Skeppy's hands cupped his eyes, his fingertips feeling just how warm his eyelids, and basically his entire face, were. His heart drummed away against his rib cage. What was happening to him? This was the second time he was so close to admitting to Bad about his situation, yet every single time the words were close to pouring out, he hesitated. His anxious thoughts stormed his mind like a violent hurricane; debris thrashing his consciousness with sharp fear and future regret. 

He brought down his hands and looked around his room. His vision was blurred, tears pooled at his eyes. Not strong enough to trickle down his cheeks, but just strong enough to cause a sting in his eyes. He wiped his tears away with his right hand and sighed.

How the fuck did I get in this situation?

Skeppy stood up and noticed Rocco at the edge of his bed. That got out a small, yet genuine smile out of him. He'd always been secretly fascinated by the idea of a pet. One takes the role of caring for another sentient being out of love.

Love.

His heart suddenly fluttered at the word and his cheeks warmed. He shook his head and exhaled. He then made way into his kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out a water bottle. As he opened and drank it, his mind wandered the large stretches of his consciousness in search for an answer as to why his heart suddenly came to life with only the word love.

Could it be...

No.

Of course it's not.

...

Right?

While he was inside his head, he had managed to return to his room subconsciously. As he startled himself out of the trance he was in, he found himself thinking about him. Are you sure you don't feel this way?  The angels at his shoulders asked, unforgiving with their sour honesty. 

Or are you just scared that your sky would shatter down to Earth if he didn't love you back?

The air from Skeppy's lungs escaped through his parted lips; goosebumps tracing the kilometers of skin he had, his spine gently tingling as the sensation raced throughout his body. His heart ignited to life. He'd never thought of his feelings towards Bad in this way. Although he felt like his feelings always teetered between romantic and platonic, he'd make sure the balance was always in favor of the platonic side. After all, he didn't want to push Bad into admitting what his sexuality might be since Skeppy himself didn't even know how to label his own.

Skeppy slowly tip-toed to his bed and plopped down, kicking his sandals off. He reached for his phone and bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating once again. 

I'll write him a message, instead.