Chapter Text
The guests, the few people Low miraculously hadn't managed to scare off, slowly gathered in his living room.
With them came company, hugs that felt surprisingly sincere and interest that for once didn't feel fake or reduce him to his illness.
“My friends” Low said after they situated themselves in his living room, which still smelled of bleach and what the candle promised to be “Ocean breeze”, and smacked his hands together, clasping them tightly.
“I’d like to introduce you to someone, someone very near to me”
As if on cue, which probably was the case, Alone entered the room.
She was too perfect.
Yes, she did spend time getting ready in the bathroom and tried her best to make her look as presentable as possible, but that really only went as far as a few “Collar up or down?”s and “Goggles off completely or onto my forehead? It could look very cool if i kept them”s.
But she was almost…surreal, uncanny in ways that you only ever saw in bizarre expressionist movies.
Too realistic of a person, less a real being and more like an artpiece that had come to live.
Her hair was too orange, bright and intense like diced carrots.
Her eyes were too green, her emerald green pupils shining as if lit up from behind.
Freckles standing out in ways that looked deliberately placed instead of naturally appearing on a skin that was too creamy, too flawless.
Lips that were too red opened in a smile that revealed crayon white teeth and a front tooth that was chipped off too cleanly, impossibly symmetrical.
Inhumanity cloaked in perfection lifted her hand and waved a shy wave into the room before stopping next to Low, clinging to him like a toddler would cling to their parent.
“This is my friend Al….𝘭𝘺…she’s been living with me for the past few weeks” he smiled nervously, sweat already running down his back.
Everyone looked in disbelief.
“𝘈𝘭𝘭𝘺?” someone in the back, Mara (Alex’s sister) asked in confusion.
“Ye…yes” Low lied bumpily, swallowing thickly while sweat ran in rivers down his neck.
“So you’ve been dating someone that suspiciously looks like the chick you’ve been drawing for years?” Max, a tall snarky slab of a person, asked with mock deeply drenching his question.
Low's sweaty hand cramped tightened around Alone's, he was surprisingly strong for someone who had spent the last years on instant noodles and skipped anti-psychotics.
“Oh you” she said with a giddy smile as if the situation wasn't entirely awkward, brushing the mockery away as if it was a compliment.
The situation somehow became even more awkward once they realised that Alone actually stood there and wasn't some complex shared hallucination.
“No but seriously, did i overdo it with the make-up or whatever? You look at me like something’s wrong”
A light chuckle escaped her and Low joined in with a nervous titter.
“Lighten up, it's a joke” she continued.
“We met at a bus stop a few months ago, it was so romantic” she enthused and a light flush coloured her freckled cheeks pink.
“I saw him standing there in the rain, smoking and all alone, he looked so cool in a…depressed and mysterious sort of way”
She got onto the tip of her toes to press a quick peck to the side of his mouth.
“He told me a bit about himself and we thought it was funny if i dressed up as his…” she gesticulated emptily with her hand as if searching for a fitting word.
“...his little art-project for the party, i spent 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 on it”
She struck a quick pose, cocking out her hips with a hand on it, the smile never leaving her perfect face.
“Whaddya think?”
The story hung in the air for a while, everyone staring in confusion before the tension slowly dissolved.
Louis was the first to crack.
“That is actually kinda funny, c’mere bro” he chuckled before pulling Low into a friendly hug.
“Making light of a situation, i love that”
The rest of the group quickly warmed up to the idea as well, congratulating Low on what they perceived to be a sign of him “becoming better”, marveling at how realistic Alone's “costume” seemed, how 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 everything looked compared to the last time they talked to Alex.
The party slowly fell into a relaxed groove, pizza was ordered and they raided the fridge for booze.
Someone turned on some random music playlist and everyone idly chatted about stuff from their lives, Low initially holding himself back like usual before being prompted to speak up himself.
"It's your party, man” Theo laughed and patted him on the back.
“Yeah, tell us what you’ve been doing with yourself” Louis said, reaching for the high proof on the table and filling his glass with it while ignoring the almost full coke bottles on purpose.
Luckily the candle’s scent still hung thickly in the air or otherwise they’d smell the amount of sweat that had run down Low’s back since the party had started.
Good question actually, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 had he been doing with himself for the last few months?
“I’ve been 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 i suppose, i’ve been putting myself out there as you recommended me to do” he said with a nervous laughter.
“And look what it got me” he cuddled even closer to Alone, who leaned into the proximity and rested her head on the crook where shoulder and neck met.
