there will be mentions of past abuse and trauma so please . . . please read at your own risk.

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Karl was experiencing uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.

Well, he'd felt this for weeks already but, this . . . this felt worse than the previous day.

Maybe quickly downing store-bought canned coffee that had an alarming amount of sugar wasn't the best idea. Pair it with the damned fluttering feeling of having to lie next to the girl he was head-over-heels over.

His nerves were having a party, getting high, and basking on every interaction between the two of them. Going on and on and on until all his mind could do was go on a clouded panic. He felt like an absolute lightweight, high and sick to his stomach.

It doesn't even feel like butterflies like most people would say in those teen magazines or those YA novels that's gotten the highest ratings on GoodReads. Everything he was feeling felt far from it.

It was like pop rocks that are uncomfortable on the roof of one's tongue, with its warm fizzed texture, or bees buzzing, swarming, and pricking every second.

He also felt like he was going to faint because of the subtle smell of her sweet perfume. He catches a whiff of the scent when the cold air brushes past them every once in a while. He also felt entranced by her quiet mumbling of the lyrics to a Kooks song, quietly playing on his phone.

He was gone. He's a goner. How could he ever get over it real quick?

Karl snapped out his thoughts as he felt her shift beside him. Her stuffed toy he named Nigel, which she surprisingly went along with, was hugged towards her chest. She settled on humming the song after many whispered verses, her foot tapping along to the beat.

Matty and he were lying down, side by side, staring straight at the skies with their backs against the wave-textured roof. There's a thick blanket covering the surface to soften the jabs from the bumps.

Their emptied drinks and the crumpled wrappers of their long-gone food acted as a barrier between them. They were in comfortable silence . . . but not-so-comfortable on Karl's end.

In movies, even in real fucking life, during these kinds of scenarios, he would've laid down his feelings with Matty, and maybe, just maybe, she'd feel the same way . . . but Karl doesn't have it within him. He'd preferably go and bottle it up and let it eat him away and eat away his feelings in the process than tell her, 'Hey! So, I think I like you.'

Because first of all, he's scared of rejection. Second, he's scared of rejection, and lastly, he's still fucking terrified of rejection. The only thing pushing him away was the idea of getting rejected and the awkwardness that'll follow afterward. They have the same friend group for fucks sake! His best friends adored her. He wasn't going to take the risk of ruining friendships because of his newfound love interest! It just felt wrong, so he'd rather shut up than tell her.

As much as George and Quackity tease him about her or Dream and Sapnap try to give him advice on how to make "moves" and when to back off if she does say or show signs that she only sees him as a friend and nothing more, and to respect whatever decision she makes, he's not going to budge.

Even if he'd regret not saying anything in thirty years, even if he'll think about it daily and sulk as he sits on his rocking chair at his porch, yelling at kids to get off his lawn because he'll grow a bitter, mean, old wrinkling man.

Karl thinks God didn't get the memo of giving him a cliché love story nor the courage to go on and tell Matty how he feels, but He remembered adding in whatever concoction he had in hand to make him dramatic, and most of all, unable to get his feelings across.

No offense to you God but do You have favorites?

Karl roughly rubbed a hand over his face, yawning as sleep's starting to catch up with him again. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake. The weather wasn't of help to his drowsiness and so was the warm blanket that was lazily wrapped around him. It only further amplified it.

The wind felt cooler this particular early morning, or maybe it was just because of his mood being blue all of a sudden. Maybe emotions could affect body temperature? Maybe he's experiencing that phenomenon now. Who knows.

The chill nipped at his cheeks while his fingers played with the soft material of his sweater, tugging and pulling ever so often. He wondered how long it would take until the warm air takes over the familiar chilly embrace he's used to as the sun's not too far from now. There was probably only a couple of hours left until those blinding rays would wake the leaves and everything that lounges below it.

For once, during his stay in sunny Florida, Karl wished for the sun. He wishes for its burning hold and humid air even though he hates the weather of the state, purely because of the reason he was already sporting a sunburn on top of his cheeks and nose because he often forgets to put sunscreen on.

He hoped, oh he fucking hoped, that the heat would miraculously snap him out of his lovesick daze and knock some sense back into him. Its effectivity is a huge question mark but there's always a first for everything, right? Maybe God will take pity on him and let him have this one.

"Would you like to stay out here until sunrise?"

Karl turned to look at her, startled by the sudden question.

For someone who couldn't stop thinking about her and how he could get over shit quickly, he sure was taken aback by her voice . . . and just, her presence in general.

He was still not used to their proximity. Well, it wasn't too close. The makeshift barrier that may or may not be intentional was still there, separating the two of them, as it should be . . . because Karl doesn't know how or if he'd survive if it's not there. His heart can only take so much.

Matty's blanket's covering half of her face. She was staring at him expectantly, her sea-like eyes surrounded by a slight red and looking glossy from fatigue.

Karl was too comfortable to say no, and he felt like she didn't want to leave their space either. His body also practically begged for rest even though he'd rested almost all day hours ago.

"I think we're fully equipped with the right amount of blankets so . . . I think, yes?"

