Misty is not normal. She knows that, always has. How could she forget when everyone keeps reminding her of it? The side glances, the barely concealed laughter, the condescending smiles. She has dealt with those for her whole life. And she has adapted, at least that’s what she tells herself and everyone else.
By now, she just shrugs it off when they insult her. The blonde has become what they have always seen in her, has long since started embracing the darkness in her. She has buried her loneliness long ago, has buried that sadness that is so familiar to her. She masks it with this bubbly personality she has created, hides behind that insanity that has started to feel like home.
Misty has always had an emotional deficit, has always been content with being so casually violent, going to extreme lengths to get what she wants. But she also needs to be needed, wanted. It’s not a good combination when all you have ever done is observe, because they would never let you get close enough to actually participate in their life. When you scare everyone away who you have brought close to yourself. It’s like she has to put in so much effort for something that seems so easy for everyone else. And they never come out of their own free will. There’s something about her that is so fundamentally disturbing to everyone, they don’t see her as human. And that’s all Misty has ever wanted. Is she not human? Can she not experience humanity like they can? Love like they can?
The blonde doesn’t know why she still clings to that desire. She is manipulative, hurtful, violent, she does everything to keep them close. But does she not have the right? She deserves this, after all she has been through. Should they not be grateful? They are miserable, she can see it, even If they can’t. They need her, need her to take care of them.
It’s not even about love, Misty thinks. She does not actually care about them, she realizes. It’s merely about knowing that someone is dependent on her. So why does she sit in Natalie’s hotel room, crying?
Misty actually feels… sad. It’s a different kind of sadness than the one that has always clung to her like a shadow, a pathetic shadow. She feels so empty without her. This is it, she guesses, the reason why she holds on to hope. Because Natalie makes her feel something. It might not always be a good feeling, but she hardly cares. She knows their dynamic isn’t healthy, but it’s enough. It’s enough for her, and she had foolishly believed that it was enough for Natalie as well.
The blonde is so angry at herself because she should have anticipated this. They always leave. She should have seen it coming. But she hadn’t. She has gotten lost in this weird, fucked up thing they had going on. She had basked in Natalie’s attention, even if if was just the other woman asking for help with finding out more about Travis’ death or dismembering that corpse.
Because not only had she felt needed, Natalie had also been the reason for that warm feeling in her chest that she hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much, she muses.
She curses her own naivety. Of course, this hadn’t meant anything to Natalie. Natalie, who, while Misty has been longing for just the tiniest glimpse of affection, stupid as she is, has only ever wanted to know about Travis. It would be easier if Misty wanted to understand, but she genuinely doesn’t.
She looks around the empty hotel room and almost starts laughing, although she does not feel any joy. It feels like a slap in the face, worse, like the other woman has ripped her heart out. She is disgusted by herself, by her being so affected.
But deep down, she knows that that desire to be needed is a double-edged sword, because it also makes her dependent on someone else. And with that someone being Natalie Scatorccio, well, Misty never stood a chance. Not even after trying so hard to guide her into the right direction. The brunette knows her tactics too well.
Sometimes she starts considering other people’s words, starts considering that she’s evil for playing so pathetic, just for a glimpse of mercy. But it doesn’t matter now, because Natalie has seen right through her, and she has left Misty behind, begging for pity from someone who has only ever seen her as a tool. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much…