STURNIOLO TRIPLETS-one shots

Self Harm- Matt

Hi!!
How r u guys??
I'm trying to learn how to play the guitar and omg guitarists r wild that shit hurts

Anywaysss thx for the request c94515290 !!

⚠️ this deals with some rly deep things like sh and pls pls pls don't read this if it'll be triggering for u. If u relate to anyone in this story I'm so so sorry and u can always talk to me <33⚠️

TW: sh, swearing, pet names, dark subjects, blood

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Nick's POV:

    " Aren't you hot?" I speculate, eyeing Matt's long sleeved shirt and loose pants. Sweat dripped down my brow, even though I'm only in a swimsuit and a shirt. " It's like thirty fucking degrees and you're in pretty much a snowsuit."
    Matt shook his head, averting his gaze from mine. He looked sweaty though, cheeks red and hair hanging limply.
    " Guys!" Chris yells, running down the stairs. " I'm going in the pool. Right now."
    " Aren't you gonna change?" I reply as he rips open the sliding door. He's fully dressed still.
    " Too hot." He calls back, before he jumps in the pool, clothes and all. It does actually look pretty nice.
    " Coming!" I say, stepping out onto the scalding concrete, into the mid morning sun. My feet feel like a layer of skin is burning off. I glance back at Matt, who's still standing in the doorway before I cannonball into the pool.
    The water's cool, but not as cold as I would've liked. Water surges up my nose so hard I swear it reaches my brain. I break the surface to a giggling Chris and begin to splash him. He retaliates hard, sending waves of water at my face.
    " Bitch!" He calls as some water gets into his eyes.
    " Ha, I win!"
    " Matt, aren't you coming in?" Chris asks, turning in the water to look at Matt, who's standing in the doorway. God, I can't believe he has a long sleeve shirt on right now.
    " Nah, I'm good." He smiles weakly and steps back into the kitchen. Laura's moving around in the kitchen behind him, probably making breakfast.
    " Baby!" I say to his turned back.
   
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Chris's POV:

    The kitchen is dark and a little chilly, the first promise of fall frosting the air. I shiver slightly and put my phone down, opening the cupboard to find something to eat.
    A shuffle from behind me pulls my attention from the goldfish bag that won't seem to open. A pale figure shuffles into the kitchen, hair rumpled from sleep and eerily shadowed eyes.
    " Matt?" I say in surprise, glancing at the stove's time. " What are you doing up at four AM? I'm usually the nocturnal one."
    " Chris. Oh, sorry, I didn't see you." He pulls down his sleeves quickly, probably realizing how cold it is down here. We should probably turn the heating on soon. " I'm just grabbing a bandaid." He shuffles to the drawer and pulls out the first aid kit.
    " At the crack of dawn? Got hurt in a dream?" I joke, expecting him to laugh. He doesn't. Worry curls in my chest, a physical being sitting heavily over my lungs." Matt?"
    He looks up like he'd forgotten I was there and puts the bandaids back. " Just tripped." He mumbles, turning to go back upstairs.
    Before he turns the corner I see the bandaid clenched in his fist. It's one of those wide ones that you use for big scrapes.
    He tripped?
    And needed one of those bad boys?
    " Matt?" I say for the third time this evening. Or morning, technically. " You good?"
    He turns his head slightly, pausing. The silence pulsates between us as our eyes meet. A shadow, not unlike a bruise, seems to lay behind his irises.
    The worry presses harder on my ribs, making it hard to breathe. My throat is closing up as Matt's lips open to answer.
No, he isn't alright.
He broken and bruised and I don't know how or why but I can tell it's there right behind his eyes-
    " Fine." He sighs, then continues up to his room.
    I hear his door shut quietly.
    A lock clicks into place.