Wilmon Oneshots :)

The Cut That Always Bleeds. - Wilhelm's POV

TW: Suicide, Anxiety, Depression, cursing, etc.
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I gripped my chest, wrapping my fingers around my shirt. My breath began to quicken as tears formed in my eyes. I gulped. A ring from the phone erupted. I pressed my palms over my ears and forced my head into my knees. The phone continued to ring.
"Fuck," I whimpered.
The tears rolled down my face as I looked over towards the bottle of medication. My vision went blurry before my arms covered my stomach. I tried to focus on my surroundings. My back leaning on the bed frame, my feet on the floor, the phone ringing only two feet away from me. I took a deep breath and glanced down at my wrists. My white shirt was covered with blood. My own blood. I sobbed at the sight of this mess. My view went back to the bottle sitting on my desk. I shakily exhaled and found myself crawling towards the desk. My hand swiped the bottle on to the ground. I shook as my hand reached the white container. I smiled at the tiny pills that sat in the bottom. A tear dripped down in the bottle. I wiped the tears off my cheeks before pouring the capsules into my hand.
"This is goodbye. I guess," I whispered to myself.
I allowed my eyes to wonder around one last time. I studied the dark sky out of the window, the pushed in chair in front of me, the door closed all the way. I gulped before staring back down at my hand.
A frantic knock came from my door.
"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit," I repeated.
A voice came from the other end, "Wille, let me in," Simon.
I sobbed, staring at the door.
"Wille? I know you're in there," He fretted.
I put my hand over my mouth, trying to hide my whimpers and tears. I swallowed.
Simon spoke forcefully, "I'm coming in if you don't open this right now!"
I could hear the tears welling up in his eyes. I closed my eyes and allowed the thoughts to overtake me. Put the pills in your mouth. Do it. End it all. Nobody will care. Simon can't stop it. I open them back up to look at the white pills again.
"That's it, I'm coming in," Simon announced from the other side of the door.
My heart hurt, knowing he'll see me like this. The door handle moved before being forced open.
"Wille?" He peaked in.
I silently sobbed.
His eyes met mine, "Wille!" He screamed.
I wailed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I covered my face.
Simon kneeled next to me and grabbed my arm, "Why... why would you?" He stumbled.
I gulped, "I'm tired, Simon."
He picked up the bottle and stared at the pills in my hand. We made eye contact again.
"Wille."
"What? Are you going to tell me it will all be okay?" I scoffed.
He shook his head, "No. I just think we should get you cleaned up."
I swallowed, "Okay."
He grabbed a first aid kit from my closet and pulled a few bandages out of the small box. Simon allowed the cloth to cover my wounds. He grabbed my hand and poured the pills into his own hand. He placed each capsule back in the container. Simon picked an oversized shirt and sweatpants from my closet. His hand grazed my face, wiping the tears away. He lightly laid the clothes on my lap.
"I love you, Wille. Please don't ever think nobody does," Simon reassured.
I nodded, "Thank you. I love you too."
"Okay, let's get you dressed!" Simon pulled me on to my feet and helped me slip on my clothes.
I rested my head in his lap after changing. I felt his hand grace through my hair as I shut my eyes. I quickly fell asleep.