Control - Scomiche

7

It was warm.

Just warm scents. Beckoning towards smooth bare skin in a light touch towards a synthetic mood of nothing. Heat radiates off human bodies as a sign of exacting different signals. Bodily heat is a sign of radiance. Soft pecks and tones. It fluctuates towards new types of moods. But it's certain feels that bodies can recognize as recurring sensations fill towards different senses connecting to the brains nervous system.

Maybe these signals weren't all what Mitch felt from Scott, but enough where it felt safe. Because Mitch survived a session without harming himself. Should he be proud? He wasn't sure. It was a different feeling, instead of bloodshed. The metal wasn't upon his arms but comforting arms were holding him? Could he get used to it? Mitch wasn't ready. But he did like it.

So currently Mitch was sitting at the table bare feet sliding against the legs of the chair's. His arms crossed. Dried tear stains chipped on his cheeks, lips chapped. It was brisk enough. Scott was making coffee. This late in the afternoon was not exactly what most people would do but Mitch and Scott felt it normal.

Scott set two steaming coffees, down. He nudged the Elmo mug towards Mitch to who smiled. A small tiny smile, because he did not understand why Scott was still here, why Scott was being nice to him. Why Scott was being, well Scott. Mitch just acted like a complete attention seeker an hour ago, trying to cut himself and hurting Scott in the process.
Scott took a seat across from Mitch, holding his own mug.

Mitch's eyes wavered down to his mug, the coffee was black none of he creamers or odds sugars, just plain and simple, just like him. He wasn't special and didn't deserve any of Scott's treatment.

"I'm sorry."

  Mitch's voice was quiet but enough to where he didn't need to repeat himself. Scott's brows furrowed.

"Mitch, you did nothing wrong." Scott reached out his hand brushing Mitch's bony fingers, oh they were so bony.

"I kicked you, I didn't mean to though." Mitch bit his inner lip.

"You panicked Mitch. It hurts me more that you didn't trust me with you harming yourself."

Mitch's face screwed up, " it's not that I don't trust you," his eyebrows raised, "I do trust you Scott.  I am sorry from keeping it from you."

"Why didn't you?" Scott's asked as gently as he could. Don't scare him Scott.

"Because Scott I was scared that if you knew how fucking messed up I am you'd leave and kick me out of the band. That you'd hate me." Scott's stomach dropped.

"You thought that of me?"

Am I really that bad?

"No, no, no Scott you don't get it, it was never you, it was always me." Mitch crossed his arms harder around his chest, mangled limbs connecting to his ribs. Tears were forming again, I can't talk about this, I need to get out, these are thoughts no one should know.

"It's okay." Scott reached out and grabbed one of Mitch's arms and held his hand gently. "We don't need t talk about this now. If you can't do it, tell me when you're ready." Mitch nodded and shut his eyes swallowing.

You've been calling out for months, he's LISTENING, he is here, just tell him why! You knew why and you know you need to let it out so do it now!"