COMPLETED // i don't want to hurt anymore - enoch o'connor x reader

(Y/N)'s P.O.V

4 hours later, I was still lying in the same position on my bed. There were no more tears: I knew they would come later. I just felt numb. My problems and worries about going into the normal world or staying in the loop had all but disappeared, and now all I could think about was Enoch.
I felt so unbelievably broken.
I couldn't stop playing and replaying little snapshots of our entire relationship in my head. The visions, images, call them what you want, began with our first kiss under the willow tree. It then moved onto our first full-on make-out session, in Enoch's basement. I almost laughed at that one; Olive had walked in on us and Enoch had almost fallen off his workbench. I almost laughed. Almost, but not quite.
It then went onto our countless walks in Cairnholm, and the infinite times he'd whisper cute things in my ear when everyone was watching. If I didn't know better, I may have thought he was only doing these things for the showy aspect. But I did know better. He did love me, and I ruined it.

The tears came.

About an hour later, we were all called down to lunch. I didn't move.

Emma came to see how I was, to try and make me go to lunch. I only agreed when I started feeling so empty that my messed up brain decided I needed food. We walked slowly down to the kitchen.

Enoch was already there. He didn't look up when we walked in, but I could see his red and slightly puffy eyes. He had been crying too. I remember what he said his father used to tell him. "O'Connor men don't cry, boy."
How sadly ironic that felt now.

Emma chose the seat next to Enoch. My usual seat. On any other day, I would've bitch-stared her into oblivion, but I knew she was doing it for the both of us. To make things easier.
I felt so wrong taking my place next to Hugh.

And so the days went on. It felt like a shitty kind of déjà​ vu. It was like the period of time before we were together, when we didn't talk. Except it was worse now, so much worse. I stayed in my room all day, only talking when it was absolutely necessary, and only going down to the bottom of the house for meals. I cried all night. It was so bad that Miss Peregrine told Emma to temporarily share with Claire and Olive.

Enoch was the same. He cried too. I heard him during my midnight wanderings, punching his fist against the walls and sobbing. He didn't leave his basement.

Jacob tried to help. He talked about what it was like in 2017, but, to be honest, it just made things worse. Even he stopped trying eventually.

I hated myself.

Enoch's P.O.V

4 hours after I'd left her, I was lying on my bed. There were no tears: I knew they would come later. I just felt numb. My problems and worries about (Y/N) going into the normal world or staying in the loop had all but disappeared, and now all I could think about was how it ended, and when it ended.
I felt so unbelievably broken.
I couldn't stop playing and replaying little snapshots of our entire relationship in my head. The visions, images, call them what you want, began with our first kiss under the willow tree. It then moved onto our first full-on make-out session, in my basement. I almost laughed at that one; Olive had walked in on us and I'd nearly fallen off my workbench. I almost laughed. Almost, but not quite.
It then went onto our countless walks in Cairnholm, and the infinite times I'd whisper cute things into her ear when everyone was watching. If she didn't know better, she may have thought I was only doing these things for the showy aspect. But she did know better. I did love her, and I ruined it.

The tears came.

About an hour later, we were all called down to lunch. I didn't move.

Horace came to see how I was, to try and make me go to lunch. I only agreed when I started feeling so empty that my messed up brain decided I needed food. We walked slowly down to the kitchen.

I arrived before (Y/N). I didn't look up when her and Emma walked in, but I could see her red and slightly puffy eyes as soon as she sat down. She had been crying too. I remember what I said my father used to tell me. "O'Connor men don't cry, boy."
How sadly ironic that felt now.

Emma chose the seat next to me. (Y/N)'s usual seat. On any other day, she would've bitch-stared her into oblivion, but (Y/N) and I knew she was doing it for the both of us. To make things easier.
I felt so wrong watching her take her place next to Hugh.

And so the days went on. It felt like a shitty kind of déjà​ vu. It was like the period of time before we were together, when we didn't talk. Except it was worse now, so much worse. I stayed in my basement all day, only talking when it was absolutely necessary, and only leaving for meals.

(Y/N) cried all night. I heard her during my midnight wanderings. It was so bad that Miss Peregrine told Emma to temporarily share with Claire and Olive.

I was the same. I cried too. I gave myself bruises by punching my fist against the walls and sobbing. I didn't leave my basement.

Jacob tried to help (Y/N). He talked about what it was like in 2017, but, to be honest, it just made things worse. Even he stopped trying eventually.

I hated myself.