Solangelo One-shots.

Harm.

The razor glinted when the light hit it, before dulling again, as he lowered the blade. Cutting himself, it was bittersweet. It stung and hurt, but at least, he felt something. Otherwise, he was just numb. Numb and angry. He couldn't even cry. He'd rather let blood spill than tears. The sleeves of his hoodie rode up to his elbows, and he glimpsed the scars that littered his underarms. He'd been doing this for months. Hell, he couldn't even remember when his skin had been pure, absent from the ugly, ugly scars that decorated him. He was angry. Angry at the world for taking away Bianca, angry at the world for making him and outcast, angry at the world for making him watch as his parents were murdered right in front of his eyes. The razor slid across his pale skin, a shallow cut formed. Hissing in pain, he relished the painful sting. Afterward, numbness would scream in his arm. Everyday. It was the only thing he looked forward to. Then, the guilt would weigh on him. The bone-crunching, soul-wrenching guilt. He knew, deep in the depths of his heavily guarded heart that he was doing the wrong thing. He knew he was a coward for this. He knew. And that just made him hate himself more. He hated the world, he hated the people that made him suffer, he hated the people who pretend to help him. But most of all? 

He hated himself. 

His thoughts swirled, and tears began to trickle down his cheeks. His cheeks were hollow, eyes shadowed and full of grief, pain, hurt, sadness.The hurt seemed overwhelming. Why hadn't he killed himself already? The pain surely, surely would end. So why not? All it took was one painless, deep gash and he'll be at peace, right? The blade, clutched tightly in his palm glinted, as though daring him to slit his wrists. He can do it. All it takes, is one...deep..cut. And everything...will..be...so...peaceful. 

The blade hovered inches above his wrist, and he could see the slow thrum of his pulse, and the blood that ran in his veins and arteries, staining them red. The edge of the blade prodded thoughtfully at the vulnerable skin. 

Drive it in, Nico. Then, nothing hurts anymore. 

Nico tried to think. He'd been doing this for months. He could have ended this so much earlier. Why didn't he? 

DO IT, NICO. 

His breaths became short, and shallow. He could hear his demons, the ones he'd been fighting for years, screaming at him.

Why didn't he!? 

With a strangled cry, he tossed the razor toward the other end of the bathroom. It hit the wall with a dull thud. Why didn't he? Why couldn't he? 

You are a fool. 

Tears ran freely down his cheeks, and he could only hear is ragged breathing and steady pulse. It had been the first time he'd been so intimate with Death. With a jolt, he realised... 

I don't want to die.

His mind cleared, and now he knew. 

It's ironic, how people said that love could destroy as it could heal. Nico had loved. His family. And it had destroyed him, belittled him, left him in ruins. And yet...he'd fallen again, though oblivious. Now, he knew. It was as if his subconcious was hiding something from him, and then using it as protection from Death itself. He'd fallen. He'd never realised it, but yeah. It was so clear now. It had been the only thing that stopped him from robbing himself from his future. 

You have so much to live for, Nico.

###

They were sitting lazily on the bed, Will tracing the almost faded scars on his arms. A small smile fluttered to his face. He remembered when he'd taken the leap of faith, and confessed to Will. He was just so...tired not being able to feel. When he found out that Will liked him back, he actually felt the heaviness of his heart lift. Lift! And so, here they were, Nico, slowly building himself up and Will, being there for him. 

End.

Author's note: I'm very passionate about this. Self-harm or even suicide is never the answer. I wish I have a superpower that can make everyone that even thinks about self-harming heal. But I don't. The most I can do is offer my listening ear. Maybe some of you don't have people to talk to, for you fear of being judged. But I assure you. I will not judge. And I will try to help. I, myself have had experience with slight depression, and it can be nothing compared to some of you, but please, please remember that someone out there loves you. I do! Always remember you can message me or whatnot. Please take care babes. I'm dead serious.

Love, K.