"Alright," Matty sleepily smirked under her blanket, clearly pleased with his answer as she let out a content sigh. She proceeded to turn and look back at the silky navy blue sky, the blanket sliding away, giving him a perfect view of her infectious grin, "Cool."

"Cool." He said.

"Cool." She repeated with a hint of mockery in her tone.

"Shut up." He grinned shyly, red evading his milky skin.

Karl leaned on his left side with both hands placed under his face in a pray-like manner, acting as a pillow. He stared at the side of her face, tracing the slope of her nose and her long lashes that seemed to touch the top of her cheeks as she slowly blinks, with his eyes, "You know. I've been here for almost two weeks now but . . . I don't think I know much about you." He said.

"Well . . . It's 'cause you never asked."

He smiled, tiredly nodding in agreement. He doesn't know what he found amusing that he decided to smile.

Maybe it's because of the way she scrunched her nose up, the side of her eyes crinkling at the same time or the way the side of her soft, pink lips tilted up or just because he's a massive sappy little piece of shit that everything she does brings a smile to his face.

It may be all of the above, but Karl was dead-set on getting over his feelings, starting today.

He only had what? Nine more days 'till he leaves Florida. Those nine days would totally fly by quickly.

He can do it. He can do this.

He can take nine more days of being in the same place as her.

. . . Or he could reschedule his flight so he can fly home earlier?

Nah.

He tried, alright?

He already tried to book an earlier flight as soon as he started to realize shit. It started the day she picked him up from the airport. It was a weak move, but can anyone blame him? Also, the odds weren't really in his favor that day. The flights fell on the day when he would be leaving . . . so there was no use for that. So, that's just fucking great.

He can do this. He's not some lovesick puppy, even though he knows that he is.

Denial is the answer, he said to himself.

Anyways, fuck those crappy rom-com's! They're overrated anyway. Misleading, hope-crushing, that fucking genre. He's going to be just fine . . . right?

"I know that . . . But is it alright if I ask you stuff?"

"It's alright. I'll kick you off this roof if I'm not up to answering a question."

"That's kinda harsh. Is kicking me necessary?"

"Yes."

Karl paused. He wondered what goes in on her mind. He'd never been more thankful for having health insurance if she ever does decide to throw him off the roof. "I— Damn, ok. When's your birthday?"

"September 13, 1999."

"Oh, you're the same age as Dream."

Matty moved so she could face him, copying his form as she stared straight at him with a semi-serious expression, "Please tell me I'm older than him. Just so I can pull the treat your elders with respect card if he tries to fucking kill me in-game again." She rushed. Her intense stare was bringing heat to his face.

Karl shook his head and watched as her face falls dramatically, an uncontrollable giggle escaping him. His right hand came up to cover his mouth because his breath probably smelled like the coffee and hotdog they just consumed.

"Damnit! Are you telling me he's not born on a fucking December?"

"He's born in August."

"Huh . . . Makes sense."

Karl snorted, "What the hell's that s'posed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing . . . How about you? When's yours?"

"This questioning's about you, not me."

Matty lets out a noise of protest, "Not fair! I want to know you too." She said before she slapped a hand down the space between them, knocking a can and flattening a wrapper in the process.

It was something she picked up from Spifey when they were younger. He did it when he wanted to make a point. It usually happens when they debated over the whole Star Wars trilogy. She embarrassingly does it now whenever she tries to get someone to go and spill the beans. It works most of the time because they find it annoying and just want her to shut up.

The sudden slam startled them both. Matty's cheeks reddened. She quickly retracted her hand back, a small oops whispered from her rosy lips.

He'll give in. He can let Matty have this one. It wasn't simp-y for him to give her an answer.

"July 19, 1998."

Karl watched as her eyes widened. Excitement was practically buzzing from her small frame, "Dude! That's like days from now! I mean, it's not near, near . . . but it's near."

"Matty . . . it's June 26. It's not near."

"Shut up. It's near." She mumbled, shutting her eyes. Karl took that as a signal for him to accept it. Karl sighed and let her have this one again.

A harsh blow of cold wind washed over the two of them, Matty noticeably shivered. He watched as she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, covering half her face with Nigel.

"You cold?"

Matty opened one eye before putting Nigel away from her face and grinned, "Oh, why? Are we gonna snuggle like in the movies?" She poked with a cheshire cat-like smile.

Karl felt his cheeks heat up and looked away with a cough. He held a cool hand on his burning cheek as if it could do something, "I mean . . . if you want."

Is this flirting? It feels like flirting.

His consciousness practically snarled at him, Goddamnit Karl, is this what moving on means for you?

He shook the thought away. He can have one last day of pining.

He watched as she opened her mouth, no words coming out, and he thought that maybe she'd take up the offer.

It was like filling up a balloon with air. Wherein one's expectant and excited to watch the whole thing take its righteous form and float. Gravity not existing. It gets filled and filled, and it's starting to look like how it's supposed to be, and then—

"I'm fine . . ." She muttered.

It pops.

Karl nodded and closed his eyes. At least he tried.

He wasn't going to lie, but he did hope that she'd say yes.

