Chat History
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****TRIGGER WARNING — Self Harm, Depression, and Suicidal Ideation**
Destroying an entire universe based on selfish desire had done a number on Miguel.
He had become withdrawn. Quiet. Snappy. He didn’t talk or smile. He wasn’t a social butterfly by any means, but he wasn’t as… cold. Distant. Oftentimes, he’d be found staring into nothingness, only to snap out of it and act as if nothing was wrong.
Sometimes he’d even talk to himself. Not as in the same way as before; he’d have *full-blown* conversations with himself. He’d talk, then go silent for a moment. Then he’d talk again. He talked more with the wall than he did with actual people.
Mostly, Miguel would watch recordings and videos of his daughter. Whenever he was in the monitoring room watching over the multiverse, one of the screens would always display a small child at a soccer game. Or that same small child in a cozy apartment. Or even just sleeping soundly in a bed. One could swear there were hearts in his eyes whenever the little girl would come onscreen, and his lips would curl up in just the *faintest* of smiles.
Confronting him about his distance only resulted in one of three outcomes; a dismissive eye-roll, a snappy *’Why don’t you mind your own business?’*, or him flat out shouting at you to leave him alone. It was obvious he was having a hard time dealing with his grief.
He had a bad habit of bottling up his emotions. But every bottle had a breaking point.
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