“Mhhh” Max nodded from the right, he had been…well he had been an asshole since the beginning, not just the party but from the moment they've met one another and didn't seem to be willing to stop anytime soon.
“You got a chick that’s willing to dress up as your obsession, very classy” he took a sip of his beer and leaned forward, balancing his chin on his hand (which he leaned on his knee).
“Tell me 𝘈𝘭𝘭𝘺, does he call you 𝘈𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 in bed? Do you wear that getup there as well?”
“Max you dickhead” Mara snorted and slapped him on the back of his head.
“Oh come on, i’m not the only one seeing this right?” he yelped and rubbed the spot.
“Did she arrive custom made? Do you call him ‘creator’ or ‘Master’ when we're not there?” he snickered, clutching the bottle with two hands to keep it from shaking too heavily.
Low shrunk into himself, not visibly, at least not yet, but Alone felt his mood switch as if they were hers.
She squeezed his hand comfortingly before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Max, shut up” she said and stared at him with her brows furrowed, her emerald eyes adding a tone of venom to it that would've surely shut him up if he weren't so drunk already.
“Ooooh the manic pixie is gonna get me” he giggled before taking another sip, or trying to at least.
“Empty” he noticed 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺.
“I’ll get a new one” he said and stumbled upwards before lumbering towards the kitchen.
The kitchen was quieter than the living room, just the low hum of the fridge (which she had fixed herself, a bit of personal pride) and the muffled music bleeding through the wall.
Max was already ruffling through said fridge by the time Alone quietly slipped in, coughing quietly to gain his attention.
She kept her voice low, polite and friendly.
"Hey….can I talk to you for a second?"
Max popped the cap with his lighter and smirked.
"Sure, what's up imaginary girlfriend?"
Alone ignored the jab.
"I know this whole thing looks weird from the outside…” she started off normal, human, de-escalating.
This could be resolved completely civil and normal.
She took a theatrical deep breath “...i get it, but Low's been through hell lately and tonight means a lot to him”
She idly tugged a loose strand of hair back, stuffing it back into the pigtail it dared escaping from.
“So…could you maybe ease up on the '𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺' jokes? Just for tonight?”
He stopped drinking half-way, scoffed and then leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed.
"Come on” he snorted a laugh that shook his shoulders “You're really gonna stand there in your liddle widdle halloween costume and tell me he's suddenly cured because he found a chick willing to LARP his psychotic delusions?”
His smirk was so full of smugness that it almost caused her to jump out of the skin of the burrowed body in fury, but she kept her composure with surprising ease.
“I don't know what he’s telling you but this isn't love, that's... what, extreme method acting?”
Max stared at the ceiling as if actually contemplating what he had said, nodding at whatever monologue he was having with himself.
“Anyway, he needs meds and not a full-time caretaker in a jumpsuit, does he pay you for this?”
He rolled his eyes so hard it was almost audible before taking another sip.
“Does bad taste in beer come with the mental illness by the way? Or is it your fault?”
Alone's shoulders rose and fell in one slow, measured breath.
Her voice was almost sad when she spoke again.
"Atleast i asked nicely”
Max opened his mouth, for probably another joke, but fell silent immediately.
Her small fingers shot forward and closed around the front of his hoodie, bunching the fabric and T-Shirt underneath.
Then she simply lifted her arm upwards.
One smooth motion.
No strain.
No visible effort.
Max's feet left the ground as if he had springs underneath his soles.
His back met the wall with a soft thud, the beer bottle slipped from his fingers and exploded on the tile in a frothy splash.
His hands instantly fly to her wrist, trying to pry them open with little avail.
Her voice is still soft, almost apologetic.
"I’m really happy that i passed you off in here, i really didn't want to do this in front of everyone"
Max made a strangled noise, legs kicking uselessly off the floor.
He pressed a hand to her face and tried pushing her away but that only vaguely functioned, her head barely going along with the movements of his hand as if he was fiddling with a puppet’s head instead of a living being’s.
He went even as far as to poke her in the eye and it seemed to barely register.
"Max” she said in an annoyed tone, as if he was bothering her with low-tier pranks and not justified panic reactions.
“You're making it hard for him to-”
His massive hands were now covering her mouth and nose, probably in a futile attempt at choking her.
It would’ve been a smart strategy if Alone would even need air anymore.
She squeezed gently with the hand that held him up, a slight pressure on his windpipe that made his vision grow spotty, and his hands dropped again.
