SHIP — Y/N x Manon

Request by @ty_track45.

Written by, @Minaliter (Me!)

The tension in the air was thick, palpable as Manon stood with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing in frustration. "I don't see why this is such a big deal, Y/N," she spat, her voice laced with annoyance. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill."

Y/N's chest tightened, their heart pounding in their ears. They had tried to be patient, to stay calm as the argument slowly spiraled out of control, but Manon's dismissive tone had finally broken something inside them. They'd had enough.

"No, Manon," Y/N shot back, their voice sharp and tinged with anger. "You don't get it. This isn't just about the sleeping arrangements. It's about everything. Every single time something goes wrong, you act like I don't matter, like I'm just here to take the scraps."

Manon's jaw clenched. "That's ridiculous. I never said you didn't matter. You're blowing this way out of proportion."

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, though it held no humor. "Really? Then tell me why I'm always the one left to deal with the short end of the stick? Why am I always the one who gets the worst of it?"

"You think I want this?" Manon snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You think I *chose* this? The circumstances suck for everyone! But instead of sticking together, you're here throwing a tantrum about a bed. It's just a place to sleep, Y/N. That's all."

A sharp ache blossomed in Y/N's chest, the words cutting deeper than anything they had expected. The rawness in Manon's voice, the way she dismissed their feelings, was like salt in a wound. *A place to sleep*? Y/N had fought for so long to be seen as more than an afterthought, to be acknowledged in the ways they deserved. But it always felt like they were invisible next to Manon, who seemed to command attention and resources without question.

"I don't care if it's just a bed, Manon," Y/N bit out, their voice trembling slightly with the force of their emotion. "It's never just a bed with you. You always get the best of everything, and I'm sick of it. You never even consider what I need. It's always what you want."

Manon's expression faltered for a moment, but the defense kicked in quickly, her features hardening again. "I don't ask for the best, Y/N! It's not my fault things just fall into my lap."

"Yeah? Well, maybe if you didn't always take the best for yourself, we could both have a fair shot at things. But no, you've already decided that I'm not worth the effort. I'm just... here. You don't even notice how alone I feel sometimes, how much I'm constantly scrambling for your attention, for a little bit of fairness."

Manon's lips pressed together in a thin line, and for a moment, there was a strange flicker in her eyes—something like guilt, maybe. But it was fleeting, disappearing before it could register as anything real. "You're being dramatic," she muttered, the sharpness of her tone making Y/N flinch. "You're always like this. Can't you just let things go for once? We've got enough going on without you acting like the world's against you every single minute."

The words hit like a slap. *Always like this*. Y/N felt the sting of the accusation, the weight of the years they had spent trying to explain themselves to Manon, to be seen for who they were. And yet, every time they tried to express how they felt, it was met with dismissal, with irritation, as if their emotions were just another inconvenience.

"I'm done," Y/N said flatly, their voice strained. "I'm done trying to make you understand. It's never going to happen, is it?"

Manon looked like she was about to argue, to say something that might have made things worse, but Y/N didn't give her the chance. Without another word, they spun on their heel, their anger fueling their every step. Their breathing came fast, heart racing as they stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

They needed air. They needed space. And maybe, just maybe, they needed to be away from Manon—for their own sanity.

The night air hit them as they stepped outside, cool and biting against their flushed skin. Y/N didn't look back as they walked down the path, too angry, too hurt to think clearly. The world around them seemed to disappear as their thoughts consumed them—how long had they been feeling this way? How long had they been invisible in their own life?

Finally, they reached a bench beneath the trees. It wasn't much, but it was quiet. They sat down heavily, their breath coming in ragged bursts, the argument still echoing in their ears. The cool metal beneath them did little to calm the heat still burning inside their chest, but it was a small comfort nonetheless.

Y/N didn't know how long they sat there, their mind racing, the sting of hurtful words still fresh. The silence around them felt heavy, and for the first time in a long while, they wondered if they'd ever be able to repair things with Manon—or if they even should. The anger had started to dull, replaced by an aching weariness, but the pain of feeling unimportant lingered.

Could things ever change between them? Would Manon ever see them the way they needed to be seen?

Y/N sighed deeply, staring at the stars above, their gaze unblinking as they tried to quiet the storm inside their mind. The night felt endless, but they had no intention of going back anytime soon. Not yet.