'm not a fucking waste of space and that I matter to someone, like, anyone, and it, I hate it. All I wanted to be back then when I was little was fucking strong and independent and here I am ten years later and I can't fucking function without someone more stable than I am standing right beside me and telling me that I still fucking matter and that- shit, I just, I'm sorry. I used you, I did, I'm sorry. I just, I picked you out of the team because you seemed like you, fuck, this is making me sound like such a fucking asshole, such- my mom taught me so much psychology as a kid and I keep fucking using it like some dumb tool for my own benefit, you, shit, I knew you were constantly alone and I knew that you'd have time to pay attention to me and I was hoping you were lonely just so I could use it to be close to someone again and I did the same thing with Steph back then and it's shit, it's all shit."

I run my hands through my hair, pulling it. "I fucking, I use it like a tool and I pick out the people that I know won't be able to back away from me because they don't have anyone to back up to and then I cling and I cling and I cling because I can't force myself not to and then I just tell people shit and it would be so different if I wasn't fucking who I am but I am and every time I think about this it makes me feel like shit because I can't, I can't, I can't do, shit, I can't do anything without someone telling me I'm fine to do it and I can't- I'm just here and I hate it, I hate it so much, I hate everything so much that having one person that I can convince myself enjoys my presence is like a fucking godsend all over again because I've convinced myself I'm fucking insufferable to be around and every single time that someone, anyone, tells me that they can't do one thing, get together one time, even if they have a viable fucking reason for not being able to do that thing, I have a full fucking mental meltdown and I want to fucking scream and I hate myself for it because I think they hate me all of a sudden and it's shit, it's all so fucking shit."

I pull in another shaky horrible breath and force myself to keep talking. "So then I just shove it all down in there and I pretend like it's not there but Steph just had to go halfway through our phone call because he was eating dinner! He was fucking with his girlfriend and I called him because I was freaking the hell out about all this and that was a reasonable reason that he had to go but here I am convinced that he suddenly hates me all over again and I just can't fucking stop it."

Håkon isn't moving but he's definitely paying attention.

"And then I just, I shove it all in and I keep pretending like it's not there and I act like a fucking dork all the time and regret half the shit I say because it's so fucking embarrassing and I hate all of it and I'm on some fucking endless uphill of desperately trying to make everyone like me because deep down I fucking hate existing in this stupid body and being around people and being around myself and then something happens and I'm a fucking wreck all over again and then once in a blue fucking moon I have a moment like this where I just spill it all to someone and they just have to sit there and listen and pretend like they want to be there for me and I know they don't, I know they fucking don't. I've told so many people so many fucking horrible personal details about myself because I just want them to fucking like me and sometimes I want them to like me so bad I try to make them pity me so I can find that fucking rush of someone actually wanting to put up with me because I fucking, I can't stand who I am."

Tears are falling down my face so fast I can't reach up to get rid of all of them. My arms are wrapped around my ribs so tight I can't breathe and I'm just a fucking wreck. "I'm, the, I just, I can't stand who I am and fuck, I don't even know if I like hockey that much or if I like the fucking attention or what not and I'm just so lost all the time. I don't even know what I would be doing if I wasn't doing hockey, I'm barely fucking smart and this is the only thing that people have ever told me I'm good at so I keep doing it even though I'm just a backup goalie and every game that I play badly just wrecks me a little more if I don't do it perfectly because then I just feel like I'm sucking at the one thing I was always supposed to be good at and I'll be honest this whole thing just makes me miserable and I just feel like a little kid that got lost and ended up in the wrong practice, but I can't get away from it because I do like the sport and I love you guys on the team. I just, I'm such a fucking wreck."

I pull in another horrible painful breath, ignoring the throbbing in my head from crying so hard. "That's, that's why, that's why I like it when I see improvements that you make because I feel fucking useful. It makes me feel like all the psychology I learned so I could make people like me and manipulate people is finally fucking making someone like themselves again and finally fucking helping someone and it's just, I- I- it won't undo all the shit I've done with it but it makes me feel okay again to know when I eventually leave here I made someone feel good about themselves just once." I cough, wiping my nose on my arm.

