Swift
It's been two weeks and Swift has yet to show up around my apartment. Everyday after school I would wait for him, but he never showed up. Everyday I would look outside and hope he would be there, but all I would see is an empty fire escape. I would catch glimpses of him jumping across rooftops with his brothers if I was lucky, but other than those tiny glimpses I never really saw him.
I sat on my bed with a thump one night after school, having waited for Swift for almost an hour before deciding to walk home. I curled up into a ball as guilt flooded my system and poured out through my eyes. I made no sound, minus a few slow breaths.
However, after a minute of silent tears, I realized that maybe he wasn't around because he didn't think I was ready to apologize. Maybe he had stopped waiting for me at school because he didn't think that I felt guilt or regret, no matter how much I tried to convey them through my expressions and body language.
So, I stood up and wiped away my tears, fixed my clothes and ran a brush through my hair before opening my window. I stepped out onto the fire escape and leaned onto the railings, keeping my eyes peeled for the blue-clad mutant punk.
I stood out in the cold wind for about an hour, looking around and watching the sun slowly descend down past the horizon. When the moon slowly started to take its place, I almost gave up. With a huff, I turned around to crawl back into my room.
Muscular and warm arms suddenly wrapped around my waist, gently pulling me back out into the cold air. I felt my heartbeat pound against my ribcage as a pair of three-fingered hands slowly ran over my stomach and sides, easing my body until I realized that I was now laying against his plastron. I felt my eyes well up again. I placed my hands over his as tears fell down my cheeks and stained my face once again.
"...Babe, please don't cry," he whispered, pressing his face into the crook of my neck. I felt a soft kiss in that spot, making my heart ache even more.
I turned around in his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He returned the hug, holding me to his chest and cradling me as I cried. We stayed out there for what seemed like hours, just being with each other.
Eventually we went back inside, which proved to be much warmer than sitting outside all night. Swift and I apologized, and he explained why he wasn't around.
"The amount of purple dragons in the area have skyrocketed, and I've had to deal with the issues. They know our turf borders and they're trespassing on purpose. Probably 'cause they know where you live and consider you an easy target...I'm sorry I left you hangin' for so long..." He sighed and pulled me onto his lap, rubbing my shoulders and burying his face once more into my neck.
I let out a soft sigh, gently playing with the tail ends of his mask. "I'm sorry I accused you of cheating...I've just never had to worry about this before...About someone protecting me from a gang...I could only think of the worst possible thing...I thought you didn't love me anymore,"I whispered, holding back more tears that threatened to fall.
Suddenly, Swift's head shot up and I was met with skeptical eyes. "Now why the fuck would you think that, huh?" he asked, causing me to suddenly become extremely nervous.
"Listen, you are the only one out there that I care about. I wouldn't have stayed here this long if you were just any other girl. We've been together for almost a year, (Y/N). Don't think that I suddenly stopped loving you now," he sighed out, pressing a kiss to my lips. One that I had been wanting for weeks. I was quick to kiss him back, relief flooding my system and making my heart swell. Finally, things were back to normal.

Rebel
     My face was hurting for two weeks after Rebel had hit me. Many people had asked how I got the giant black eye, and I just told them a lame story about how I ran into a pole. It made me the laughing stock at school, but I didn't care. My heart was too numb and broken to really care what others said or thought about me.
     Everything hurt for those dreadful two weeks. My heart ached, my face throbbed and my emotions were causing my chest to painfully tighten as I kept them in. Surprisingly, I didn't shed a single tear about what had happened. But even with that kind of achievement, my heart still cried out to Rebel in silence. It was painful, even more so than my black eye.
     One night I was having trouble sleeping. I couldn't seem to close my eyes-it's like I was afraid of something in the darkness. I constantly got up to turn on the light and examined every corner of my room for any signs of anything strange. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The only thing there was either darkness or light. So what did my eyes keep seeing in the shadows?
     As a result of that sleepless night, I was a bitch the next morning. I snapped at anyone who dared to insult me and even made a death threat to that stupid Meghan Valley, who had attempted to once again use me for her benefit.
     "Listen here you haughty little bitch. I'm not letting you fuck with me anymore. So here's the deal-Leave me alone and I won't fucking gut you like a fish with the tip of my pen. Got it?"
     She ran off and I have yet to hear from her since then. I guess Rebel's attitude has rubbed off on me. He'd say something like that...
     A couple days later is when I finally heard from him. I'm sitting on my rooftop, watching the traffic below in my silk pajamas. Nothing's really happened other than the fact that the teasing had finally stopped. It felt nice not to be picked on for once.
     Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. A rough, calloused, three-fingered hand. I let out a shaky sigh, the feelings that I had finally managed to at least control hopping into my throat.
     "...Can I help you?" I asked bitterly, not daring to face him. If I looked into those multi-colored eyes I was bound to shatter.
     "...Yeah, ya can. You can let me apologize," he replied, moving to sit down next to me. I kept my gaze forward.
     "Apologize? Huh, never thought you the type," I muttered, earning a huff in response.
     "There's a lot ya don't know 'bout me. There's a lot that ya do know 'bout me too. And one thing ya do know is that...I lose control. A lot. I do things that I don't mean ta, like punching ya in the face. And...I'm sorry. Real sorry. Listen, I talked with ma fam about helpin' me control ma temper. Just so I don't hurt ya ever again. I...I want ya ta be apart of that," he whispered, gently taking my hand and pressing it to his cracked plastron. I glanced over at him, eyes welling up at his words.
     "...Aw c'mon sweetheart don't cry," he chuckled out, placing a hand on my cheek and wiping away the tears that had already fallen. I laughed with him, placing my free hand over his.
     "That's got to be the sweetest thing you've ever said or done for me," I chuckled out. An expression of mock surprise crossed his face as a response.
     "Really? Outta all the things I done for ya, promising to never hurt ya again is the sweetest?" He replied, feigning shock. "Not the dates or saving ya from thugs? Damn...I gotta try harder."
     I shook my head, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on his lips.
     "No...What you do is enough. Thank you..."

