Pj's POV
I held my razor, and listened as Chris laughed with his girlfriend, Amy, about something on the T.V.
Tears streamed down my face, as I swiftly slid the sharp pieces of metal across my ghostly pale skin.
I had been cutting myself almost as long as I had loved Chris. I fell in live with him when we had first met.
I knew he doesn't love me back, so I started to cut. I wish I could stop, I hate it. But there's always that voice in the back of my head telling me I'm not good enough and no one would ever miss me. It tells me I should just end it all.
But I'll never go that far. Even though Chris doesn't love me that way, he still loves me as a friend, and would be sad to see me go. So that's why I'm still alive.
Chris has both killed me and saved me.
I would never believe this, but sometimes, late at night when everyone is in bed, I wonder if it was really worth it. Then I decide, of course it was. Chris' happiness means the most to me, more than my own, so I suffer in silence. 3 years of silence.
I've wished for a companion for the last year and a half or so, that's when I really became lonely. But still, Chris is just as oblivious as he was on that first day...
I set down the razor in its special place, and grabbed the towel. I wiped off my wrists and set it down again.
I looked around, and noticed my guitar in the corner of the room. I stood up and grabbed it, checking if it's in tune.
I started to sing one of my favourite songs, The Only Exception, by Paramore. It truly was a beautiful song.
I felt like it was written just for me. I was abused as a child, and my parents' didn't love each other...
I started to strum, and let the music take over...
Chris' POV
Amy texted me, asking if she could come over. I texted back, telling her yes, and waited.
Within ten minutes she was here. I offered her tea or coffee, but she denied. She hadn't taken off her shoes either, so this was very unusual...
"Listen, we need to talk..." Amy said, sitting down. I sat beside her, and nodded.
"So, here's the thing..." She started. I knew where this was going.
"I just... I-I don't think we... We're working out..." She said, sadly. I nodded, and she looked at me.
"I think we should break up." She whispered. I nodded again, and hugged her.
"I'm sorry." She murmured into my shoulder. I pulled back, and smiled, sadly.
"I know." I told her. She smiled back, and stood up.
"Maybe we can still be friends?" She asked.
Once again, I nodded. "I'd like that."
She smiled, and left. I let a sob escape, even though I didn't really love her...
The sob sounded more like a laugh for some reason, and that made me laugh.
I stay on the couch for about five minutes, before I heard the sound of a guitar.
I stood, and walked toward Pj's room... Pj, the one I love who will never love me back... I sighed, and put my ear on the door.
"When I was younger I saw, my daddy cry, and curse at the wind." I heard Pj's beautiful voice coming through.
"He broke his own heart and I watched, as he tried to re... assem... ble it." Pj sang. I smiled, and opened the door slightly.
There Pj sat, guitar in hand, bloody wrist, and tears down his cheeks.
I gasped, but he kept singing. I ran in, and held onto him tightly.
"Oh, and I'm, on, my way to believing..." Pj sang, strumming the last note.
Tears streaming down my face, I grabbed Pj's cheeks, and kissed him.
He wept softly, and I did too, as our lips moulded together.
"I love you." He whispered when I pulled away.
I smiled, and whispered,
"I love you, too."
YOU ARE READING
Music (A KickTheStickz One-Shot)
RomanceMusic is the best medicine. (Trigger Warning: Self harm)