A/N: might be the last chapter because people on tumblr are mean idk

Kurloz had waited until you were slightly calmer before he did anything with you. For the most part, you were too useless to do anything with yourself. You let him touch you in any way he saw fit, ruffling your hair, hugging you, stroking your face, all in some sort of attempt to shush you. Eventually it worked and when you came back to your senses, you were sitting in his car.

After you were done your fit, Kurloz had gently made you stand and took you to his car, opening the door for you and buckling you in. You didn't ask any questions, you didn't make any comments; you let him do what he wanted.

You were boneless. Your head throbbed, your face felt too moist and too dry, your throat ached, and you were embarrassed and angry and tired. You were angry at yourself for yelling at Horrus, you were embarrassed for blowing up like that in front of both Horrus and Kurloz, and now you were tired from all the crying you did. Crying wasn't a thing you indulged in very often; it took effort and you had none, it was easier to settle into a fit of ever constant depression rather than let it all out. For the most part, you let people do as they wanted with you, saying and doing without reacting to them. There was a certain way people expected you to act, and doing otherwise would probably cause you more harm. It harmed you to behave the way you did, but change didn't come easy or often to you, so you just stayed the way you were.

You were tired emotionally and physically, and you were already sorry. If you weren't so upset, you would have tried to text or call Horrus to apologize, but somehow you thought that you were the last person he would want to hear from right now.

So you let Kurloz drive. Some soft music filled the car, simple beats and a light voice carrying the car as you both drove. Idly you watched buildings pass by; you didn't care about class right now, the last thing you wanted was for people to see you like this. You rarely ever let people see you angry or sad or upset, keeping a careful façade of happiness. Sometimes you were drunk when you cried or you would become useless when you were high, but for the most part you had it together, partying aside.

It was strange for Kurloz to be acting the way he was; you didn't know him, as much as you wanted to. Kurloz had never been there for any of your breakdowns or listened to anything about your personal life, other than wanting to be an item. Now it seemed you were single, and dating wouldn't normally be a problem, but you were feeling pretty shitty for what you just did.

After a while of slightly awkward silence between the two of you, you both reached a residential area, further on the other side of town. This was the part of town that had nicer and bigger and newer houses, where the older or wealthier people lived. You were middle class, you were born middle class, and you were probably going to die middle class. Maybe you should have been surprised that Kurloz came from a wealthier family, but right now you didn't care. Once or twice you'd gone to a house party in this area, but not in the particular one Kurloz pulled up to.

Kurloz parked the car and walked to your side of the car; you unbuckled yourself, because you weren't entirely pathetic. The curly haired boy opened the door for you and held out his hand, keeping an even expression on his face as he did. Heat gathered in your face, fresh pangs of humiliation rushing through you, but you took his hand anyways. If Kurloz wanted to be your senpai, your ouji-sama, he was more than welcome to the title.

For the most part you were too tired for any sort of joking or screwing around, but the thought of Kurloz being comfortable being called those things almost made you smile.

Kurloz held your hand as he led you inside, reminding you a little bit of your date. His hand was softer than yours, because all your sports had toughened them, but his hands were like ice. If you thought about it, you felt a little sick, but that was probably from crying, and Kurloz' body heat, or lack thereof wasn't helping much so far. When you both got inside, you started looking around; you felt terrible, but there was much of Kurloz you knew nothing about.

Inside his house was tidy and well-furnished with meticulously made up details, couches with elaborate carvings in them and railings. Here and there hung portraits of clowns and other horror-themed decorations; it was rather dark inside the house, and you guessed it was probably because everyone else he lived with was at work or school. Kurloz took you up some stairs and down a couple hallways until you reached a door that you assumed was his room.

Kurloz opened up the door, still holding your hand and pulled you inside, all the while being gentle with you. Your assumption was right; inside was a soft-looking bed with heaps of blankets and pillows, a desk and a couple shelves, posters, and everything was suspiciously clean. Now, you weren't a slob, but you had a pile of clothes here and there on your own bedroom floor and some anime shit lying around your room. Kurloz was just as put together as everything else in the house was it seemed, except for the bed.

The bed is where he led you, and it was just as comfortable as you thought it would be. You were sat down and piled upon with some pillows and blankets, and the thin boy turned and left you just like that. Well. You were a little bewildered now, you were in an unfamiliar house in an even more unfamiliar bed, and you still felt really shitty. It seemed you were welcome to it, so you laid down and curled up, dragging the blankets and pillows nearest to you and getting comfortable.