Ghost
God, I've been feeling like shit ever since Ghost and I fought. It's only been about three or four weeks, but it feels like it's been fucking months. I can't seem to calm down or forget about him. I keep repeating what I said to him in my head and it makes my heart burn. I wanna apologize, but I every time I try to call him he doesn't answer. I text him and he doesn't reply. I leave a note on the window in hopes he would see it, but the next morning it's gone, blown away by the wind no doubt.
     I had also fallen back into my depressive phase. I was finally coming around, feeling happy and less self-conscious. I smiled and laughed more often, even making a couple of new friends at school. But the minute I thought he had left me was the minute all those voices came back. When all that negative energy came back. It was small at first, simply in the back of my mind, but it steadily got larger and heavier. I began to cry more often. I began to compare myself to others more often. I looked myself in the mirror and the voice said I was ugly and fat. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't seem to. I became angrier and avoided my new friends. I was back to my original self.
     I ticked more often as well, like I did before I met Ghost. I ticked violently when I was stressed out. It would show in my writing at school or when I wrote notes to Ghost. They would get messier and messier until I eventually had to type it out on a computer or use those stupid letter stickers. I felt so weighed down and stressed all over again.
     One night I was having a fit. I was screaming and yelling, throwing stuff around and breaking things around my apartment. I cussed and screamed until my landlord had to come up and attempt to quiet me down. Upon seeing my frazzled appearance and destroyed apartment room after I opened the door, he asked if I was okay. After replying with a sarcastic and venomous "peachy", he left me to my devices. Although after his visit I decided to try and calm down so I could clean up the place. Broken pieces of china were everywhere, as well as splintered wood. Good thing I had shoes on...
     But before I could get to cleaning, I glanced to Ghost's window and noticed a black figure plucking off the note I had left for the night. The note itself was soggy and wet from the downpour going on outside, but I was far too interested in the dark figure to care about it at the time.
     A flash of lightning suddenly revealed the face of the figure for just a split second, barely enough time for me to see.
     It was Ghost.
     Once he retrieved the note, he looked up and we locked eyes for a moment. Then, he turned around and went to jump off from the windowsill.
     I raced to the window, opening it and grabbing onto his shell as he jumped. I slid out the window with ease, falling with him into the rain.
     I suddenly lost my grip on his shell, but two arms wrapped around me just in time for him to pull me to his front. He landed on the ground with me in his arms, shaking and twitching violently.
     He set me down carefully, helping me steady myself.
     "Are you okay?" He asked, and I nodded. He let out a sigh of relief.
     "Good. Now...WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" He suddenly yelled, causing me to jump back. I stared at him wide-eyed, never having heard him that loud before.
     "What if I didn't catch you in time?! You would be on the fucking ground bleeding to death! YOU NEARLY GOT YOURSELF FUCKING KILLED!"
     "DYING OUT HERE WOULD BE MUCH BETTER THAN LIVING IN MISERY WITHOUT YOU, YOU FUCKING PRICK!" I screamed back, causing his eyes to widen as well. He then growled in annoyance before turning around to walk away.
     I leaped forward, wrapping my arms around his torso and somehow managing to pull him back. He turned around, staring at me in confusion.
     "What the fuck, (Y/N)?! Are you fucking crazy?!" He yelled, trying to pry me off. I shook my head and suddenly began to cry as I yelled back.
     "Listen you prick! I-I-I'm sorry for what I f-f-f-fucking said, okay? I can't i-i-imagine a world without you in it. So s-s-s-stop running away from me!"
     He stopped moving. Suddenly, I was in front of him, hugging him tightly. He sighed out, gently patting my back with one hand and my wet hair with the other.
     "God, you can't seem to be on your own. I leave for a month and by the time I come back...Your apartment is wrecked and you're jumping out of windows..." he muttered, leaning down to lift me up into his arms. He maneuvered me to his back so he could scale the wall and get me back inside.
     He carried me across the floor due to the glass and the fact that my shoes were somehow lost in our encounter. He went all the way to my bathroom, the only thing that hadn't been totally fucked up.
     After drying off and clearing off the couch, we finally talked and properly apologized. He explained to me how he was collecting my notes as a way to see how I was doing without him. Apparently, he was planning on coming back tomorrow, since I had obviously been doing poorly. But hey, at least there was some sort of happy ending...

