Chapter Thirty-Five

You never did find Quince, opting instead to sit and eat some food by yourself. When Ryo left, you realized you really could use a little time to yourself. You could talk to Quince later. Your brain was shooting its neurons in the most erratic ways, and the only way you could keep up was by ignoring all of it.

It was hard to ignore, though.

It was all too much and all too fast—Jenna's dead, why did she die? Why didn't she listen why didn't she trust Quince why didn't anyone else help me look why is everyone kind of in love with me and is it really love? Do I like any of them why not all of them? Except for Don he seems to hate me now he won't even look at me there's no way we could hold a conversation. And why? Why not? Does Quince like me? Why would he? Why am I hallucinating?

Is it all connected?

No.

There's no way it could all be connected to one source or one reason—there wasn't some main antagonist or anything. Things just happen because they happen and there wasn't always anything you could do about it. Right? Isn't that something Quince talked about...? Bad things happen for no reason sometimes.

Good people get hurt sometimes. It's nonsensical and absurd. To exist is painful and for what? What is the goal? Why should you live?

Then again, why shouldn't you? You hated thinking like this. Maybe you did need to talk to Quince to get him to make sense of all this—he was always so sweet and kind to you. And he wanted to live in a little house on a hill by a lake... Every time you thought about that conversation it brought a smile to your lips. It sounded really nice.

"I wanted to be happy to be alive, and I especially wanted to feel loved and be in love."

Yeah, who didn't? Tears filled your eyes. Why did you have to be dead? Why did Quince have to be dead?

You sighed to yourself while you brought your dishes to the sink. It was a rather strange existence you were dealing with if you were being honest with yourself.

You went to his room automatically without even thinking about the direction your feet were going. You knocked on his door a few times and waited.

"(y/n)? How are you? Are you coming in?" Quince looked surprised when he opened the door, a smile immediately painting his features.

"Hi, I'm alright, and yeah, if that's okay?" You said, trying to answer everything. Quince opened the door wider without hesitating and stepped aside to give you room.

"What's up?" He asked, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, leaving more than enough room for you to join him.

You sat across from him, the mattress slightly sinking down around you. You looked at him silently first. His hair looked so soft and his eyes were so pretty, as usual. When you saw his arms, they seemed like the perfect arms to be hugged in... maybe you were feeling needy. You scolded yourself inwardly—You can't just barge into someone's room and stare at them.

"I've been thinking about something you said once," you said, surprised when your voice cracked. Shit, am I feeling an emotion or something? "About the universe being neutral and fate not existing."

Quince's light expression turned more serious—more concerned. He spoke, "Did you?"

"Yeah, I did," you nodded. "And I find it hard to stomach. I understand what you meant about people being hurt for no reason sometimes and we shouldn't say they deserve it."

"Of course," Quince agreed.

"But isn't a universe that doesn't care much scarier than a universe that hates you?" you asked, your eyes meeting his for the first time in this conversation. "If the universe doesn't care, how do I live," you began to cry. "How do I change its mind?"

Quince was quiet as the tears began to fall and panic filled his chest. He didn't like seeing you sad, he just wanted you to smile and be happy. He felt bad about what he was going to say, but he couldn't stop himself, "You can't."

The tears stopped as soon as they came although your face was still wet and your face still sad, "Then how do I live when the universe doesn't care about me...?"

Quince shifted closer, his face close enough for you to reach up and touch. "The universe doesn't have to care, (y/n)," he spoke, his hand lifted up just to the side of your face—lingering in the air but not touching you quite yet. "I care. I hope that is enough. I care for you more than the universe can. It might not make existing easier, but it might make you a little less alone."

He finally held your face in his hand and wiped away your tears as you just stared at him. It clicked in your mind. Yes, that...that's enough of course! Who cares about the universe when it never gave a damn about me or anyone else? Who cares about anything except for what's in front of me?

Who cares about anyone but Quince?

You leaned all the way forward hesitantly. You took note of Quince's surprised eyes, his breaths close enough to hit your face. You closed the gap.

You realized suddenly that you had wanted Quince to kiss you for a while, and you weren't totally sure why you were kissing him now. You were glad you were. He was so surprised that you were just pressed to him, smelling how he smelled kinda like citrus and his lips were even softer than they looked.

Quince's mind was on fire.

He had been waiting and trying to make sure everything was perfect—that you liked him very much before he made a move. He never expected you to get impatient. He had figured that with the way everyone else in the house was acting, you'd probably be stressed out even more if you found out he loved you too.

But you were kissing him.

You separated from him to breathe, but your face was still close. You opened your eyes slowly to look into his. "I'm sorry," you spoke. "Was that not okay?" You suddenly panicked.

Quince immediately pushed back into you, his arms around you and holding you tightly while you both barreled all the way back on the mattress—your back hitting the surface softly.

It was his turn to kiss you now and he wasn't going to stop himself anymore—he was going to express to you how much he loved you. His love for you was boundless, infinite, and radiating from every atom he had.

You could feel it. His affection was strong as you felt his hands leave your back to travel your arms and leave chills in their wake. When he had kissed you completely, he propped himself up on his arms and looked at you.

He looked truly confused for what was probably the first time ever, you thought. "Why did you do that?" he asked immediately, hoping that you would confess your love.

"I'm... not sure. I feel so comfortable around you, and... well, why did you kiss me back?"

He looked sad, kinda like a puppy for a minute. "Can't you tell?" he pouted. "I...I like you."

"I think I like you, too, things are just so complicated," you admitted. Why did things have to be complicated?

"I never want to stop being around you," Quince said before he could stop himself. His hair was hanging around his head and a blush immediately covered his face. How unusually bashful for him, you smiled.

"I... never want to stop being around you either," you replied. You hoped you weren't just too in the moment—you hoped you didn't regret all of this in an hour.

Quince hoped you didn't either as he leaned into you for another kiss, this one far more serious and far less innocent than the previous two.

He loved you. You could tell—he loved you and he wanted to love you. You felt so special. How could you not have known sooner?

Both of you were breathing heavily, his irregular panting between kisses fanning your face. He would kiss you once and then again, and again and again—over and over, each one more loving than the last. You moved with him, arms around him. You were a little surprised when you felt his hand under your shirt and resting on your ribcage. It felt nice, though, and you had no objections as he felt the skin that was usually covered.

You wondered how far it was going to go, really, until there was a knocking on his door and you both froze. Quince sat up and blinked twice. The person knocked again, causing you to sit up quickly and stand from the bed as if you would be in trouble for sitting on it. Quince regretfully stood and walked to his door and opened it.

You looked over Quince's shoulder and locked eyes with the interrupter. They looked surprised, and then upset. Quince tried to greet them, but they just stared inwards to you.

shit.

You stared back for forever before they demanded to be let in and pushed past Quince to get to you--

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