'Fox, this is boring. Why do I have to do so much damn paperwork!? I'm supposed to be planning shit to overthrow the Stars and become king of the Multiverse or whatever. Not this bullshit. Fuck this. I need a damn break.'

Nightmare sighed, getting up and wincing as his back popped and sent twinges of discomfort shooting up- most likely due to the fact that the king had been slouched over for a good few hours. Just more evidence that he needs a break from the papers.

'When was the last time I actually took care of this body?' Nightmare pondered. Having a physical body definitely had its perks, but it was also a pain to take care of. He had to do things like eat and sleep and shower from time to time. It was all rather annoying and pointless to Nightmare, but it was required if he wanted to keep himself alive.

'Let's see... The last time I ate was a few days ago... Though, I just finished my coffee. I'll need to make more and perhaps eat some bread. No- toast. With butter. Now we're talking. As for showering, that was around three or so days ago. Eh, I'll do it tomorrow at the very least. And then there's the concept of sleep. When was the last time I slept?' Nightmare looked over at his bed. He had made it a few weeks ago. And it was still made. Nightmare groaned inwardly. That wasn't good, it meant he hadn't slept in weeks. He made a mental note to actually sleep tonight, and made his way to the bathroom to splash some water on his face- hopefully, it would clear his sluggish vision and wake him up a bit.

Upon looking in the mirror, Nightmare cursed. What he saw in the reflection was not exactly an ideal appearance. His eye had dimmed down- what was once a bright and piercing cyan was now a dull, flickering turquoise-ish shade. From an outside view, it looked as if it would flicker out at any given moment. Worse yet- the tar-like coating of negativity around Nightmare had gone from a rich black to a fading grey. That was never good. If he stayed like this for much longer, the negativity would be absorbed back into his body, and he would be stuck in that weak, disgusting passive form. Oh, how he hated that form. How he despised it and the memories it shouldered. He never wanted to go back to that. Never.

Never.

Never.

For a split second, the reflection in the mirror changed. It was him. He bore his vivid and bright violet eyelights, and his purple tunic laced with gold. The tunic was held together by a belt with NM gracefully engraved into the golden buckle, and he wore plum-colored pants with lilac boots. His handmade golden circlet had long since disappeared, it is melted down and shaped into a necklace. The necklace itself was comprised of a thin golden chain and a slightly large crescent moon with a small circle surrounding it was the centerpiece of it all.

There was no question about it. The reflection was him. Passive.

Anger boiled within Nightmare. How dare that mirage be there!? He hated it! And then, before he realized his own actions, Nightmare's hand raised, and with every ounce of strength his blind rage granted him, he shoved his hand forward, shattering the mirror.

Nightmare took a good look at the mirror- which no longer showed the other side of himself he so dearly despised. It was completely shattered where he had hit it, and large cracks sprouted from it, gradually becoming smaller until they faded. A few shards were caught in his hand, but he wasn't bleeding. He had thickened the negativity in that area. As soon as he undid it, the shards fell out, a black resin covering them.

'Yep. Need a break.' Nightmare sighed, giving one final look at the mirror, then walking out of the bathroom, and opening his door. The hallway was empty, so he stepped out. Just when he deemed it safe to retreat downstairs, Cross suddenly teleported directly in front of him, causing a sharp yelp from the king.

"Hah! I knew that would work. Good thing I got my timing correct." Cross spoke, a smug grin taking up his expression.

"Great, good job, you scared the shit out of me, now get out of my way, I want coffee and toast." Nightmare spoke, one of his tentacles pushing Cross out of his way.

"And then do you plan on going back into your room and continue to destroy your body from the inside out, as usual?" Cross said, speaking in a tone that implied that this was totally normal.

"Do you ever shut up? And no, I'm taking a break." Nightmare snapped.

"It is within my capabilities to not speak, I simply choose not to in order to avoid thinking about how none of this matters, how depressing my life is, aaaand the realization that today is different. And as long as I keep talking, I get to push those thoughts out! Kinda like how you stay in that form." Cross droned, his tone seemingly dead compared to his earlier lighter tone. "Oh, and I made you coffee."

"Did you seriously just have a minor existential crisis and then change the subject to coffee?" Nightmare gave Cross a mixed look of concern, disappointment, and amusement. Cross shrugged.

"It's getting cold. The coffee, I mean."

Nightmare kept looking at Cross, then he sighed and made his way down the two flights of stairs, and to the kitchen to drink the much-needed coffee, and make some toast. Buttery toast. Crispy, warm, buttery toast. And black coffee. Yes, the ultimate meal in Nightmare's eye. Buttered toast and black coffee.

Nightmare's eye landed on the coffee maker and quickly grabbed the jug, taking a sip to see if it was worth drinking. The coffee was burning hot, and bitter enough to make any normal person cringe and spit it out. Perfect. A small smile made its way onto Nightmare's face as he takes the lid off of the coffee jug, taking yet another sip from it. A small plate with a little pile of buttered toast sat in the corner of his vision.

'Huh... Cross knows exactly how to make a king happy. I'll thank him later. Maybe. I don't know. Though, the coffee tastes odd... Eh, I'm usually the one who makes my coffee, maybe he made it differently.' Nightmare continued pondering the coffee as he took another drink.

Once the king had finished his coffee and toast, he made his way back up to his room. He took a break, now he had to get back to work. He finished his trek back upstairs, noting the lack of lackies, and opened the door to his room. He walked in and took a look around, contemplating whether he should continue working or take a shower. He decided against both when a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him and drew him to the bed. He flopped down on it, not even bothering to cover himself with a blanket, and allowed for sleep to consume him.

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Thaaaats part one of "Cross Can't Handle Emotions... At All"

Lol hope you enjoyed XD

TheChildOfAGroup (aka Killer )you cannot escape the Dom Cross