Havenfell

Chapter 9: It's All Too Much

(Trigger Warning: The action of self-harm is described  - no details involved - to show Felicity's struggles with their mental health. Please be careful and SKIP this chapter if  you are easily triggered by this topic.)

Felicity found themselves alone in their hotel room, the argument still echoing in their mind like a relentless storm. The hurtful words, the revelations, and the tension had left them feeling raw and exposed. Their chest felt tight, and it was getting harder to breathe. The silence of the room was oppressive, and their thoughts swirled into a dark, chaotic mess.

They glanced at the bathroom door, a small, quiet sanctuary away from the world. The need to escape, to find some form of relief, was overwhelming. Felicity stood up, their movements mechanical and detached, and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

The room was dimly lit, and Felicity's reflection stared back at them from the mirror, eyes red and puffy from held-back tears. Their hands trembled as they opened the small drawer by the sink, pulling out a familiar, worn object. They ran their fingers along the edge, feeling the cold, sharp metal.

Felicity sat down on the floor, their back against the cold tiles. Taking a deep breath, they rolled up their sleeve, revealing a canvas of old scars and fresh marks. They hesitated, their heart pounding, but the need for release was stronger than their fear.

As they pressed the metal to their skin, a sharp sting followed by a dull ache spread through their arm. Felicity focused on the physical pain, letting it drown out the turmoil inside their mind. They stifled their sobs, biting their lip hard to keep any sound from escaping. The tears flowed silently, mingling with the blood.

When they were done, Felicity leaned back, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over them. The pain had given them something tangible to hold onto, a way to anchor themselves amid their emotional tempest. They ran their hand along the scars, old and new, tracing the lines with a mixture of sadness and resignation.

Their breathing slowed, and they wiped their eyes, trying to compose themselves. The familiar numbness crept back in, and Felicity clung to it, using it as a shield against the overwhelming emotions threatening to break free. They cleaned the cuts methodically, their movements slow and deliberate, as if on autopilot.

After bandaging their arm, Felicity stood up, staring at their reflection once more. They forced themselves to take a deep breath, willing the mask of composure back into place. No one needed to know. They couldn't burden their friends with this, not after everything that had happened.

With one last glance in the mirror, Felicity walked out of the bathroom, closing the door on their pain. They joined the others, hiding their turmoil behind a fragile facade of normalcy, determined to keep their struggles hidden from the world.