A/N: Another spam update folks! Ironically, this story has the poorest reception on fanfic (my main). But then again, I'm barely active on here anymore. I'm split between Wattpad, ao3 and HERE. Speaking of, feel free to check out my works on those other sites! There's some exclusives on Wattpad and I may post another exclusive on ao3 if I feel like it. Just to get a variety on each site :)

Anyway, I'll leave it at that. Enjoy the update loves,

D.L.D

Quote of the Chapter:

"With me, life becomes sweeter,
so she loses some of
the ability to defend herself." - The Stronger, Sandra Lim

Chapter Seventeen: I don't want you (to patch me up)

Words were a horrible thing: that is what Meliodas had decided. Words, all verbal sounds and social tools used to communicate, were horrible, terrible things that only sought to dig him deeper and deeper into the infinite abyss of his own self-misery. If only words didn't exist. If only his stupid mouth, his hardened mind, did not choose the wrong words at the wrong time.

He'd done again. He'd hurt her. Like every time this happened, like every time Meliodas let his nasty, venomous words prick at her, he hadn't meant to. Just a simple slip of the tongue - a stupid underestimate of just how cruel he could be - led to this. This horrible, terrible, avoidable, unnecessary... just this thing that he had never intended. This thing he... just didn't want.

Words. His words were the culprit of this repulsive crime. Untraceable, slippery culprits that slipped behind the scenes as soon as the crime was done; his words were such foul beings.

Yet here Meliodas was, stuck in the heat of the moment, brimming with a negative frustration that had no desire to exist and yet was so intrinsically deep-rooted inside of him. Honed and trained to be used, his anger knew no bounds; encouraged and nurtured like a blooming snake plant, his explosive side was never keen to act shy in front of anyone.

Now here he was, moments away from starting yet another yelling match between them, locked and loaded with yet another crippling bullet of an answer that will have her pretty face twisting into another avoidable frown.

What started this debate couldn't even be remembered in his mind. Silly things, meaningless topics, often started these explosive matches that would rarely end well. Once it had been about something as simple as a picture - for some peculiar reason that Meliodas just couldn't nail down within the depths of his mind. Jealousy - he begged to be the cause. In reality, it could have been anything.

"I don't really care what you do," Was his answer. His response. Cold, blunt, edged with the carefully schooled frost of his father's inherited glare, just as prickly as a tangle of dried brambles, he looked at Elizabeth.

This was to keep her distant. This was to keep her away, keep her far away, from the deeper, darker depths of his already darkened and blackened soul. At least, that is what Meliodas told himself; that is what the more callous part of him assured him of.

"You don't care?" Elizabeth mused, placing a hand on her hip. One brow was raised in suspicion, her umbrella pointed at him like an accusatory arrow. Her words were just as blatant. "At all?"

"Why would I?" He shrugged, trying to act as if the sizzling glare of the point of the umbrella did not irk him at all. A shiver tracked Meliodas' spine as he pulled open the fridge, looking for the leftovers from lunch. "You're your own person. You can do whatever you want."

"But what if I want to be around you?" Elizabeth probed almost instantly. Quick-witted, she was always extremely quick-witted. Meliodas blamed her reporter skills for this annoying attribute, always encouraging Elizabeth to dig deeper into his more simple and short bullshit answers. With her, it was never easy to lie. Every time he had to carve out small truths and stitch them together with loose strings; he couldn't ever make it all up on the spot.

Sighing Meliodas closed the fridge as he pulled out his leftovers, "Trust me, you don't."

"You don't know that," Elizabeth insisted, following him to the microwave.

"Yes I do," He retorted, popping the container in. The timer set to two minutes.

For a good moment they stared at each other, each on their own side of the microwave, its light spilling onto their faces as they studied the other: Meliodas, with his grimace and fatigued-looking eyes; Elizabeth, with her own pursed lips and inquiring gaze. For a long time only the hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, the leftovers rotating in their uniform orbits.

"Why wouldn't I want to be around you, Meliodas?" Elizabeth finally broke the silence, leaning against the counter. A hand rested against the side of her face, tilting it to the side as she scrutinised him. "Please enlighten me on why I wouldn't want to be around you."

