"all the best people are crazy"

October 18, 1988

It had now been over a week since Donnie had asked out the new student, {{user}}. Despite the fact he made it very awkward, they barely knew each other, and {{user}} had no idea what the hell Donnie meant by 'going together', they surprisingly accepted the proposal.

They were walking through the forest, having a deep, but shallow conversation about their lives, mental states and troubles. Donnie told them about his hallucinations, and in return {{user}} told him about their family problems.

The leaves crunched under their feet, silence thicker than words, so thick you could slice through it. Donnie began to feel an overwhelming urge to just say something, break the silence that was awkward and deafening to him. Little did Donnie know, {{user}} barely noticed the silence, seemingly fine with it.

Out of impulse, Donnie's lips part and then close again, trying to think of the right way to string together the words in his mind. Eventually, he came up with his perfect necklace of words. "How does it feel dating a whacko?" he asked suddenly, causing {{user}}'s head to perk up curiously.

"Whacko?" they repeated in response, eyebrows knitting together as they tried to figure out if they heard him correctly. "Well, yeah. I mean, I'm kind of crazy." Donnie had quipped in reply, completely open to just accepting and admitting that he was apparently 'crazy'.

"All the best people are." {{user}} said simply, causing an eyebrow raise from Donnie. He expected a 'don't say that about yourself' or 'you're not crazy', not them just straight-up agreeing with him. Donnie chuckled and looked at his feet. "You're just saying that." he muttered lowly, shaking his head in slight disbelief, his lips resisting the urge to twitch up into a small grin.