You're flushed for him.
So flushed that it's scary and painful at times, that you worry that your collapsing and expanding bladder based aquatic vascular system might just stop working from all the complicated feelings you overload it with on a frequent basis.
At first, it was just pity.
You couldn't help but pity that lil fucker when he told you all about himself.
How can anyone, you find yourself wondering most of the few times when you are able to keep your motherfucking zone on long enough to scrape up some coherent thought for at least a few moments before losing them after the miraculous elixir kicks in, How can anyone be the way he is and survive in a world that did not tolerate weakness in the slightest?
It must have been a tremendous struggle, having to go through all that alone.
Time passed.
And with the passing of time, with every pesterlog saved, your feelings only grew stronger. It was inevitable that you'd wind up being flushed for that pitiful lil motherfucker. It is hard not to. The way he stumbles through even typing with his hesitant "uHH"s, the way he seems so afraid of accidentally offending anyone, the way he relaxes and becomes more confident around you, his gentle and unassuming nature, the way he can be so very sincere and caring…it's the little things that make you flush so hard for him. They are seemingly unimportant and sadly overlooked by everyone, even himself, and yet they mean the world to you.
It's scary just how much he meant to you.
It's disturbing, how something ugly and foreign bubbles all up in you whenever he mentions anyone else with just the slightest degree of fondness.
Sometimes, you feel like…you feel like inviting him back to your Hive, just so you can separate him into many many pieces and keep him all to yourself. You feel like making sure that he directs that goofy smile at nobody else but you. You want him to be yours, yours and yours alone. Nobody can touch him.
He's yours.
And you can't trust yourself like this.
You can't trust your instincts.
You can't trust the web of voices in your head.
You can't trust yourself. Can't trust them.
Not when the noise is so loud you can't think.
Some of them whisper to you, Some SCREAM at you.
Horrible thoughts. Disturbing notions.
They fill your head with reckless IMPULSE and thoughts that SCARE you.
Until you don't know which way is up, or who you are supposed to be, how you feel and what you are going to do, flung from one thought to the other.
And you can't trust yourself around him like this.
You can't bring yourself to listen to the noise.
You don't want to hurt nobody…at least you think you don't…
So you sit back, crack open another bottle of Faygo, bake another miracle pie and just chill.
And the world fades into a wondrous pleasant haze with myriads of colour as the miraculous elixir runs through your veins.
The voices hush and quieten as long as the Sopor is in your bloodstream.
Everything is soothed under a warm pleasant cloud.
And for the moment,
everything is quiet and nothing hurts…