So, so many reasons filled his mind. So many past events, so many times where he had broken her heart - shattered it into tiny, fine pieces, that only she would ignore just to carefully patch them back together months later. Too many times Meliodas had proven why Elizabeth Liones would better off without him; too many times she ignored the glaring, red flags punctuating his very being.

"Because I don't need you around," Meliodas chose to settle for the easier option - distancing himself. In the past it always worked. Distancing himself, keeping himself at bay, often resulted in the least amount of collateral damage. "I don't care about you."

"You're lying," Elizabeth called him out, shaking her head. Accusatory now, crossing the gap illuminated by the yellow light of the microwave. "You're doing it again. You're lying to try and make me drop it."

"No I'm not," Meliodas grumbled, matching her own accusations with his perfect defense. After living with her for so long, Meliodas had grown used to making complete crap seem like gold. Deflection had become his greatest tool. "I'm being honest. I was honest last time about this."

"I call bullshit," Elizabeth announced, creating more space between them. She now stood across from him, arms folded over her chest. "And you know it. You care about me - whether you want to admit it or not. You need me around."

"It's you who needs me," Meliodas corrected her, his own agitation rising with hers. Why was she adamant about this? Why did Elizabeth always have to dig deeper, poke even more, into the truth? Why couldn't she just leave some things be? "You cling to me like a lost puppy, dragging all your clingy, needy, emotional shipwreck along with you."

"A lost puppy?" Elizabeth echoed, hurt flashing across her face for the first time. Something deflated within her, cutting her voice into a quiet whisper. "That's... Is that how you see me?"

Subtly - he hoped - Meliodas swallowed. That wasn't what he was trying to say. In his own frustration, in his own agitation, he had projected his own thoughts onto his words. His stupid, thoughtless words...

"All the time," Meliodas responded, nodding.

Three clear successive beeps rang through the kitchen - the microwave. As Meliodas opened the door, steam poured out, curling from the recently heated food. Obscured within its clouds was Elizabeth, her pretty face twisted into a much more permanent and noticeable frown than the one Meliodas had predicted earlier on. A deep, dragging frown that made his gut knot as he noticed the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"Alright," Elizabeth sniffed, adjusting her jacket. Her umbrella now hung from her wrist. "I know when I'm not wanted. I'll get out of your hair now."

"Elizabeth- "

"No, no, you were very clear," She interrupted, shaking her head. Turning away from him, she went to walk away as she continued. "I'm not needed or wanted here. I just dump all my... what was it you said?" She paused at the doorway, humming. "Oh yes, clingy, needy, emotional shipwreck on everyone else. And since you know me so well, then you should also know that I wouldn't want to burden you with that anymore."

"Elizabeth- "

"Save it for someone who cares," Elizabeth called out, already putting her shoes on in the hallway. "Because as much as I do, I doubt you care about it anyway!"

With that she left the apartment, slamming the door in her wake. In the calm after the storm, Meliodas could only find himself all the more wound up, his blood surging with even more frustration as he let out a massive groan, hitting his head against the solid wall. His rage got the better of him; he was an idiot, a complete and utter idiot.

"I make it easy for her to expose herself," Meliodas murmured into the silence, still filled to the brim with buzzing fury. "Too easy." So much so that he forgets how much that he could - he can - hurt her.

That's why he always ended up cutting sharp wounds with his razor-sharp tongue; that's why she always feared when he got into these moods, anticipating the inevitable emotional assault at the expense of enduring his meaningless insults; that's why, no matter how much he tried to make it up to her, Meliodas would always feel horrible about it. Nothing ever excused his behaviour. Nothing.

And it was getting worse.

Sharp, clear, the ding of a notification pulled Meliodas from his brooding. Lit up on the screen, as if knowing he was in complete and utter despair, was the latest text from his father - ever the one to feed off his offspring's misery. Just the sight of it made Meliodas' blood boil, his heart rate pick up, but he tried to keep calm in favour of not cutting his hand with his phone screen.

Instead, Meliodas pocketed his phone once more and decided to make an early trip to the Boar Hat. He had some long overdue business to attend to.