"Phil?"

two

I wake up in the middle of the night, my wrists itching.

"Not now, I've been clean for so long," I groan, throwing my hands over my face. I lift my arms, staring at the scars littering my wrists. I try to ignore it but the urge just gets stronger.

I groan again as I pull myself up, making my way to the bathroom connected to my room. My bedroom is already locked, so I don't bother even closing the door to the bathroom. I dig through my dirty laundry pile, finding the blade I'd hid. I twirl it between my fingers before resting it upon my my arm.

"I'm sorry...." I whisper before dragging it across, remembering the promise I'd made to Phil so many months ago. I pick it up and drag it across my skin another few times on one wrist, then move onto the next. I close my eyes, feeling the hot tears rolling down my face.

The next thing I knew, I felt a pair of long, warm arms wrapped around my torso, and a small voice whispering in my ear that it'll be okay.

"I'm sorry, Phil, I broke my promise..." I said, sobbing into his shoulder. He was stroking my hair now.

"Hey, hey, shush. It's okay, it's okay. I know it's hard to stop and takes time, it's okay. I'm here for you," he whispers in my ear again.

He helps me clean the wounds, then brings me over to my bed, where he continues to hug and reassure me. He keeps whispering into my ear something, but I can't make out quite what it is, as I'm slowly falling asleep. Eventually, I completely pass out from being too lightheaded from crying so much, but I feel slightly better having Phil next to me.