The two grew silent as the world slowly started to wake. A far away and small part of the sky had begun to turn a light blue with a hint of pink blending with it. The trees danced with the wind while some birds started to glide through the sky, totally unaware of the two twenty-year-olds having a crisis down below.

Oh, how the both of them wished to be like those birds. They wanted to fly away from this . . . this monstrosity of a situation. Pretend it never happened.

Karl's mind was going, 'Too much . . . too much? I think that was too much' while Matty was feeling flustered to a whole other level because, when the hell did this man beside her get so bold?

She nibbled at her bottom lip in thought. She wanted to take up the offer. She did. And her . . . heart, confusingly, lurched at the idea of being so close to Karl, and that frightened her. Everything felt so familiar like she'd gone through this before, but it's definitely different.

It felt like she stood in the middle of a war. Still with fright and a rapidly beating heart to go with it. And a loaded gun in her shaking hand, waiting to be fired, to be used, to be recognized.

But, what was the gun? What did it symbolize? What was she not seeing? Was it what?! Love? It seemed so absurd . . .

But what if it was? Oh god. What if she ruins everything because it is that four-lettered cursed word that starts with an L and ends with OVE?

Matty closed her eyes, wincing.

No, no, no.

She's not going to have a moment where she realizes shit. Especially not when the owner of her thoughts for today was just an empty can and paper wrapper away. Nope, fucking nope.

She's not going to be thinking of pretty blue eyes with pupils that go wide in awe every time something cool happens in a movie or a show. She's not going to think of a laugh that distinctly sounds like that one clown with fiery red hair and clothes with an alarming amount of ruffles that feeds upon the fear that comes from the children and those children themselves every 27 years. She's not going to think of freckled cheeks that she desperately wants to trace every chance she gets whenever the sun's light hits his face just right as they eat homemade breakfasts together that he'll exaggeratedly and genuinely gush about.

She's not going to think about hugs and what hugging him every day would feel like after she'd gotten a taste of it when she picked him up from the airport. She's not going to think of how he didn't push her off as she propped her chin on his shoulder, staring straight at those beautiful blues, and how she wanted to close the distance between them if only those stupid masks weren't in the way. She's not going to think of how she got slightly jealous of that 7/11 registrar because she thought he was flirting with him. After all, friends get protective of each other sometimes!

Shit. Matty wasn't falling for him, and if she was, how would she know? She doesn't know what romantic love's supposed to feel like. She had been . . . loved, but the logical side of her mind continuously reminds her that it was not in the way it was supposed to be.

If love was bruises that last weeks and hand-holding that lead to broken wrists . . . then why does it hurt her rather than swoon her?

She was confused. And it was starting to overwhelm her.

She wanted something to hold onto, an anchor to ground her back.

So she went and reached for it.

"On second thought . . ." Karl heard her spoke before he felt a warm hand clutch his own, slowly being pulled towards her as if she was waiting for him to retaliate until it rested on the space between them. Neither made a move to let go or showed a sign of discomfort, "Can we . . . Can we do this? I quite like holding your hands." She mumbled coyly.

Karl stilled at the contrast of that minimal warmth to his cold ones. He held his breath until Matty squeezed his hand tightly like she knew what's going on in his mind, reminding him to breathe. The squeeze promptly made him release a nervous breath. He wanted to say me too, but the words got caught in his throat so, he just made a poor noise. It sounded like a wailing cat for him, but he's just being dramatic.

"Is this alright?" She asked.

"Yeah." It was far from alright. Karl was falling.

Karl heard a little more shuffling, but he didn't bother to look when he heard cans placed somewhere and wrappers getting bunched up until a warm body laid just an inch away from his. The plushie's green fur grazed his arm, making his eyes shoot open.

A mess of brown wavy hair rested near his shoulder. The floral scent became prominent, and it invaded his nose and his brain. He felt the soft warmth and the sweet fading smell of floral shampoo, trying not to pull Matty into a hug. It was intoxicating.

It took all of his energy the whole week to try and keep his habit of hugging and cuddling at bay. He wasn't touch-starved per se, but being unable to hug someone other than his pillow for a long time felt unusual. He was an affectionate person. All the friends he'd had in his life knew that.

The two laid there quietly under the dark sky that had little to no stars. So much for stargazing . . . but it was better than nothing.

Karl was sure that his hand was sweating like hell, but it felt like Matty wasn't going to let go anytime soon. He's not even complaining. It felt nice to hold her hand again. It hadn't even been days from when she took and held his hand at 7/11, it happened just hours ago, but he missed it like it had been years.

"Any more questions?" She suddenly asked while still staring straight ahead.

"Do you have any pets?"

"Yes! I don't really know if they could also be considered mine, but my parents have two cats they adopted when I left to live here. Gertrude and Hades."

"Cool names, Who thought of it?"

"My dad. My mom didn't like the name but just went along with it. How about you?"

"Me? I like their names. It's different—"

Matty shook her head with a smile, "No, I meant, do you have any pets?"

"Oh." Karl said with an embarrassed chuckle, "I don't have any of my own, but we do have a family cat. I was planning to adopt one, but with this kind of work and the god-awful schedule, I don't think I can pull it off."