Nico felt tears well up as immensely tragic memories replayed through his mind.
He was sad, but he was angry, too. So angry. He turned the bathroom light off and marched right back to his razor. He couldn't go to the dinner party like this, especially when he was coming in late - hell, he probably couldn't go to the dinner party at all.
He picked up the razor and touched his skin with it, but didn't break it yet. He took deep breaths, trying to see if calming down would relieve the ache inside of him, but it didn't. He needed to cut just one more time tonight.
So he did. He slid the razor deep into his veins, not caring how deep, just going until his brain told him that it was enough. And when his brain told him, he pulled it out, leaving a thin line with blood pooling out of it, dripping all over his bedsheets.
His breathing levelled out and his tears stopped. With his clean hand, he wiped his cheeks. He stared down at his cut, and the cuts he'd made only minutes beforehand.
This was why he didn't deserve his family. Because one night was defining everything for him, and tearing him up into this.
He was like paper. One rip at the corner, peeling it away from the rest of the paper, and suddenly none of the corners were worth anything.
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Nico di Angelo One-shots
FanfictionI love Nico di Angelo, as you may have noticed. I have one-shot books for him on Tap, he's a main character in AT LEAST half of my stories, and is one of my FAVORITE characters Rick Riordan created. To sum it up, I'm a fangirl. So, I now present to...
