Miguel O'Hara x Reader [one-shots]

CHEATED [A/W] [TW!!] (P.III)

THE MOMENT HE left, I awoke. It was dark, but the moonlight gave me a ray of light I was thankful for. I don't think I'd ever be comfortable in the dark.

Not after what happened.

I wasn't even sure what happened, really. I still felt like I cheated on Miguel — like it was my fault. The man told me it was my fault.

It was my fault.

My fault.

I moved my hands to my hair, gripping the strands tightly. I rocked myself, clearly spiraling.

I couldn't handle it. The flashes, Miguel's reaction, and the blood that will be on his hands.

I sniffled, tears strolling down my cheeks. I could still his hands on me. Gripping my wrists, my thighs, my legs. It was like a tattoo, completely engrained in me.

I wanted it off.

I cried as I stood up off the bed. I needed to get the tattoos off.

I opened my door.

Off, I needed them off.

I stumbled into the living room. I didn't even know what I was looking for, but I knew once I saw them, it would feel right.

My chest squeezed the more I looked. I bumped into every corner, every wall, every obstacle that came my way.

I stumbled into the kitchen.

I looked and looked and looked until it felt right.

I pulled the object out.

I slid down the counters, and stared at the knife in my hand. I cried and cried and cried until the tears dried out and I felt numb.

I stared at the knife as I pulled it down to my wrist.

I cut.

Then, the other wrist.

And I felt a weight leave. Suddenly I felt free.

I pulled my pants down. I brought the knife to my thighs.

I watched the blood coat the floors.

I found peace in the red.

I moved down to my legs.

I cut from my ankle to my knees.

I shivered.

I dropped the knife onto the ground.

I closed my eyes.

It felt freeing to have the weight of my memories off my shoulders. Without them, I was finally falling asleep.

So tired.

I wondered why I didn't start this earlier.

I slide down further onto the floor. The blood coats the side of my face and my hair.

I can't feel it.

I'm glad.

I smile.

I'm just going to sleep.

When I wake up, everything will be okay again. I will be in Miguel's arms, and the memories will have been perished.

They are fading.

I can't feel it anymore.

I can't feel anything anymore.

Only tiredness.

I stretch.

I hear a door click open. I get scared, but I don't have any strength in me to move away from the intruder.

I hear someone call my name.

I realize it's Miguel.

I open my eyes, but only partially. He's covered in blood, and it's not mine. He curses and picks me up.

I watch as Miguel panics, his eyes wide.

I find peace in his red.

He runs out of our apartment with me in his arms and we're going down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" I hear my voice. It's far and tiny.

"Fuck, Y/N, stay awake!" I see him periodically glance down at me.

"I'm sorry," I hear my voice again, and I think it's funny how I can't feel my mouth move but I can hear my voice.

He shakes his head and kisses my forehead. He sits in the drivers seat with me in my lap. He starts the car and drives immediately.

"Y/N, why did you do that, baby?" He held me tight with one arm, and I can hear his voice break.

He's crying.

"I didn't want to feel it anymore," I gasp for air I suddenly don't seem to have.

Then, I see a light.

And I am gone.