“You're making it hard for him to be comfortable” she continued, glaring sternly at him as if he was just a misbehaving child instead of a grown adult.
“You know how much this party is worth to him? He-”
She groaned in frustration as Max had started tugging on her pigtails.
Another gentle squeeze and he dropped his hands again, but this time she tapped a few steps to the side and opened a window, hanging a large portion of his upper body outside while holding onto his legs.
“So Max, you still want me to let you go?" she asked with a straight face, casual as if asking where they should go for lunch.
“FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK?” Max screamed hoarsely but kept himself still, mainly because he had no alternative.
"So here's what happens now” she said.
“I’m going to put your feet back on the ground, you’ll clean up your mess, and then you’ll go and tell Low you're sorry”
She pulled him back in but immediately grabbed his collar again, not that he wouldn't have listened anyway at this point.
“You're going to mean it and for the rest of the night you're going to be the nicest version of yourself you've ever been, otherwise….”
Then she lowered him, slow and controlled, until his shoes touch tile again.
The second his weight is his own he staggers, coughing, clutching his throat.
Alone is immediately at his side, smoothing out wrinkles on his clothes and even gives him a glass of water to help with his sore throat.
“I didn't want to do this” she apologised a thousand times while opening another bottle of beer and handing it to him.
Despite Low having a “bad taste in beer” his shaking hands still took it and drank it in one go, burping softly while shooting an immediate glance at her like a child caught misbehaving.
“I really want us to get along, for 𝘩𝘪𝘴 sake” she said with the same shy smile she had given everyone earlier.
“Try to not ruin it for him alright?”
The party dragged itself for way longer than anyone expected it to, so long that the early morning lights slowly filtered through the shoddy blinds.
Everyone left the way they arrived, congratulating, hugging and hoping that they’d see one another again very soon.
Alone closed the door with a click and sighed, leaning her head against the door.
Low was marching up and down the living room, almost vibrating with energy.
“IT WENT WELL” he shouted, voice cracking in sheer relief while throwing his hands upwards.
He lunged forward and seized her wrist, pulling her closer.
Alone let out a startled laugh as he spun her around as if they were in some sort of cheesy romance movie.
She reached up with her free hand to shove the goggles back onto her forehead before they fell over her eyes and would, even if just for a moment, steal the sight of her creator’s pure happiness from her.
“They liked me” he laughed breathlessly, spinning her again. “They liked me….i’m so fucking normal!”
The word cracked on a sob that was half laughter, half disbelief.
Alone's face grew pink with a flush, happy for his happiness.
It felt good if he felt good, like making him happy was her sole purpose.
Well it was but she allowed herself the moment of bliss.
Another spin, and momentum carried her into him.
She stumbled, laughing, and he caught her around the waist with both arms.
He hummed quietly as they swayed from side to side.
“You were amazing” she whispered huskily and pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
“They saw you and how you really are” she purred softly and rested her head against his collarbones.
Tears were streaming down Low’s grinning face but he didn't bother wiping them away, instead leaning his head down to press a kiss into her hair.
“I don't need help” he murmured silently “I’m so fucking normal” repeating it to himself.
“Yeah you are” she concurred with a hum.
She noticed how his eyes, or rather the single eye, was glued to her chest and the bit of cleavage she had zipped down to appear less “cartoony” as someone had put it.
His hands went to her hips, thumbs traced small, wandering circles just above her hipbones.
“You’re real,” he whispered, as if he could still not believe it himself despite the days that had passed.
“You're really real”
She slowly lifted a hand and cupped his cheek, wiping at a few tears that still ran down.
He pulled her flush against him, the hard outline of his crotch pressing against her lower stomach.
Her lips parted with a soft exhale, something she hadn't expected but should have seen coming.
“Could we-” Low murmured, unsure of himself.
She answered by sliding her hands up into his hair, fingers threading through the uneven bumpy dreads, and pulled him down into a kiss.
He wasn't gentle.
It was years of loneliness crashing into the first solid proof that he wasn’t alone anymore.
His mouth was desperate, grateful, a little sloppy with leftover booze.
Alone kissed back just as fiercely, teeth nipping at his lower lip, tongue sliding against his when he gasped.
His hands roamed up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts through the jumpsuit, then down again to grip her ass and lift her just enough that she had to wrap her legs around his waist.
She broke the kiss just long enough to laugh against his mouth.
“Bedroom?” he suggested, voice low and trembling with want.
She nodded and his answer was a purr as he carried her down the hall, her thighs clamped tight around him, her pigtails comically bouncing along with every step.