shattered : loki's story

never really quit

Warnings:
Description of blood, mention of a blade, mention of sh urges.

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The night was wide awake, a clock faintly chiming for midnight in the villages below Asgards Castle.
He sat up from his bed, his body aching as he moved slowly, feeling the bruises that painted himself with every turn he made.
He felt a knot in his stomach, it burnt, a familiar feeling that was left to stray in the past.
His eyes were heavy, and anxious as he rolled up his sleeve, feeling sick as he glared at the white lines that were almost faded on his pale arms.
Loki's mother's voice whispered at the back of his empty head.
"If you ever feel it getting bad again Loki you come straight to me."
The memory was quick to swipe away.
He turned to his side, his mother was not there.

Lokis POV

I stared daggers into the drawers beside me, pulling open the top one, and taking out a small black box.
I felt sick, physically sick, as the knot in my stomach grew tighter.
I lifted the lid, as I had many times in the past, for once in many years seeing the blade hidden beneath the padding of the jewellery box.
"I can't do it."
I whisper to myself.

The blade sits in my quivering hands, stained with a dark sepia substance.

"I...I can't do it.."

It gets closer and closer to my skin before falling onto the wooden tiles beneath me as I jump, someone barging through my bedroom doors.

Fandrals POV

I slipped into his room, freezing in shock as a blade fell from his slim hands.

"L..loki?"
I whisper nervously, he doesn't reply, just sitting on his bed looking completely ashamed of himself.

"I pick up the blade from the floor, chucking the object into Lokis bin, deep between the rubbish.

"I...I didn't know I.."
I stutter out anxiously.
Loki swallows hard

"It isn't what it looks like Fandral please.."
His voice is shaking and strained as his throat is tight with anxiousness.

I wasn't taking his excuse, but just walked towards him slowly, not to alert him at all. I sit next to him in his bed, taking his hands in mine.

"You can talk to me you know love?"
I say softly, holding him tightly, resting my chin on top of his head.
He hums in reply, sounding exhausted.

I hesitate before I speak, gathering the courage to say it to him.

"Were you going to do it?"
I whisper.
Loki shrugs.

"I don't.. know."

I nod, moving across the bed allowing him to rest in my arms, his head laying tiredly on my shoulder.
He was shorter than me when his boots were off, although we never spoke of it we both knew it very well.

"I've got you."
I say quietly into his ear, trying to comfort his tense form that was wrapped around mine.

Hours pass, Loki and Fandral now tangled around each other in the sheets, Loki's slightly smaller figure wrapped around his waist tightly.
The door creaks open, and Frigga comes in to check on Loki, praying that he is resting at least.
She sees the two boys, holding each other tightly as they sleep, a smile back on her face.
However, it softly fades as her eyes trail down to the blade that lies in the bin beside them.

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Sorry they've been short atm, the last ones I wrote very late/ early ig x