#stab him in the back >:) spdjfps

[feral-mouse]

I had the sudden urge to write about Ronny crying so 👁️👁️

Putting it under the cut because I'm not used to sharing my writing so 😅 (it is also >850 words and I want to prevent clutter lol)

By anyways, pov you have been captured by Ronny and have gained enough affection with him that you're able to prevent another torture session 🤪 spdjfspd

He was taunting you with the knife, twirling it in his hand as he slowly lurked towards you. It was the same song and dance, and he loved it – you squirming against the cuffs around your wrists, arms bound to the pole behind you, as Ronny crept forward with that snarky grin on his face.

“Ronny, please. You don’t have to do this-”

“Oh really? And why not?”

He crept closer, relishing your fear. You could see the excitement in his eyes, the malicious intent. But even despite the situation, a part of you wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be talked out of this. You’ve seen the softer sides of him by this point, there’s clearly something there worth exploring. You weren’t sure whether you were being quite honest with your words either, but if you could just get him to listen, maybe you could at least stop him. It was worth a shot anyways.

“Because deep down, you’re a good person.”

He stalls for a moment, looking at you with disbelief as the smile on his face cracks a bit.

“You… you think I’m a good person?”

He looks almost offended, then hesitant. He stalls again, his eyes turning away from you as he lets out a small laugh.

“Y-you can’t-! Haha…. fuck…!”

A strained smile creeps onto his face again as he stumbles slightly. Another laugh slips from his throat as he lets his arms fall to his side, his eyes traveling elsewhere. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, you’ve never really seen him like this before. He just continues to laugh, his face changing from disbelief to thinking, to amusement and… guilt? He runs a hand through his hair as he almost curls in on himself, the knife still hanging loosely in his hand. His face suddenly twists to anger as he spins around, chucking the knife with all of his might as it clangs across the room.

“FUCK!!!”

His hands are back to his head, clutching his face as he lets in a sharp inhale, a scowl peeking through. His arms are trembling.

He roughly swings them back down to his sides, finally turning back to face you. He falters as he takes a step forward.

“W-why-! Ugh-! Why do you always-?!”

He’s struggling to find the words, you can see that clearly in his eyes. You always knew that it was difficult for him to control his temperament. The same applies now. He catches himself, his eyes darting around uncertainly before landing back onto your bound form.

“Fuck, why do you always make me… feel this way?!”

His voice is strained, as if it was difficult for him to even say those words in the first place. He turns away from you again, almost embarrassed as he paces back and forth. You can practically see the tension in his body as his mouth continues to move, the words failing to come out at first.

“I-I don’t… Fuck- I don’t get you! What can you possibly see in me?! I’m not a good person! I never fucking was!”

He spins back around to look at you, with almost desperation behind his eyes. You can tell he’s holding himself back.

“So why the fuck do you keep-…! Gah- why do you care so much?!”

His hands are shaking, he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“Because who else will?”

He freezes as your words hit him. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes slowly turning to the ground as he takes it in. It’s hard to tell just what he’s thinking, he’s not showing it on his face at all. You finally see his mouth twitch slightly, the muscles in his face slowly turning into a frown as his shoulders tremble. He’s clearly caught off guard as the first tear falls down his cheek, shaking his head he finally brings his hands up to try to hide his face. The tears keep coming, it starts becoming difficult for him to catch it all as he incessantly wipes his eyes. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him so distraught before, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

A strained hiccup slips through as his body starts to tremble. It soon becomes more difficult for him to hold back his sobs. Silent curses spew from his lips, clearly embarrassed as he cries in front of you. You can’t tell whether he’s happy or despaired. Maybe it’s a mix of both.

Your eyes snap back up to his form as he starts to move towards you, unsure if he’s about to lash out. Instead, he stops next to you, plopping down to your side as he buries his face in his hands.

The two of you continue to sit like this for the next couple of minutes, with Ronny crying by your side as you remain tied to the pole. He fully keeps to himself, refusing to lift his head. It’s an almost awkward silence, with neither of you choosing to acknowledge the other. His strained hiccups and sniffles fill the room, unable to fully compose himself.

He’s an ugly crier.