I sniff and look down at him, still unmoving and staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him. His body is rigid and tense, I watch as his tricep flexes slowly, moving his arm a slight fraction of an inch. 


HÅKON

I told myself I wouldn't look at him until he was done because I know the second I look behind me I'm going to shatter to bits and I'll be helpless for him. I told myself I wouldn't, but when I hear his voice crackle and try to start up again, I quickly blink over my shoulder.

It's awful. It sends another knife through my chest, seeing him there, on his knees, his arms around his chest like he's trying to give himself any support. His hair is a wreck and falling over his eyes and from where I am I could see the tears making burning paths down his cheeks, soaking his face, down his neck, dripping off his chin.

"I just, Håkon," he clears his throat and it sounds like it hurts, it sounds like his voice is so ripped raw he can't breathe. It shows when he speaks next, low, raspy, half gone, exhausted. "I hate being around people because I never, I never know what's going on in their heads, I can't stand it, I can't, I can't-" he coughs out another sob. "That's why, why I love being around you and Steph so much because you're both so, so constant. Steph's just, just brutally nice, all the time, and you, I don't know, I just, I know you, I know how you work, I know what you're going to say, what you're going to do, it's, so, so so fucking, so fucking relieving to not, not have to worry about, about what's going on. What you're going to say, how you're going to say it, if you're going to hurt me."

He coughs and I glance over my shoulder again, watching his body shake like a leaf, weak and scared and- "it's exhausting, everything, all the time, it's like I can't get a break. I don't, I don't know how other people do it, enjoy being around, around people all day, it's so hard, but I m-make myself because I can't fucking stand the-the alternative and I'd rather- I don't know," he chokes. "I don't know I don't know I don't know. You're just so, so steady, so even, so, fuck, you're so constant in my world that, I don't-"

He chokes and I watch him move in my peripherals, curling tighter into himself. "I told you not to get addicted to me, to feeling okay, but I'm addicted to you, you're stable, you're constant, you're what I turn to when I can't control anything else and I, I told you that was going to be toxic and it is, it is but it wasn't you that got reliant, you're too, too good. It was me. It was me that only came to you, over and over and over and over because you're just so strong and stable and I need that, I can't be that for myself. I was the one that made this like this. I was the one that, that got reliant, I was- I wrecked this."


ROCKET

I open my mouth to talk again, coughing out the knot in my throat. "I know I'm just doing the pity thing all over again now, but I, I just wanted to explain all- fuck, all of that, all of everything, I guess." His jaw flexes.

"I can't do this." I whisper. "If you really feel like all that I need to go. I can't do that to you after all you've been through, you need to find someone less- less fucking mentally ill. Less... demanding. Less all of what I am. I'm gonna go."

There's a hand wrapped up in my collar and then I'm crushed. His body smothers mine in a hug fiercer than I've ever felt. His heart is hammering, shoulders shaking against mine and I just feel so weak and tired and warm and wanted in his arms. And wanted. I turn my head into his firm shoulder and choke out another sob.

"I love you." He blurts, cradling my head and my body and scooping me up into him, holding me. "I love you." He says again. "Please, god, never say that shit again. Never fucking tell me I need to find someone else."

I try to slow down my breathing to say anything but I can't, I just whimper softly into his shoulder and try not to burst into another fucking round of sobbing. 

"God, Milo," he whispers against my hair, tapping my shoulders four times, giving me four kisses on the head, four squeezes of his other hand. "I'm right here, you're okay, I'm sorry, god, I'm sorry." 

***

again i am so, so, very, sorry about this one O.O whoops. next chapter is a lil better and more wholesome

håkon is lowkey such a dick in this but like i understand why, but at the same time i would walk right up to him with a stepstool to slap his viking ass if he was real. he's only got eight inches on me but i feel like i would assert more anger if i wasn't shrimpy from his perspective. i'm not shrimpy, but he's huge


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