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The crushing feeling that is romantic attraction. Purpled could only repress his feelings for so long before everything came pouring out. He wasn't a particularly emotional guy, he was more of the type to push down his feelings until they went away but it was starting to feel like that wasn't an option. How many times could he interact with Tommy before everything came out?
Before he broke open and spilled out his feelings, how he craved physical affection from the other boy, how he longed to be something more than a friend. Was his current relationship with Tommy something worth risking, he'd broken through the other boy's walls, they were comfortable with each other he didn't want to lose that.
Purpled did what he did best and pushed it down. Pushed it down until he was home for the night and his thoughts raced with one thing, Tommy.
His blonde curls reflecting in the sunlight, his blue eyes scrunching when he laughed. Even the sensation of their hands brushing unintentionally, an action that made Purpled fumble his feelings, made his stomach explode with nerves and his cheeks flush warm.
Tommy of course was oblivious to all this why would he notice? Tommy didn't see Purpled as anything more than a friend, that's all Purpled was. A friend.
What didn't help Purpled's feelings were Tommy's frequent visits to Las Nevadas, following Wilbur around like a stubborn dog. He didn't want to be there, that's why he sought out Purpled, he wanted a friend. A friend that's all. They'd spend days avoiding Quackity and Wilbur, exploring and exploiting Las Nevadas. This particular time the ended up on the top of the needle leaning on the railing.
"I'm glad you're here Purpled," Tommy commented.
"Thanks,"
"You're more fun than I'd though you would be,"
"I take offence to that," Purpled chuckled angling himself to face Tommy.
The sunset caught Tommy beautifully, the warm light bathing his face, the white strand in his hair vibrant, the blue of his eyes softer.
"Good,"
"Y'know Tommy-"
"Tommy, we've gotta go come on," Wilbur's voice cut in yelling up from the bottom of the needle.
"See you tomorrow," Tommy waved cheerfully heading towards the central elevator.
Again Purpled was lost in his thoughts. How could he repress what he wanted anymore? How could he come clean without risking their friendship. The friendship that meant so much to him, the friendship that was holding him together through Las Nevadas shifts and long days. Fuck. The walk home was a blur, he collapsed into his bed and Dogchamp jumped up next to him.
"How am I going to cope buddy?" he asked the dog.
Dogchamp whined in response, nestling into Purpled.
Purpled buried his face into Dogchamps fur, exhaling deeply. Tomorrow, he would tell Tommy tomorrow, at least then he could stop thinking about the other boy, about his perfect blue eyes, his soft hair, the way his lips would taste, the way his body would feel pressed against his own. Maybe it would stop the hurt, stop the yearning.
He dragged himself to work the next day, said good morning to Quackity and half listened to him talk on and on about something Purpled didn't care about. He got on with his morning tasks then met with Tommy. They sat at the top of the needle again, legs hanging into the open air, the late afternoon sun reflecting off of Tommy's skin, making his eyes glisten.
"You were going to say something yesterday before Wil called me to leave," Tommy started.
"Yeah, I was," Purpled said.
"Go ahead," Tommy urged.
Purpled exhaled "You're a really nice person Tommy and I've really started to like getting to know you whilst you've been here," Purpled started "Like really started to like you, as more than a friend,"
"Purpled, I-" Tommy said "I don't think of you like that, you're like a brother to me,"
"A brother,"
"A brother," Tommy confirmed.
"Right, I'm sorry,"
"It's fine,"
"I'm gonna go," Purpled said awkwardly.
He got up and contemplated jumping straight off the edge of the needle, but no he took the sensible route down. He was spiralling, over a boy, over Tommy. Stupid idiotic Tommy with the big heart and loud laugh. He didn't realise where he was walking to he was just walking, walking to tire himself out, to quiet the thoughts. He couldn't do this, he couldn't see Tommy every day and pretend things were normal after he'd confessed to him.
He'd stopped walking, he was at the L'manburg ruins, where he'd first met Tommy.
The hole left by the bombs and withers was appealing. One jump, one miss step then he'd be gone he had all his lives left, he was careful. He'd lose a life over this, he'd lose all his lives if he could. Was he really that selfish?
His legs were shaking, he sat down, let his legs hang over the depth of the explosion remnants. He stared into the depths. He could just push himself off. A voice in his head telling him to do so, no one loved him. It was clear at this point, he had no one to lean onto. He slid closer to the edge. And closer, and then he was falling.
Air hitting him as he felt tranquility, then reflex took over. His shoes soaked in water as he landed at the bottom. Right, he was too well trained.
He walked home after that, with wet shoes and a wet face, as if nothing had happened, as if everything was fine. That's what he was good at pretending that everything is fine, pretending he couldn't feel his emotions, that they didn't get to him.
He lay in his bed that night and cried, ugly sobbing that made his chest heave and his head spin.
He cried until it hit him that he was crying over a boy that didn't love him back, that was the simplicity behind it, the ridiculous simplicistic nature of that thing that finally caused him to breakdown. His clawed hands snaked into his hair pulling at the roots, pain exploding across his head. He scratched his claws down his arms, his senses picking up the metallic scent of blood. He was spiralling, he was weak, the thing that got him was unrequited love.
Ashamed in his own vulnerability he slept it off, slept in his own blood and tears.
The next morning he got up, cleaned himself off like nothing happened and headed to work, the one place he didn't want to go. He met with Quackity who rambled on again. He did his morning tasks. He didn't meet up with Tommy, he hid himself away, keeping himself busy. When he left he looked up at the needle, he could see a figure up there, the shadow of horns and a pointed tail. His arms stung, his head hurt, his eyes were sore. He looked down and kept going, leaving that person, that moment behind in the darkness of the evening. He would get over it, like he did with everything else in life.