Easy To Love | LapiDot (Human AU)

V

Heavy content warning for self-harm. 

Lapis' POV

I'm staring at my phone screen smiling like a moron right now. I'd never admit it to anyone, let alone Peridot herself, but this dumb blonde has been what I look forward to most days for the past couple of weeks. She talks an awful lot about things I have little to no interest in, but the way she lights up about it is enough for me...sadly. The more I feel myself growing attached to this girl, the more I feel almost disappointed in myself. Things like this never go well for me. Whether it be my own fault or the fault of the other party involved, it's always a dumpster fire either way. And even that isn't considering the fact that I feel guilty to involve someone like her in my life. Someone with an actual future, and actual friends, involving herself so willingly in the terrible situation that my life has always been. Like she's happily walking herself into a trap that I unintentionally designed. I sigh and glance down at the many, many scars and other various marks that have littered my arms throughout the past few years. Of course, Peridot doesn't know about these things. I can't imagine her reaction if she did. It's my dirty little secret, just like it's always been. 

Well, except for...

I shake the thoughts out of my head. Thoughts of her. One of the very few people I have ever allowed myself to be vulnerable to, and of course, it turned around and bit me in the ass. Just like it does with everybody. Just like it did with my shitty parents, who took it entirely the wrong way and sent me away to be evaluated. 

Speaking of which...

I turn my head towards my bedroom door as I hear the all-too-familiar sounds of things slamming and my parents engaging in a violent argument. And at 11pm at night as well, though that's not irregular to me either. I flinch at the sound of the apartment door slamming hard, and the following faint sobs coming from my mother. Grabbing my headphones, pack of cigs and lighter from my bedside table, I sigh once again. To think either of my parents would ever care about me smoking in the apartment is laughable. The window is open anyways, and I'm most definitely not the first person to have smoked in this room, given the state of the walls. Making my way over to said window, I sit down at a desk I have placed nearby while I light a cigarette and put in my headphones. New Chains, Same Shackles by $uicideboy$ comes on and I fall into the music.

"Ayy, another day waiting for death

Every day that I waste on my list of regrets, so I tell myself,

'It's okay, day after next, we'll make all these arrangements to change, you can better yourself'

I know I'm wasting my breath as I inhale

I know I'm wasting my breath as I inhale

I can't recall why I'm suffocating, my lungs are failing"

As I puff on the cigarette in my mouth, I look around outside the window. The typical scene greets me in the alleyway behind our apartment, there's a homeless man sleeping under a torn blanket, surrounded by various garbage and some of his own belongings. I look around at the graffiti art scattered around the area, which inspires me to pull out my well-loved notebook and throw in some sketches.

"Step into the mind of a cutthroat

Empty streets, cold weather, all alone

Blackness, grey air, just snow

Feelings low, being followed by crows

Call list overflowed with hotlines - drug help, mental, suicide

Feel tired, feel dried, and you wanna die

Pride fried, closed eyes, and you start to cry

Swear I spent a lifetime tryna get it right

Still isolated, still outta sight

Keep my dreads swingin' like they in a fight

I just wanna kill everyone in sight

Take the money, take the bitches, take the drugs, take the gold

Baby, let me decompose

Never names said, more shade spit

I'mma see you one day, that's a promise"

Ugh. I put out the cigarette on the ashtray I have sitting on the desk, deciding it's not enough. Opening the drawer of the desk, I glance around at the various plastic bottles of whiskey and grab one. At least it's better than hurting myself, or at least that's what I've been telling myself. As I finish off the bottle and begin to reach for another, an image makes its way into my head, an image of a smiling Peridot laughing and complimenting my art. A deep sigh escapes my mouth and I decide against a second dose, closing the drawer and leaning back in my seat. This girl is going to be my demise, and I can already feel it. 

But what a lovely way to go.

I've already come to such a depressing realization in my mind, thought I don't speak of it or really even give it my time - I'm disgustingly in love. Again. Something about it does feel different, but I doubt it could ever be a good kind of different. Just another torturous and aggravating variation of different. A kind of different that I refuse to let myself give in to, as I'm already convinced it will end in pain. Though actively not giving in to it is just another kind of pain. 

Why do I do this to myself? Why am I so out of control and emotional? Where did it go wrong? Was there even a specific moment it went wrong? Is it my fault...? Who am I kidding, of course it is. Just like it always has been, right?

I can't keep doing this. I can't keep letting my emotions drive me so far. Why do I let her affect the way I think and the things I do so much? I'm not letting it tell me what to do - not letting it keep me emotionally captive. I can't afford it. Deciding I need something more drastic than just some alcohol, I opt for something else. Something that will either calm these thoughts or allow me to drown in them all on my own. So I open the desk drawer once more, this time overlooking the alcohol and reaching instead for a razor blade. Letting the emotions envelop me with such a strangely comforting pain, I guide the blade between my fingers across my forearm as Depression & Obsession by XXXTENTACION flows through my headphones. 

"Depression and obsession don't mix well

I'm poisoned, and my body don't feel well

I ate her, inside and out I feel my stomach turnin'

Make Out Hill, where we met and let our lips do all the talkin',

And now I'm hooked in"

I feel lightheaded but I can't bring myself to stop. I'm not sure what's driving me at this point, whether it be anger, sadness, a mix of both...or even happiness. The dumb happiness I foolishly allow myself to experience in her presence. 

"Depression and obsession don't mix well

Hollywood motels, hell, I think I'm just obsessed with you

Depression and obsession don't mix well

Hollywood motels, hell, I think I'm just obsessed with you"

It's now that I feel the music in question fading in and out of existence. I drop the razor blade onto my desk surface and lay my head back, staring at the ceiling as I feel tears begin to sting my eyes. 

Why am I doing this...I don't want to do this...

I wish she was here. 

1240 words.