Page 72 of A Thousand Cuts
He felt stupid and shy as he read what he’d written back obsessively, but he hoped it came across as nice and friendly and engaging.
Fix:Something simple in the end.
Liam:So melodrama for nothing?
Fix:As per usual. What are you up to?
Liam:Spa day with King. Getting ready for my stream later.
There was a short pause before Fix replied.
Fix:You still want me around for that?
Liam bit his lip, clutching the phone in his hand. Did he? He thought about the last stream he’d done, alone in his room, with the person tormenting him potentially watching. He thought about the peace he had managed to find only inside his own head. Where Fix was. If imaginary Fix was enough to soothe him, he was sure the real one would be a hundred times better.
He picked up his phone.
Liam:Yes
He might be a fool, but his own selfish wants superseded his good sense.
Fix:I’ll be there then.
Liam:I could make food for us after?
Fix:That sounds amazing.
Liam lit up, mind already racing with ideas for recipes, desperate to make it perfect despite being a very mediocre chef.
Liam:Allergies?
Fix:None. And before you panic, I like everything
Fix:Especially you
Liam’s face flamed and he threw himself onto his couch and screamed into the pillows, phone clutched to his chest. He was going to combust. Burn up. Cease to exist. They'd have to vacuum the cinders of him that were left.
He felt the device vibrate and heard it ping again. He took a steadying breath before peeking an eye down to their text thread, in too deep to even think aboutnotlooking.
Fix:Too much?
Liam’s fingers texted back before he gave them permission, more scared that Fix would stop than he was of the effect on him if they continued.
Liam:Just enough
Fix:Good. See you later, honey
Liam dropped his phone and stared at King, who was still sitting in his spot while Liam flailed around, endlessly patient.
“Well I guess that settles that,” Liam said.
King huffed before finally deciding he’d had enough. He pawed at the headband until it slipped off and nudged Liam with his nose before excusing himself over to his box of chew-toys.
Liam was left sprawled across the sofa wondering when he’d completely lost the plot. He pushed himself up and over to the small mirror above his sewing machine.
He stared at his own reflection seriously, ignoring the fact that his mask was now dry and clinging to his skin weirdly.
“Are you really doing this?” he asked himself.
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