M.C.
(Okay, so this section switches between Your POV and your little sibling's POV.)
Sibling's POV

(Y/N) hasn't been in a good mood lately. She keeps on coming home from school, looking like a big old sad sack before running up to her room. She won't even play with me anymore! I get so bored when I'm by myself. I wish M.C. was here. He usually plays with me. He even taught me how to play video games! He's my favorite person ever! It just sucks that I don't know how to turn the game stuff on. He never taught me that.
One day, I'm playing a board game Mommy got out for me. She played with me for a bit before leaving for work. She's an awesome Mom like that. Daddy sometimes plays with me too.
Well, after they left, I hear someone knocking on the door. I go to answer, and I'm surprised to see M.C. there! I jump up and give him a big hug, and he hugs me back. Then, he asks me a question.
"Hey little (dude/dudette)! Where's your big sis?" He asked this like he was nervous or something. I just shrugged.
"She's not home yet. She had to stay late for something. Well, she'll be glad to see you when she gets home." I walk back into the room, M.C. following behind me. I sit down and continue my game, still bored out of my mind.
"...How's she doing?" He asked, and I just shrugged again.
"She's been real grumpy lately. Really sad too. She never stays down here for long, and doesn't play with me anymore. I have no idea what's going on," I said back, looking over my shoulder at him. "Maybe you can find out what's going on! She'll definitely talk to you!" I said excitedly, watching as his face lights up with a smile.
He picks me up, swinging me around as I laugh.
"You're such a smart kid, little (dude/dudette)!"

Your POV

School was hell. Walking home was hell. Everything was hell. Why couldn't I just get over him? What about him made my heart ache for him so much? He hasn't come over in weeks. He's done with me, I know it. The silent treatment that he was giving me was fucking with my life. I can't focus and it's so hard not to bring him up or think about him. I just...I want to apologize to him.
I get home and I see my little (brother/sister) on the Xbox. (He/She)'s playing some kind of old pixelated game. I just sigh and walk past (him/her).
I make my way upstairs, opening the door and turning on the light. I set my backpack down, about to pull out whatever homework I got when something in the back of my mind clicked.
(S/N) can't turn on the Xbox. (He/She) doesn't know how.
I felt a chill crawl down my spine as I turned and ran to my door. But a large, green, three-fingered hand slammed it back shut. I gasped and looked towards the owner, who turned out to be none other than M.C. himself.
"W-What the hell are you doing here?!" I demanded, backing up in an attempt to escape him. He followed me as I backed up, his face emotionless. I attempted to dodge out of his way, but before I could run past him an arm slithered around my waist and pulled me back. I struggled against him, fear and panic rising in my throat.
I was suddenly pinned to the bed, forced to stare up into his eyes. He stared down at me, frowning now. Out of fear for my own life, I started to cry.
"Stop! Stop doing this to me! Stop being so damn quiet! You're never this quiet! Please just fucking talk to me!" I yelled, sobbing and choking on my own words. He slowly leaned down, a few inches from my face. Inches turned to centimeters. Centimeters turned to nothing. His lips were on mine now, soft and caring. I shut my eyes as I cried, feeling what he wanted to say on his lips. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Over and over again.
When he pulled back, he got off of me and allowed me to sit up. I wiped away my tears, trying to pretend he never saw that.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, gently tugging me onto his lap. I leaned into him, shutting my eyes in hopes to stop the tears. We both knew what we wanted to say...
I love you. I'm sorry. Please, forgive me. I forgive you.
And I did. I said those exact words. He did too. And we both meant them.