Underneath some pillows your hand hit something; you wrapped your hand around whatever it was, and it was soft. You pulled it out and held it up to see, and you regretted this instantly; in your hands was a creepy looking doll, with a blue shirt and orange pants, red cheeks and long eyelashes.

You really didn't like puppets. Something about their unending gaze left you nervous and uneasy.

The doll's shirt read "Cal" on it along with some other gaudy jewellery; you found it cute in a morbid sort of way that Kurloz slept with a doll (you slept with Pokémon plushes and bodypillows), but this…this thing was kind of ugly.

Now that it was in your hands, you weren't sure what to do with it; you certainly didn't want to cuddle up to this thing, and simply putting it back would still unnerve you. While knowing it was there, you'd never be able to relax or even look comfortable. Putting it on the floor seemed rude, you were currently a guest and pissing off Kurloz wasn't on your to-do list.

This Cal doll was even more unnerving than all the Insane Clown Posse posters on the walls.

While you were contemplating this Kurloz came back inside the room; he had a couple of coffee mugs in his hand, and as soon as he saw you, he had a wry smile across his handsome features. Kurloz set one of the mugs down on the desk and made his way over to you, sitting down on the bed and handing you the mug. Instantly, you complied, sitting up from your make-shift nest to take the cup from him, practically tossing the doll out of your grasp.

The contents of the cup were dubious at first; you took your coffee and drink in specific ways. If Kurloz made it for you, you'd drink it, but you probably wouldn't like it. You took a sip; and to your pleasant surprise, it was hot chocolate. It was creamy and sweet and not too hot, and not too sugary that it was gross. It was…well, it was perfect. While you were warming up inside and out with all the pillows and blankets and the hot chocolate, you noticed Kurloz somehow had gotten a notebook into his hands. This guy really was ninja like in all the ways of faith Juggalos seemed to have, you determined with your lips quirked to the side.

["That's Cal. He was a gift from my…uncle. Don't look so weirded out, man."]

You grin. "A gift that you sleep with? Man…there's no excuse for that…I wouldn't sleep with that. No offense."

Kurloz shrugged. ["Aight, bro. I got this. When we get all kinds of cozy-like in a bed, I'll hide Cal for you."] Kurloz reached over and grabbed the doll, and it was gone. You'd only blinked and it was gone.

This house was sort of weird, you were starting to notice.

The sudden disappearance of the puppet didn't stop you from blushing a shade at the bed reference. Was…was Kurloz flirting with you? "Uh…yeah. That would be real nice of you. I mean…if you like that sorta shit, I ain't gonna judge…" You really had no place to judge with all the anime figurines lining your shelves and the magic the gathering cards you had stacked on your desk.

A smile was your response, and you took another sip of your hot chocolate, trying not to get too flustered. Visiting Kurloz wasn't your plan for the day, but now that you were here, you didn't feel like leaving. Kurloz' presence was comforting, you were all warmed up now, and aside from your headache and that godawful doll you were comfy. "Uh…I hate to be a bother, but do you have some painkillers or something…?"

With another nod Kurloz strode out of the room, and returned much more quickly than before. In his hand he had a bottle of painkillers, the nicer kind you noticed, and you gratefully took a couple. Now all you had to do was wait for the pain to stop. "Thanks, doll. Um…I like your room." You commented, taking another look at all the posters and things he had lining the place. On a shelf you thought you could see a couple Junji Ito manga, but you weren't sure. If it was, you were sold; this man right here was the prince of your kokoro.

Kurloz simply nodded, and then he put his mug down again and crawled over next to you in his stupidly large bed, wiggling his way into under the covers next to you. Once Kurloz had situated himself on this stomach, he was writing again. ["So what's wrong, brother? That was some pretty unmiraculous noise I heard earlier."]

Oh, no. You had been hoping that Kurloz wouldn't ask, and normally you wouldn't say anything about it. You sat up and slid your jacket off your shoulders, since it felt a lot like you would be here for a while. You weren't entirely sure what to do with it, but Kurloz picked it up and tossed it onto a nearby chair, where it slid to the floor. It looked a little weird, considering how the entirety of his room was immaculate.

Your lips and tongue felt heavy. Just from this weekend and today alone you had been the undoings of two people, plus yourself. It didn't feel right for you to say anymore, you were hurting yourself, you were killing yourself over and over. But here you were in Kurloz' room in his bed, wrapped up all safe and warm. The bed smelt nice and the worried knit of his brow had relaxed, and you'd be lying if you said that you were uncomfortable.

