Savior

Chapter thirty two: Healing

TW: Do not read if your sensitive to s.h. and s.s.

"I don't need help," I say slamming the cabinet shut.

"I know..." Steve walks away quietly.

I put the mug down and walk over to the fridge and pick up the oat milk and it slipped out of my hand and spilled all over the floor.

"Fuck!"

I turn around and grab the paper towels.

Pepper walks in to the kitchen and noticed the mess, "Oh sweetie let me help you-"

"No!- ah just leave it Pep," I snap placing the towels with my one good hand.

I look up and notice her walking away with a hurt look on her face and I instantly regret my attitude.

I soak up all the milk and throw the wet napkins into the garbage.
I decide I'm not hungry anymore and just go to my room.

Im so frustrated with myself. I can't cook for myself, I can't shower properly, I can't do anything for myself it's like I'm useless. And it's not even that I want to do this things, I just can't even create the illusion that I want to.

I lay on my bed for a while just staring at the ceiling.

Why hasn't Loki come to see me?

Not wanting to continue that train of thought I get up to grab a book.
The one I want is at the top of the book shelf so I move the stool in front of it so I can stand and get it.

I steady myself onto the stool with my right hand before reaching up to get the book. I still can't see it completely with my height so I shuffle my hand overtop until I feel it but in the process I feel the stool wobble underneath me.

Before I can grab into anything I fall off the stool hitting my cast against it and falling on my back.

Tony fall made a huge thud against the floor and as I try and get myself up I hear Thor running down the hall.

"Lady Y/N, are you alright?" He reaches down to help me up but I swat his hands away.

He looks confused but I can't help but be overcome by complete rage.

"What is wrong with you all!" I yell getting myself up loading my balance again almost falling but catching myself on my bedpost, "I can do this by myself! I don't need your fucking help!"

"I-"

"Just get out, get out! Get -  GET OUT!" I spit pushing him out and locking the door behind him. Tears blur my vision as I frantically open my bedside cabinet.

Where is it. Where is it?!

A small glare catches my eye. I pick up the safety razor and sit on my bed.

My arm hurts like hell from the fall but I ignore it.
With my cast on I can't reach my wrist so I settled on my fingers. Running the razor in small lines diagonally and horizontally over them slowly.

I can barely feel anything.

I switch holding the razor unsteadily in my injured hand. I use it to run jagid lines  across all five of my fingers.

I watch the blood collect itself in my index finger and singularly drop on my white bedsheets.

Your so fucking disgusting.

My own voice mocks me and yells at me as I look at my hands in disgust.

I get up wiping the razor off under my shirt and I quickly get back in bed and cover myself with a thick duvet.