i feel like tybalt would lay with his s/o (both have bpd or a cluster b disorder) and tybalt would murmer sometimes "don't look at me." He's ashamed of himself and who he's becoming because of it, and it worries him. "Don't look at me." "Tybalt?" "Don't look at me, okay?" A solemn silence cut through the room, as Y/N held Tybalt in their arms, hiding his face in the crook of their neck. "I won't look, okay? I won't look at you." Your hand gently rubbed his back, yet you swore you felt him tense at your mere touch. "Tybalt, I'm here for you. I'm here, darling." You whispered sweet consolation in his ears, and he felt like the internal inferno that scorches his mind just...calmed down. His mind was plagued with you, your sweet words, your touch. He trembled as you held him securely. What kind of man is he? Trembling in his darling's arms? How disgusting. How disgusting he is. It feels like a trap. He's not deserving. He isn't. He never is. He never is. He never is. He never is. He never- "Ty?" He whimpered, and clung to you as if you would leave him. As if you wanted to. "Am I.....disgusting?" "What?" "You heard me. I know you did." His throat burned as he fought back his tears. He hated cracking. He hated showing weakness. "Ty, you're not disgusting. Why would you think that?" Liar. He knows you're saying that to make him feel better. You don't mean that. "Why are you....with me?" "Because I love you, because you understand me, and because I can read you." "Wh...what?" "I understand you, because you're like me, but better. You're cool, strong, and aren't as emotional. I want to feel like you." He shot up, now looking at you. His eyes were a dam ready to break- no, he was a dam ready to break, but not yet. Not until he told you his secret. "You don't want that. You never want that." His nails dug into your clothes, as his hand grabbed your shoulders for support. "You want to feel. You understand others." "I don't want to hurt anymore." "You need to. It shows you feel. It shows you're....you're human." Tears fell down on your cheek, as he sniffled and sobbed, his grip tightening. "Please. Please feel. Please be human. Please." He hastedly kissed your lips, with nothing but you on his mind. Your touch. Your scent. How intoxicating you were, even if you were considered disgusting by others. You thought he was lovely, even as the mess he is, he had to revere you. You melted into the kiss softly, and wrapped your hands around his neck, as he held you tightly against his body. He hates it. He hates how silent you make him. He hates how vulnerable he is with you. He hates how you love him. But, he doesn't hate you. He loves you. He'd die for you.