You had broken up with Horrus in the worst way possible for this boy in the bed next to you.

Guilt and affection loosened your lips. "…I…I broke up with Horrus today."

A couple of emotions written across the other boys' made up face were your response. Kurloz was wearing his paint today, you noticed. First you recognized surprise, and then understanding, and then what looked like disbelief before he nodded. ["Do you want to talk about it?"]

No. No, you didn't. You wanted to fall asleep in this boy's arms and stop thinking about how awful you felt and were. You wanted to get the look on his face out of your head, you wanted to forget what you said and did. If you hadn't already cried about it, you would be doing so again. You had to suck in a breath to keep your bottom lip from giving away how you felt, gnawing on it as though it were the cause of all your problems. "I can if you want me to."

Kurloz' mouth settled into a firm line. ["I don't want you to do anything you don't all up and want to do. What do you want, brother? That's probably a lot more motherfuckin' important than what I want right now."]

"…And…what do you want right now?" Another breath filled your lungs.

Kurloz' expression and his hands were suddenly in your hair and he was closer, shifting so that he was almost hovering over top of you. The look in his eyes and the way he cupped your face made you think he was going to kiss you, and instinctually you almost jerked out of his hand. You weren't okay with anything romantically intimate, you had had enough of that for today. As much as you had been wanting to kiss and hold Kurloz, that wasn't what you wanted right now. To your relief, Kurloz pressed his lips to your cheek, stroking your hair and the side of your face before he sat up again. The same look of hurt was present, but it wasn't the same; it was faraway and distant, repressed.

It made more guilt pour from your insides.

["I want you to feel better. I want you to stop lookin' so motherfuckin' sad. It ain't right the way a brother was all by himself when you broke down the way you did. I want you to relax and stop getting yourself all worked up and hurting yourself like this."]

Kurloz' hand came to your wrist, pulling it out from under the covers to bring where you had hurt yourself earlier into the light. Skin shaped in small crescents marred your skin close to where your veins were, angry with blood. Already it was starting to clot and scab, making Kurloz click his tongue. The curly haired boy got up from the bed and left again.

So Kurloz had noticed what you had done.

Kurloz knew.

Horrus may have been your best friend, but you had never told him. In all the times you had been with him, you had never once told him he had hurt you physically. Never had you opened up to anyone about how you opened up yourself like this, never had you shown anyone or let them know. You were always careful, making sure to do it when you were alone and out of sight. You had been careless, desperate for breaking down in public the way you did.

Kurloz was back in the room and he rouse you from the bed, holding you up by your shoulders and bringing out your wrists. The soft pads of his fingers traced the scars dotted there, going up and up, because you had some on your forearm and upper arm too. In his hands he had a small bag, and he went through the delicate but searing process of cleaning what he could of your wounds, some of the older ones were beyond help. Then he bandaged them and tried to pull off your pants and shirt, because you knew he knew. You knew he knew there was more to you, more of these little marks curving into your skin in less obvious places.

But you had shied away, telling him no, you weren't ready for him to see you. You weren't ready for him to see you with less clothing, you weren't ready for him to look at your with such pity in his eyes. Nobody had ever done this for you, cleaning and bandaging you, because you had always done it for yourself.

Throughout the process, you were trying to place yourself elsewhere mentally. It was humiliating, It was embarrassing, it was painful, and you were ashamed. When Kurloz' hand brushed some stray tears away from your face you came back to yourself and you hadn't realized you were crying again.

Immediately you sat back, wiping at your eyes with your newly wrapped up wrists and arms, smiling nervously. "Oh. Oh God, I'm…I'm sorry. I uh…"

Kurloz just shook his head and kissed you on the forehead, and laid you back down in the bed. This time he offered himself up to you, opening his thin arms for you and you were there, pressing your forehead into his collarbone with a sigh.

There were a few times when you had thought you said thank you to him in a hushed tone as you drifted off to sleep. The throbbing in your head was starting to ebb away into nothing and you felt taken care of for the first time in your life. This wasn't like the paternal guidance your Dad had or the background support Tavros provided; Kurloz was being a friend to you, offering to let you talk if you wanted and letting you cry and get angry.

There were a few times when you thought you head Kurloz say you were welcome as you fell asleep.