Chase Trinaeste x f!MC | shepherds of haven | rating: T | “break up”, hurt no comfort | summary: a snippet of how I imagine the scene of the fabled “break up” might go when Chase inevitably attempts to put more distance between them. (I leave what Chase said prior to this out because IDK~ it’s just about the PAIN FOLKS) | warning: minor spoilers for Chase’s backstory etc etc
“...did I– I… what did I do wrong? Just tell me what I did wrong, please.”
Because that’s all she can think. She’s done something. She’s made some mistake that has made him no longer care about her. The look in her eyes, helpless and searching, desperate to try and understand why.
He doesn’t have an answer for her. He doesn’t have an answer and the look of sheer pain on her face is too much for him. He reached out to touch her, to reassure her of– what? What? And in an instant her brow narrowed and she flinched back. His fingertips brushed empty air. He let his hand hang there for a moment before he dropped it to his side.
What had he expected?
Chase said nothing. He let his face mask itself into an indifferent facade, his eyes unfocused, even as he met hers directly. He didn’t want to see her expression anymore. He didn’t want to be here anymore. Doing this. Feeling this.
She took in a breath and he nearly flinched himself at how the sound shuttered in her chest.
“... you said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she whispered. Her words were so soft, so broken and yet so deadly.
He couldn’t breathe. He felt dizzy. Sick. His ears rang faintly and a chill settled over his skin, numbing him to the bone.
Her hands balled into fists, her eyes turned down to the floor. Ashamed. Humiliated. Hurt. Where was the anger? Where was the resentment? The hatred? She didn’t look at all disappointed in him– she looked disappointed in herself.
This wasn’t how he imagined this going in his head. This wasn’t– this wasn’t what he wanted. Was it? Was it?
“You lied,” she said flatly and then, without another word, left the room. The door closed behind her, the click somehow rattled Chase’s brain into working once more as he gasped in a breath. Every instinct, every fiber of his being screamed at him to go after her… but he steeled himself. Forced himself to a stillness that was wholly unnatural to him in every way.
He had thought– he had thought the feelings that were building, so intense and so warm that burned through him when he was with her had been the worst possible thing he could feel.
He was wrong.
This? This was worse. This was hael itself. Because he’d hurt her. He’d hurt her so badly he half believed already even if he had gone after her the damage was done. Permanent. She would never, could never, trust him again. A few flippant words and he had managed to undo everything.
And that had been the plan hadn’t it? This is what he had wanted, wasn’t it? Freedom. No strings. And yet somehow that thread that had intertwined his heart to hers was still there. Frayed and torn and barely held together, but there.
And it hurt.
Worse than a rope around his neck.
Worse than a bullet in his chest.
And not just because she was gone, but because… the way she had… the way she had looked at him. Her heart, shattering in her eyes for him to see. For him to regret.
Chase passed a hand over his eyes, rubbed his brow fiercely, digging a thumb into his temple. His stomach rolled. In place of the chill a terrible heat now surged through his body, setting his heart off into a thunderous pace.
He swallowed thickly, throat dry and tight.
It would pass. It would all pass and he would feel the relief that ending something gave him. It always did.
