Percy's arm was on fire as he angrily slashed the piece of glass across his skin, blood rising to the surface.
Large or little dots of blood formed, drying in the matter of seconds. His arms was warm, which was a nice feeling since the rest of his body was cold.
He couldn't stop, seeing blood seep up through a line was so satisfying and euphoric. It brought so much relieve and calmness in the worse way possible.
Dozens and dozens of cuts began to spread across his arm, from the top of his wrist that was covered in rubber bracelets, to the inside his elbow.
The cuts weren't deep enough to gush out a river of blood. They were just deep enough to cause enough pain to relieve Percy and deep enough to show enough blood to amaze Percy.
The glass slide across his skin easily like a card through a scanner, it was surprising and horribly thrilling.
Stop, stop, you shouldn't be doing this.
But it feels so nice.
You went months without doing it, stop it! It hurts!
But it hurts so good.
After a dozen more angry slashes to his skin, Percy placed the blood glass down, staring at his wrist. Just watching the huge drops of blood crust and dry, he could barely see his pale skin and veins.
He ran his finger across his arm, the blood mingling together, coating his arm. Playing in blood was the most gruesome thing he does, he felt like a manic doing it.
Oh but he loved pain. He loved the touch of sharp, broken glass breaking through his smooth, pale skin.
He knew he shouldn't love it, it was one of the worse things to love. But he couldn't help himself , he missed it. He missed spending his nights or mornings just cutting until his arm or legs or stomach or all felt numb all over.
Until they were so covered in cuts that he couldn't see the skin. As awful as it was, Percy just viewed it as cutting is better than killing himself.
That was his only excuse why cutting wasn't the worse thing ever.
For another few minutes, Percy rubbed the blood and cuts, until he wondered across the hall, to the bathroom.
He fortunately shared it with Kaine and not with Amberly. Sebastian shared one with Amberly, she always complains about the training seat and the rubber ducks neatly put away in a bin under the sink.
She was so much more messier than him, poor Sebastian.
Percy turned the water on, hoping it wasn't too loud since Kaine's room was right next to it. He also hoped Kaine didn't think he was just creating noise to drown out the sound of him throwing up.
After undressing, Percy stared in the mirror. His collar bones were prominent, his rib cages were visible, but it was nothing compared to months ago.
He remembered when he was just skin in bones, his ribs stuck out, his waist almost as small as his fist.
Percy was happier that he didn't look so sick, but he also still felt so sick. He didn't like eating, he missed suffering.
He missed not everyone breathing down his neck. He missed having bruises along his poking out spine. He missed showers stinging when he took them maybe once a week.
But he didn't miss who caused everything. Oh, he fucking hate, fucking despised the person who caused him to cause so much pain to himself.
Percy held up his red arm, the blood was so dark compared to the rest of him. He wished his body could be covered in blood and cuts.
