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Jose couldn't say a word.
Standing in front of him was someone he had both loved and betrayed
— Donal?... — slowly, as if through torture, he pronounced his name. He couldn't believe his eyes.
Donald stood half-turned, looking at Jose with all the anger and hatred his soul could muster. The red dress spread over his body like wine, like... blood. He slowly raised a hand with bloody knuckles and ran it through his thick, blond hair. His real hair.
— Donal... Meu Deus, isso é tão inesperado.. I... I... Posso explicar tudo! — Jose stuttered and began to chatter rapidly, but was interrupted.
— That's enough, Jose. — Donald interrupted him in his usual voice. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned completely to Jose and continued — I've already figured it out.
Jose felt as if his heart had stopped.
— Não.. não.. Não, Não, Não, Não! — he quickly started repeating it, as if it would help him wake up from the nightmare he had driven himself into. — Você entendeu tudo errado, eu juro-!
— Stop, Jose. — The hardness in Donald's voice was incredibly frightening, Jose felt his body and voice tremble — I understood everything.
Donald began to walk away with a moderate step. He really wanted to run away, but his legs were too heavy. Or he was afraid of losing the pieces of a newly broken heart.
— I knew you as a handsome guy, both on the outside and inside. A very kind and incredibly confident man. — Donald stopped again and looked at Jose — I knew you as a caballero. — The whole time when Jose appeared to him in a different form flashed before his eyes. Absolutely different.
He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them to see a scared Jose standing in front of him. He even wanted to laugh. When has Jose ever been afraid?
— I loved you, Jose. — Donald admitted abruptly — I loved you and followed you. I got over my self-loathing and my fear. I put on this dress and followed you. At first, I despised myself for lying to you, that I needed to open up before it was too late. But it was too late. — the tone of the voice gained momentum, angry at himself and the man he loved, but in the end it became quiet and full of disappointment again. — If I had confessed to you, I would have found out what you really think of me. — Donald turned around and, as if embracing the force, walked away confidently, clicking his heels. — Now you can say whatever you want!
Tears were still streaming down his cheeks. He hated Jose for his lies and hypocrisy, hated himself that even so, he still loves this scoundrel.
But he won't let anyone wipe their feet on him anymore. No one will neglect him anymore. He's Donald Duck and he's had enough.
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Jose felt a wave rolling over him. No, the storm. No, a storm of emotions.
Yes, he admitted that sometimes gossiping behind the backs of his amigos, but that doesn't mean anything, right?
To lie a little there, add a couple of facts here and that's it.
Lying for good, right?
But why didn't he stop? No, why did he even start? Were all those ladies for whom he lied so artfully worth this amigos? His Donal?
No.
Now Jose is on his knees, realizing that he is alone. He was abandoned, immediately by two wonderful people.
Beautiful Anna, a femme fatale blonde and an amazing dancer.
And the same wonderful Donald. His best friend and caballero.
They turned out to be the same person and left.
How he wanted to go back in time and hit himself with all his might.
No woman was worthy of Donald Duck, but Jose realized it too late.
What should he do now?
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Based on a new post @diogxnxs !