Wilder

11.

I caught Wilder's hand, his skin cold and damp. His fingers weren't shaking, they weren't hesitating, their movements like a machine's.

"If you want to cut something, do it to me", I offered my right arm, completely defenseless.

Trying to get Wilder to stop cutting turned out to be much more complicated than I thought it would be.

Because, how do you make someone stop hurting themselves? It's like holding onto sand, onto mist. It turns to ashes in your fingers, leaving you desperate and alone. You can't make someone want to live. Believe me, I tried, but the nothingness didn't fade from his eyes. It just crept into mine, but I don't care anymore.

For the fire in my heart never burned wilder, I want to live so bad even if it means bleeding to death in my highest moments.

It's a thrill you have to pay a grave price for. For such a love that burns mountains, you have to be willing to burn too.

To ashes, Wilder. For you, and for me.

"What...?", his voice was confused, panicked, it was disturbed.

I pushed down, the blade lightly touching my skin. A sharp edge, a threat, something against my instincts.

"From now on", my breath was loud, my heart beating frantically in my chest, "When you want to cut, do it to me"

"No..no!", he gasped when he tried to get his hand out of my grip, but failed. One of his knuckles made a loud noise under the pressure, and Wilder's breaths became more painful.

"Caspian", he was begging, "Your skin is perfect"

Yeah, but I can't stand to see the lines on your skin anymore. It's like a slice in my bones whenever I bandage you, when your blood stains my fingers.

My hold on his hand holding the razor strong and unforgiving, I slice the first line as if I am taking a life. It's so hard to push on when the one you're fighting is you. And in that moment I finally understood, exactly how much pain there is to taking a blade to your skin.

My whole arm went numb, the sharp pain kicking the back of my head in the form of an intense headache. I sucked a breath through my teeth, and I felt Wilder's terror as he started to shake.

"Shhh", I whispered into his ear, feeling more calm than ever. I pulled him back when he tried to run away, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His skin was sweaty, nervous, and I could feel his heartbeat which was much more disturbed than mine.

"D-don't, Caspian", he whispered as I dove into the tan skin of my wrist once again, feeling it split open under my strength.

"Doesn't it feel better?", I whispered into the silky strands that tingled my neck, and I saw him go pale as a violent chill evaded his bones.

I get why people get hooked on the feeling. The thought of you reigning over your body so much that you can destroy it, harm it, mutilate it in any way you wish, is far too amusing. It's compelling, and it draws you with its promises of freedom and the feeling of being in control.

I almost flinched when a drop as hot as the sun fell to my arm, and I saw tears shining on Wilder's face when I dared to look down. My grip weakened from the surprise, and I gasped as his fingers touched my skin.

"Don't", he cried into my shirt, looking more vulnerable than ever before, "Please, no more"

My whole arm started to sting as the first drop of blood landed to the floor, and Wilder's eyes looked immensely pained as he inspected my wrist. His tears were hot and the bandages chillingly cold against my flesh.

With the eyes of a dying child, Wilder crawled into my hold and his arms were so tight around my torso that I felt like I might suffocate. He held on so roughly, like could've ran away.

"Shhh, it's fine", I ruffled his hair, the strands feeling dangerously gentle under my touch, "Calm down"

His hand formed a fist on my chest, his eyes more fierce than I'd ever seen them.

"Your skin was so perfect", he said in a voice close to a sob, and I almost lost my breath when he pulled back and hit me. His punches grew weaker and weaker, his mouth pulling back to a grimace of regret when I didn't move.

"Please don't do it ever again", he clung around my neck, and I exercised my fingers as the feeling in my arm slowly came back.

Do you get how I feel now, Wilder?