Enjoy my drunk thoughts!! Not proofread :>
Copia fic except its far too deep and real to how much he hates what has become of him but he has you ❤️
TW! Depression / depressive thoughts
Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork, and a false front as someone important. Thats all Copia had now. But nothing was as special as being the clergy’s beloved Papa. Now, now that title belonged to the twin he never knew of, a man who had no experience in anything relating to the Church. Copia worked his way to the top, or at least in his mind he did. Sure, he was actually Emeritus bloodline, but he worked his damn ass off to become Papa. Nothing will ever come close to the way the people cheered, no screamed for him. And he sure hopes Perpetua doesn’t get that same sound of praise. At least he had a private office still, and a computer filled with whatever he could imagine up. Though, he found now that he just spaced out at the lewd images when he had meant to get off on them. He was far too lost in his own thoughts to even think about finding that kind of release. He could be releasing a new album, but no, he was just Frater. As far as he could see? Thats all he would be titled as. He didn’t even realize he’s been spaced out, leather glove creaking with how tight his fist was clenched for the past 30 minutes. Or that someone had been rapping against the thick wooden door. knock, knock, knock. Finally, he snaps from his thoughts, “come in” he hardly mumbles, not even sure if he spoke at all. But the way the knob twists tell him he was at least a bit audible to whomever was on the other side. Surely just more paperwork to stack on the weeks worth he already had.
Copia finally looks up as the door clicks shut, finally his thoughts silence even just for a moment. You, the only thing he had left. Or at least thats how he saw it, his ghouls had been taken by Perpetua, or had moved on to their own lives in the Ministry. But Gods, the way you looked at him, it almost made him forget what he was moping about in the first place. Almost. Your words barely registered in his mind, something about breakfast but Copia hardly ate these days. Far too busy or lost in his head to even think about bacon or toast. But, you insisted, always you insisted. No matter how tucked away in his office he was you had a warm plate of food or hot coffee for him so he “wouldn’t wither away” as you put it. He musters a smile and a soft thank you at the kind gesture, but that just won’t do. Your eyebrows furl, ever so slightly, the corners of your lips downturning. “C…” your warm voice starts, impossibly soft. And for once his focus isn’t on himself. His mismatched eyes meet yours for the first time in a long week. His face falls when he sees the concern in your gaze. “Are you feeling well?” Your words hit far harder than he thought they should, far deeper than he’d like. You wander to his side with silent footsteps on the tacky rug he absolutely insisted on. It’s a moment before he finally musters the will to speak. The words tumble out before he could even filter them, “no, tesoro.” You look at him with those soft eyes and Gods does it make his heart burn in the worst ways. Your arms wrap around him faster than he could even breathe and his own wrap around your warm frame even faster. He didn’t even realize his tears fell until they stained your shirt, the droplets running his black paint from his eyes down his worn cheeks.
Your hands were wiping the paint laced droplets before you realized what was happening. Pulling him to his feet and to the couch, tucking him against you until you were sure the two of you couldn’t possible get closer. Copia’s warm voice filled the room, cracking but steady. “I don’t know who I am anymore, tesoro. Everything I worked for.. everything I wanted.. it’s all gone. I’ve heard what they’ve said, how they see me now. I’m not their Papa anymore, a nothing, replaced by my own twin.” Your breath catches in your throat. “You are everything, C” Your warm voice cuts through. “You are.. my everything” You admit far too quietly, but he catches it just as much as his heart catches in his chest. His gaze softens a fraction, and he finally looks up at you from where his head rested on your shoulder. “You don’t mean that” he whispers, but the way your hand moves to rest on his tear-tainted cheek makes him second guess the second he speaks. Your gazes linger on each other longer than either of you realize, the clock ticking on ignored in the background. Neither of you even noticed the way your faces neared until your lips were ghosting each others. Your gaze drifts down towards his inviting lips, a silent ask. And he nods, almost too quickly. You were his friend and all he could think about in this moment was pulling you impossibly closer and pressing his lips against your gentle ones. But the way you look at him tickles his thoughts in ways that made him second guess the title friend. Your lips finally meet, eyes fluttering shut as he moves his leather-clad hand to caress your cheek. And maybe, just maybe everything was alright. Maybe he wasn’t Cardinal, or even Papa, but he was yours, and that was enough.
blakekathryn
janainaart
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
kaledo-art
