Depressed Magcon Imagines

Nash

Right now, you're in a plain hotel room that features one bed, one bathroom, a couch, and a little kitchenette. Nash left you about two hours ago to go to a meet and greet. In that time, you've been stuck listening only to the wild cries of your mind.

Currently, you're thinking about your relationship with Nash. You hear him all the time when he tells you that he loves you, but you are having a hard time convincing yourself that he ever truly validates his affectionate claim with a look in his eyes. Slowly, you convince yourself that his "loving" you is all an act.

Of course he's faking, you think to yourself. Taking in a pitiful girl like you, would only make him look better. He'd be the nice guy that cares for the ugly girl.

"I'm so stupid!" You cry out to the walls. "How could I ever believe a guy like him could ever love a girl like me!?"

You feel yourself swirling into a panic. Your chest is tightening, your heart rate is bolting, your ears are drowning with ringing, and your body is tingling with numbness. The last drop of self control you have is about to disappear.

You want to feel something. Anything to take the pressure away. You fling yourself onto the cold, hard kitchen floor and you feel the entire impact as your body forcefully collides with tile. You feel your head, and you feel warm, sticky blood run onto your fingers as you press on your scalp. Your eyes spot the cutlery set on the counter. Suddenly, you find yourself in anguish, trying to decide whether or not to cave in to your desires to cut. Five months ago, you promised Nash you wouldn't cut anymore; however, with the idea that Nash doesn't actually care about you in your head, breaking a promise to him doesn't seem like a big deal.

You grab the first knife you can reach--a serrated steak knife. You know the jagged edges will make the cuts messy, but you can't care less. Ferociously, you dig into the tops of your thighs. Blood begins to spill out of you in giant drops. You have completely lost any control over your body, and you repeat the same cutting motion over and over again. You feel the rest of you legs become wet, and you realize that a massive pool of blood has formed around you. Looking at your thighs, you notice that your cuts are deeper than they ever were before: You can see the all of the layers of skin and the beginning of the fat layer.

Your vision is blurry, and your mind is a buzzing mess of nothingness; however, you can't stop cutting yourself: It's as if you have lost all control of your movements.

As soon as you start to panic about not being able to stop, Nash walks into the room.

"Babe, I'm ba-- " Nash begins to say as he walks through the door. "(Y/N), NO! "

Nash runs over to you and rips the knife out of your hand.

"Baby, what's going on!" Nash yells.

As he looks at your thighs, he realizes that you are in need of serious medical attention.

"I- I'm sorry," you croak, as he begins to wrap your thighs tightly with towels.

"Hey, hey now, (Y/N)" Nash says, as he tenderly grabs your face. "You're not the one that needs to be sorry. Clearly, I'm not doing my job at being your boyfriend--the man who is always supposed to make you feel loved--very well. Can you tell me what actually started this? I want to make it better."

"Well, to be honest, this all happened because I convinced myself that I was just a charity case, and you never even loved me. I don't know, Nash. I over analyze everything, and it's easy for me to distort reality. You're truly wonderful, and I don't want you to think any less of yourself because of this."

"How could I not think less of myself, (Y/N)? My beautiful angel of a girlfriend doesn't even realize how much I love her. I am so so sorry. I promise that I will forever give my best effort to show you my love for you each and every minute that we are together."

"So you're not mad I broke my promise?"

"Of course not, (Y/N), because I broke mine too. When I made the vow to be your boyfriend, part of the job I undertook was to make sure you know just how special and loved you are. I failed at that, and I am not sure if I can ever forgive myself for that. Your health is one of my top priorities, and the fact that I caused this is terrible. I am so sorry, beautiful. I really do love you so much. Everything from your beautiful, silky hair, to your dainty feet is perfect. Your humor never fails to make me laugh, and your giggles are contagious. You light up my world, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you in my arms."

"Nash, you're wonderful. I can never thank you enough for all that you have done for me--you've helped me more than you even know. I promise to be less doubting from now on, just as you promise to display your love better. I love you so much Nash, I really really do."

Nash and you share a passionate kiss, and when your lips separate Nash tenderly held his forehead to yours, looking at you with love in his eyes. After, he drives you to the emergency room to get your wounds stitched up. You are released shortly after, and you spend the rest of the day being loved by Nash.

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Author's note

Hey guys. I hope you have had a nice day so far! :) I just wanted to know...Does anyone actually want me to keep writing these? Does anyone even like my writing? I want honest answers, please.