drifted | M.R.

006 | drunk

trigger warning: drinking, self harm
word count: 936

Brooke had finally gotten out of bed.

But it was only for a moment, to go downstairs and grab a bottle of vodka before going back to her room and closing the door.

She wanted the pain to go away. She wanted the feeling of being left behind to disappear. At first she thought sleep would do the trick, but when she started having nightmares she realized it wasn't the case.

So she turned to alcohol, like Mattheo does. She popped open the cap and took a sip, relaxing because of the sting that laid on the back of her throat. Her eyes fell shut as she brought the bottle to her lips once again, this time making a face as the liquid went down.

She eyes the bathroom and sighed, setting the bottle on the nightstand and walking over to her dresser, pulling out a long sleeve. She walked to the bathroom and shut the door, making sure she locked it when she did.

She slid down the wall, looking into the shower and seeing if what she was looking for laid anywhere. And she found it. A small smile went to her face and she felt the vodka doing it's magic. She reached over and took the handle of the razor in her hand, staring at it for a little while. She flipped her arm over and let the razor glide over her wrists.

She didn't feel the need to cry. She just wanted to feel something. And this is what she turned to when her comfort person wasn't there at the moment. Mattheo helped her get out of the mental state when she did this to herself before but now that he isn't here....she can do it.

A small tear finally rolled down her cheek, but that's all she allowed to roll down. She wiped it and stared at the blood that was dripping from her wrists. She set down the razor on the side for the tub and took her shirt off, slipping on the one that had long sleeves.

She felt the world spinning slightly and it made her smile. She lifted her sleeves back up and flipped her arm over, picking up the razor again and letting it slide over her arms this time.

She felt like she needed to feel pain. Like she needed to suffer for killing their baby girl. So she gathered some toilet paper up dabbing at the blood to take some of it away. Even if it bleeds through the shirt it was black so it wouldn't be very noticeable.

She finally stood up, a little too quickly because she felt the world spin and she felt like she was gonna pass out. She gripped the counter tightly and let herself focus slightly before letting go and unlocking the door. She curled back into bed and started drinking once again.

What she didn't know is that downstairs the group was talking when the doors opened and a certain chocolate haired boy came in, looking exhausted.

"Mattheo?" Belle said in a whisper as she was sitting next to Enzo who had a hand on the small of her back.

"Where's Brooke?" He asked, looking around the kitchen.

"She's in her room. She hasn't left since everything happened except one time for getting vodka." Draco said with a glare towards Mattheo.

"And you let her drink it?" He said with annoyance evident in his voice. Belle and Daphne raised to their feet.

"Do not tell us how to be friends when you haven't even been here for her and your her God damn boyfriend!" Belle shouted, trying to not wake the 'sleeping' girl up.

"I haven't been here because-" He got cut off by Theodore.

"You have feelings too. We all understand. But how do you think she feels? She was carrying the baby. She wanted comfort from her boyfriend."

"I'm tired guys.." Mattheo said with a hand to his forehead.

"You know where the guest bedroom is, use it." Pansy said coldly. Everyone saw how Mattheo's face dropped but no one said anything. He just nodded and turned around, going towards the bedroom but when he heard small sobs he sighed, opening the door to their room.

Brooke looked up and saw Mattheo enter, she felt he would just leave once again so she didn't think much of it but let the tears continue to fall. Mattheo went over and sat down on the bed.

"Brooke..." He whispered, making sure his hand found hers. She wanted to keep it but she felt like she had to pull it away.

"You left-left me." He looked at the nightstand and saw the bottle of vodka almost half drunk.

"I know but...I'm back."

"For-" A little hiccup echoed through the room. "For how-how long though?" He felt everything in him go cold. He never wanted her to feel like this. Like he would up and leave at any time.

Mattheo didn't know what else to do. So, he gently pulled the girl to him. She fought and fought to get out of his grip but after a while she gave up, and melted against him.

This was the safety she wanted to feel. The comfort she needed. And Mattheo felt at peace with his girl in his arms. He laid down and let the girl lay her head on his chest while he gently rubbed her back, lulling her to sleep.

But what Brooke didn't know is that when she woke up, he'd, once again, be gone.