𝙐𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙂𝙀𝙏𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀, 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘶𝘺𝘢. 𝘯

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉 ; 𝙩𝙬𝙤

tw: self harm.

the ginger woke up that morning feeling worse then the last, groaning as he realized it was already morning and he had been lacking on getting sleep. his arm reached over to where you used to sleep, feeling around for you as he did every morning.

he grabbed his phone from beside him, texting the phone number he knew was out of order. rereading your last message to him over and over again before ultimately breaking down and sobbing at how stupid he was for even letting you leave the restaurant.

the reason you're dead, is his fault. it's always his fucking fault.

he tossed his phone to the other side of the bed, forcing himself to sit up and scoff at how much of a mess he was. his room was disgusting, as was he. he refused to leave his room, nor even answer the door. especially if it was kouyou. he figured he deserved this hell. after all, he was at fault.

the phone beside him dinged, causing him to flinch before racing to grab his phone and read who it was from.

dazai.

he flipped the phone face down after turning off his sounds, leaving the phone on the bed and heading to the bathroom, quickly hopping into the shower as it was still cold.

he flipped the switch to the highest temperature, wanting to feel anything other than whatever he was feeling now.

the steam started to raise as the water slowly heated up, chuuya slid down the wall to a sitting position, his knees up to his chest as the burning hot water spewed on him.

all he could do was silently sob. no noise came out of his mouth other than a few incoherent whimpers, his head tossed back against the cold tile behind him as his breathing patterns got worse and worse with each passing second.

his nails scratched at the skin on his arms, causing light bleeding as he cried out.

he felt so stupid.

so dumb for letting you go.

he seen you in that hallway, he could've stopped you to talk to you.

but he didn't. because he was fucking scared.

so all he's left with now, is the memory of you and the scars of you leaving.

honestly,

he wanted to die.

he wanted to be with you. no matter what form you were in, he couldn't stand to live his life without you. you impacted him greatly and he can't just let you go like that.

but he can't.

he can't just.. kill himself.

so he resulted to inflicting as much pain as possible.

not eating, not drinking, taking scalding hot showers, scratching himself till he bleeds.

he was at blame, he deserved every bit of it.

it took him an hour and a half to shower. but even then he had to physically force himself to get up.

he stayed laying in bed more, staring at the ceiling as he recalled the feeling of you beside him.

fuck.

he was literally going insane for someone he swore he never would for.

his heart felt heavy when he turned his head to the side, where he would normally look at you while you slept.

he was exhausted. he didn't want to cry anymore, he was tired. his eyes hurt from constantly crying and the lack of sleep piled on top of it.

"fuck.." he nipped at his lips, "fuck." 

he knew he was spiralling. he couldn't trust himself right now, but he didn't want anyone to see him this fucking weak.

so he let himself go.

he let himself go down a bad road, inhaling a bottle of wine as he sobbed to himself silently.

"fuck!" he threw the half empty bottle, it smashed against the wall, the glass breaking into a million little pieces as the liquid spilled onto the floor.

he grabbed one of the little pieces of sharp glass, playing with it in his hands as it drew blood against his palm.

he sunk against the wall, his legs stretched out as he looked down at the glass with tears filling his eyes.

the glass shimmered against the dark room, bringing some light onto his face as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

he so badly didn't want to do this. he was in pain, but this was not the way to go.

but, after all, he wasn't thinking straight.

he brought the glass up to his wrist, looking at the old scars he had left from when he was a teenager. when he was in the same state of mind.

the blood in his palm was smearing over the darkly coloured glass.

he bit his lip as he turned his head up to the ceiling, the glass cutting into his wrist. he could feel the warmth of the dark red substance hitting his hands.

nothing but a little whimper came out as he cried out in pain.

the glass in his hand dropped to the floor as he quickly squeezed his wrist, finally glancing down at the large sum of blood oozing out from underneath his hand.

he gasped as he finally lifted his hand, noticing the large cut vertical down his wrist, it crossed over a large vein in his arm.

he quickly stood up, feeling the blood drip onto the ground as it was ridiculously loud in his ears. he felt weak, like he was going to pass out at the sight of this much blood. he reached for a long sleeve shirt as he threw it over top of his body, the sleeves sticking to his arms as the blood began to leak through.

the blanket on his bed brought chuuya some warmth as he glared at the dark spot on his sleeve.

"fuck.."