For the event! Could I send the Lab Experiment a box of treats? Like, one of those with cookies and candies and all sorts of stuff. I wanna let them know that all the coddling and gentle treatment towards them is something I do because I enjoy it. <3
when i saw this request i was like ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧ i'm gonna write something super sweet for them. ehem. this did not happen, but i did try to keep the spirit of the request in mind so i hope you enjoy anyway <3 cw for semi-graphically described crying and a... not quite panic attack
your face twists when they start crying.
the box of treats in your hands remains outstretched, their shaking too wild for them to be able to accept the gift without dropping and spilling its contents all over the floor.
they’re know they’re an ugly crier. snot drips down their nose, their eyes are wet and sting, their face is sticky and hot, and their chest hurts and wracks with each sob. the uncertain grimace on your face makes them wail even louder.
a couple maids passing by look at the two of you in alarm and scurry away quickly.
uncomfortably aware of this, they crouch down and try to cover their face. "I’m never going to—" a sharp inhale while they nearly choke on saliva, "I’m sorry."
they feel you crouch down beside them, not too close in an attempt to avoid agitating them even further, but close enough they can sense your presence even without being able to see you.
"hey, it’s okay." your soft tone doesn’t match your earlier facial expression, but they refuse to look up to check. another sob wrecks through their body. "what’s wrong? do you not like sweets? there’s some cookies in here too, if you prefer those."
they shake their head furiously, still refusing to even glance at you. when they speak, their voice comes out so small and shaky even they can’t tell what they meant to say.
some shuffling follows. tentatively, you reach out your hand. their whole body flinches when you make contact with your pinky, but they don’t resist when you cup your hand over theirs and inch a bit closer.
a small pause passes before you hesitantly open your mouth again, your fingers tightening their grip on their own hand but not moving otherwise. "don’t apologise, okay?"
the shaking gets worse.
terrible. they feel terrible.
you’ve given them a gift—something they could never deserve, especially not one so heartfelt from you—and this is how they thank you. they’re already disgusting and sickening enough, for you to be forced to see them like this because you tried to be kind… you deserve better. you must think they’re so repulsive. you must think this is a waste of time.
this must be making you hate them even more than you already do.
maybe this is where you decide you’ve had enough. maybe you’ll finally stop pretending to care about them now. of course you would. it must be nauseating looking at them like this.
when you speak up, your voice still sounds much too soft. they don’t know how much time has passed, for how long you’ve been just watching them be this revolting. "you don’t have to accept the treats if you don’t like them. I want to give you something you like."
you’re so kind. that’s all they can think about. they don’t deserve it at all.
there’s another small pause, like you’re mulling something over.
the tin rings when it’s set on the floor gently. it’s only then they notice your hand has disappeared from on top of theirs. a flash of panic hits their chest, as if they haven’t been ready for you to turn around and leave at any moment the entire time now.
"can you look up at me?"
you still sound way, way too kind. it’s not like they could ever say no to you. it takes them a moment, and they end up scrunching their eyes closed, but they manage to lift their head up.
"thank you."
a whine leaves their throat, but they refuse to open their eyes. even when you’re thanking them even when they’re misbehaving like this, they can’t stomach the disappointed look that has to be plastered all over your face.
immediately, a soft, warm cloth makes contact with their face.
it takes another couple of seconds for them to realise you’re wiping away their tears and snot. they make some sort of pitiful noise. you continue, undeterred, until their whole face is more or less dry. everything feels hot, especially when your other hand comes up to cup their face.
"there. isn’t that better?"
your voice is much too close. they can feel your breath hitting their face. the quivering gets worse. they didn’t realise you’d come that close to them.
but it does feel better, and they realise then they’ve mostly stopped crying.
your thumb gently brushes over their cheek and they whine pathetically again.
"I’m sorry."
the cover of the treat box they’d forgotten is removed rather noisily, then set aside on the stone floor. something soft makes a sound as it’s dropped into the tin. the hand cupping their cheek doesn’t leave, and they can’t help leaning into it a bit more.
in response, you give an approving hum and press further into them.
"shh, it’s okay. do you want some chocolate?"
they sniffle.
"there’s some hard candy, too. or some cookies, if you’d prefer those. or if you really don’t like any of these, I can get you something el—"
"I don’t deserve any of this." they cut in before they can think twice about it.
regret immediately seeps into their bones. now they’ve done it. you somehow weren’t angry before, but you must be now. you’re really going to abandon them this time. you—
but you don’t seem fazed.
"okay." they flinch. "but I want to feed you, so you’re going to have to choose something."
that makes open their eyes abruptly. it’s bright in the hallway and the light makes the biting at their ears and forehead worse, and it takes them a few seconds for their eyes to be able to find and focus on you.
you’re smiling.
patiently and sweetly, you’re smiling at them.
before they can ask, the hand cupping their cheek moves up and stats petting their hair. "it’s 'cause you’re my favourite. that means I like you, and I like taking care of you, and I think you’re worth all the effort in the world. and I don’t like it when you talk like that about someone I care so much about."
despite everything, they can’t find it in themselves to disagree.
"so," you smile wider, pushing their head a bit closer and holding a chocolate treat up to their lips with your free hand, "which do you want? this is your last chance to back out if you really don’t like chocolate."
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