what do you know of love? you’re a wrecking ball of a person, you exist only to destroy. what’s one boy to a lifetime of sadness, what’s the point of sticking around, you have things to do and places to go and people to crush beneath the weight of your apathy. you aren’t made for this. you’re brimstone and stormbreak, all push and no give. you flinch when they touch you. you don’t know what love is. you take it and spend it and never reciprocate. you can’t weep for what you never had, never knew how to accept. you can’t scorn the world for your own inhibitions.
so spare him. it’s just a crush. it’s just grief. it’s just that you thought you were over this and yet here we are. you can’t be stuck on someone who was never yours, who has just as many cracks. your lips would set his skin on fire, burn him out faster than the whiskey in his eyes. she can kiss them better, you know. she can heal him. all you’d do is shatter what could have been fixed if you’d only let it be. you don’t deserve his kindness, the gentleness of his smile, the warmth of his fingertips. you don’t want it anyway. there have been far too many who’ve tried and failed, who have shriveled up in the process, charred to a crisp from the violence of your sadness. don’t ruin the last sweet boy on earth. don’t twist him into another one of your monsters.
let him go. he won’t come back to you but isn’t that the point? let him be safe, and live his life, let him be a person. there are plenty of other hearts to wreck. accept your fate, Soul Killer—you’ve always been the villain in this story. there is no room for love when you’re Death.