Bright sunshine fluttered gracefully through the blinds and onto the lover's intertwined bodies. Tyler lie awake, tangled between the satin sheets. His thighs throbbed painfully, the bandages rubbing together uncomfortably each time he moved his legs, or moved in general. He definitely regretted the events that occurred mere hours ago.

The brunet sighed heavily, remembering how he promised the redhead he'd clean the mess from the night before.

Slowly, he removed himself from Josh's embrace and stood from the bed with a stretch. He glanced down at his thighs, shocked at how much of his skin was covered with gauze and bandages. How much of him did the glass cut, and how much blood did he lose? He remembered his vision becoming a little splotchy, but it wasn't too bad.

He glanced across the room and saw himself in the mirror. He noticed bandages on his hips as well. God, how stupid could he have been?

Then he noticed something else. Not completely physically, but his appearance was a factor.

Whoever was staring back at him was not Tyler Joseph. It was someone who stole his name and face, posing as him. He looked fatigued, which added on to how he was becoming unrecognizable.

Of course, he had always been a bit demented and dark, but what was happening to him now? He'd never had such morbid thoughts or urges, he was genuinely scared for his own sanity.

But if he was scared for his sanity, what would his redheaded lover think? That frightened him, more than the consequences of murder. Truly, it did.

He held his lover in the dearest placements of his heart and he was all his heart could ever desire. So if these awful thoughts continued to worsen, or if they became a reality, what could happen?

Would Josh take an ax to his head, forcing his deepest, darkest thoughts and morbid desires out with the crimson liquid? Or would he leave the brunet be, leaving the situation be, allowing it to go unnoticed?

No, the redhead would notice Tyler's constant panic towards himself. They'd known each other since high school. Polar opposites, they were, but they fell in love. Josh called their love opposite magnet ends attracting, as cliché as it was. The lovey-dovey stuff was bullshit.

Woah, no, it wasn't. He loved Josh, right? They were in love and couldn't be separated no matter the situation, right? He had the irresistible urge to throw himself out of the window if that's what it took to stop the madness in his mind.

He shook his head to rid the thoughts and slowly tiptoed out of the room and down the hall. He was freezing cold, goosebumps adorning his bare arms. He was too lazy to put on more clothes, so he'd just have to deal with the cold.

Tyler groaned when he walked into a clean living room. He'd told Josh to let him clean up his own mess, why couldn't he just listen? God, if he could just-

The brunet stopped himself from finishing that thought. He decided to focus on the piece of paper sitting upon the couch cushions. He slowly walked over to read it, smiling once he noticed it was a note from Josh.

Morning, bumble. I know, I know. You told me to let you clean it up yourself, but I couldn't resist. You need rest, considering the circumstances. Just clean up the stain and wash the dishes, and we can call it a deal. We'll have a talk about this morning sometime later. I'd like to know what happened. Yours, Josh.

Tyler grinned at the slight innocent tone to the note, but he couldn't help but feel anxiety arise in his chest. Josh wanted to talk about it? Later?

That left a bad taste in Tyler's mouth, definitely. He didn't want to talk about what happened while the other was gone; why he was in a pool of his own blood.

Pushing the thought of the inevitable conversation from his mind, the brunet turned to go grab the supplies he needed to rid of the blood stains stuck in the floor.

He jumped, seeing his redheaded love starting to walk towards him, rubbing his tired eyes. "Morning, Ty." He muttered, kissing Tyler's cheek tiredly. He then turned to walk into the kitchen. Probably to make a cup of coffee to wake him up further.

The brunet stood, completely still. He could scream. Josh was so nonchalant about everything so far. Had he forgotten about how he wanted to talk about the events of earlier that morning, or was he just going to let the brunet worry about it for hours before he finally decided to talk? Tyler honestly didn't want to find out.

"Morning, Joshie." He muttered, going to sit down on the couch, completely abandoning the idea of cleaning. He'd do that later. "How'd you sleep?"

"Decently, how'd you sleep, flower?" His cheeks flushed at the pet name.

The brunet hoped Josh was too busy making his coffee to notice him picking at the edges of the bandages, borderline peeling them off. "Surprisingly well."

An awkward silence pursued. Well, awkward for Tyler, at least. But could he consider it awkward if it wasn't? Maybe an anxious silence would be a better name for it.

The brunet blinked a few times, noticing he'd zoned out, and was staring at a particular spot on the floor. He noticed the redhead was now sitting on the couch as well, sipping his bitter drink peacefully, watching something on the television.

He must've been zoned out awhile, if Josh's had already been brewed.

The near-silence allowed Tyler to overthink about the events he knew would come soon enough. How would his redheaded love initiate the conversation? Would he just dive into it, or ease in? The brunet wondered if he was mad that he'd left such a mess and broke a mug.

Maybe that's why he hadn't started asking questions yet, because he was calming himself.

Yeah, that had to be it.

"Tyler?"

God, he was so scared, and so fucked.

—

1000 words!

Okay, listen. I didn't really plan on publishing this chapter today, but I couldn't help it.

How has your day been so far?