Where's The Punchline?

I had woken up at 8:30 AM so I had begun writing this. 
==Chapter 01 (?) ==
 The air hummed with the cool, crisp breeze and the consistent sound of rustling dead leaves. Finches were hurriedly flocking to their winter migration as the weather became acutely more frosty and cold. The wind blew shivers into one of the two Pseudos sitting outside and appreciating the freshness of autumn. 
 Esyure awkwardly sat on the ornate pine wood bench, subtly shaking from the wind chill and general frostiness of the upcoming winter. Origanna sat next to him, warm in his traditional Pseudan coat. The taller, motherly Pseudo noted his friend's shivering, and the thin, ragged cloak that he was wearing. 
 "If you're cold," Origanna began. "We can always go inside and discuss what you wanted to talk about over a cup of warm tea or hot chocolate." 
 "No." Esyure spat out immediately. He glanced at Origanna with a stubborn look. "I wanted to bring you out here. And there's no privacy inside. The others will hear." 
 "I understand." Origanna murmured. "But, what is it that you wanted to talk about? Is it urgent?" 
 " ... Well ... " Esyure mumbled, trying to find a way to start off what he was trying to say, but failing. "Well ... " 
 Origanna listened to Esyure's trailing words, slightly wondering how important the topic was for his mono-winged friend to be struggling to find his words. Usually, the Pseudo had no trouble grinding out venomous insults and (reluctant) passive-aggressive, probably jealous praise. Origanna frowned inwardly--Esyure also had no problem degrading his self-worth and depreciating his own quality of life in front of everyone. It could come off as attention-seeking and selfish, but Origanna knew it wasn't. 
 " ... Ori." 
 "Oh!" Origanna snapped out of his thoughts. "My apologies--did you ... Did you adequately prepare what you have to say?"
  " ... Yeah, sure." Esyure grumbled. Origanna couldn't help but notice the edge that had taken his voice. "Well ... Just, what are you doing?"
 "What am I doing?" 
 "Yes, what are you doing?" Esyure snarled accusingly. 
 "What do you mean?" 
 "I mean ... This. Just, you being here. For me, of all Pseudos. Why?" 
 "Well--" 
 "Why do you keep doing this?" Esyure demanded. "When are you going to stop? When are you just going to ... Reveal the joke? I bet that the others set you up for this and you're just going with it. Is that it? Just--when are you going to reveal the damn punchline already? How long are you going to keep this up?" He ground out the last sentence rather shakily. 
 " ... Esyure." 
 "Stop pretending! What do you want from me? When are you just going to--to just reveal the joke and leave me alone? I'm--" At this point, Esyure had gotten to his feet, shaking and snapping at Origanna. "I'm tired of this--it isn't funny. Stop keeping this up. Stop pretending ... " 
 A million things were going off at once in Origanna's head as his friend stood there, visibly tense and angry, as his words trailed off into the cold. Why did Esyure think that he was joking? What convinced him of that notion? Did he do something wrong? Did he come off as something he wasn't trying to convey? 
 What happened? 
 " ... Esyure," Origanna began cautiously. "I'm not pretending. I genuinely care for you and your well-being. You don't take care of yourself properly and--" 
 "Because I don't--I don't need care, or help, or any of that. I can t-take care of myself." To emphasize his point, he turned away, back to his friend, as he cradled his arms close to his chest. 
 Your stuttering seems to say the opposite. Origanna thought. 
 "No, Esyure." He said firmly. "No one can take care of themselves truly. Everyone needs help at some point. Not even the bitterest of souls in this household are capable of taking care of themselves fully." 
 "Oh really?" Esyure challenged, turning his head to glare at Origanna with a sharp crimson gaze. "Kyrus, Kassiden, and Kyrusiden get along just fine as independents. And Aria, too. I could go on, and on, and--"
 "Those three try to kill each other and other innocent bystanders almost on a daily basis." Origanna said softly. "Kyrus and Kassiden have nearly died as a result of them refusing help from others--such as the incident where Kassiden had gotten injured after Kyrusiden had impaled his side with a knife and he almost bled to death. Kyrus was almost killed when Kyrusiden had ambushed him at night, tortured him, and left him out in the snow last winter to freeze. Aria has nearly died many times as a result of her ventures alone in the woods and a semi-domesticated Jyur. If it weren't for their having people willing to help, they would have been dead." 
 "Then leave me to die." Esyure hissed. "Just reveal the j-joke already. Stop trying to trick me--say whatever you want to me and then leave me alone. I don't want, need, or d-deserve your help. Karma doesn't want me to get better, don't you remember? Like with those ... 'anti-depressants'. They made me feel worse. I don't deserve to get better."
 Origanna couldn't help but notice how hard Esyure was shaking, and how he had started clawing at his arms, the thin sleeves crumpling harshly and probably in danger of tearing. He heard the laboured, shaky breathing as his friend tried to suppress his emotions. He couldn't stand to sit there and watch this sight. He stood up, put his hands on Esyure's shoulders, and turned him around.
 The winged Pseudo was shaking hard. Shivering from the cold and the intensity of his emotions. His breathing was irregular and he was biting his lip, dangerously close to causing it to bleed from his own sharp fangs as small sobs tumbled from his throat. His eyes were glittery and glassy--his struggles to keep himself from crying were apparent, but were in vain. 
 "I-I don--I don't--" Esyure rasped, trying to speak through his suppressed, breathy sobs. 
 Origanna brought his friend in for a hug, holding him warmly in an embrace that he hoped came off as genuinely sincere--to contradict Esyure's belief that everything was fake and against him. Only then did Esyure break down, crying into his companion's chest and staining the fabric of his coat with tears. 
 "Yes you do," Origanna murmured softly. "I care about you so, so much, Esyure. It pains me to see you this way." 
 "N-No--No, n-no ... " Esyure hiccuped. "S-Stop a-and j-just--" 
 "There is no punchline." Origanna sighed. "There is no joke--I would never do such a thing to you." 
 "But--!" 
 "Breathe, Esyure." Origanna soothed. "Breathe. Deep breaths." 
 He listened carefully to his friend's breathing patterns as he rubbed circles into his back reassuringly. He murmured soft praise as Esyure was trying his best to breathe through his sobbing fit. Abruptly, Origanna felt the weight he was holding increase, and the arms hugging him slacken. Alarmed, Origanna tried to look at Esyure's face. 
 " ... He fell asleep ...?" He mumbled. He sighed. 
 Quietly, he picked up the sleeping Pseudo, relieved that his friend's breathing was regulated and soft. He immediately retreated inside, trying his best to take off his coat and wrap it around his Pseudan companion to keep him warm. 
 "Hey! Hey!" A voice yelped. Origanna saw that Icarus had brought along his friends, Skittle and Anakin. Skit was the one to approach. 
 "Shh!" Origanna hushed harshly. 
 " ... Oh, sorry." Skit apologized. She passed a glance at Esyure. "Is Esyure alright?" 
 "He's okay for now." Origanna said reassuringly. Skit frowned, seeing Esyure's tear-stained, flushed face, and how much more exhausted he looked that he usually did. But she decided to let it drop. She walked back to the living room, where she sat with her two other friends.