olive. a word that signifies peace, besides its most common usage as food.
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a story in which she helps him find peace beyond his despondent thoughts.
(trigger warning: deals with self harm and depression)
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as she walked in the halls of their school, olive thought of all of the progress luca had made. at his house he was genuinely happy to be with her, genuinely happy to be happy.
but, when luca showed up today, it wasn't the same luca that she saw a few days ago.
when they were playing games, when they were laughing, when they were smiling, when they were happy.
no. he showed up disheveled, worn, distraught.
like he had suddenly slipped back into the the darkness of the hole he was once trying to forget. and olive was concerned, so she walked up to him, without a word, she fixes his hair a bit. running her fingers through the short disheveled hair. trying to fix it up a bit, at the same time, soothing his aching heart.
they both knew they looked kind of weird to other people in the hallway, but neither of them cared. neither of them even gave anyone else a second glance.
"hey" olive finally spoke. she tried meeting his eyes with hers, but his eyes remained focused on his toes. dark bags around them, blood shot and had no shine to them at the moment. "luca, what's going on?" she asked him, after he didn't say a word, yet, he responded, not by his words but by the shake of his head. telling her that he didn't want to talk about it.
then he smiles, not a normal smile though. one that will send chills down your spine. one that was lazy and whimsical.
"luca, are you high right now?" olive whispered to him. "let's go. come on." she dragged luca outside hurriedly, hoping no one would catch onto his loopy manner.
as the both of them rounded the corner of the school, olive turned towards him and said, "what the hell is going on, luca. speak." he looked around, slowly, testing her patience.
"i don't have any idea what you are talking about." he said, almost like his words were dizzy, tumbling out of his mouth after they had been stirred up in a blender.
"let me see your wrists" she demanded. putting her hands out in front of her, looking up at luca's towering figure.
"fuck no" he quickly rejected. though, that doesn't stop olive as she yanked his arm towards her, tightly holding his hand and using the other hand to roll up the sleeve. and she saw them. honestly, she wasn't surprised. seeing the state that he was in, it was obvious that he had relapsed.
olive felt his pain though. something must of really hurt him for him to hurt himself again. and she felt all of it.
she stared at the fresh cuts, she felt dejected and sad, pain shooting through her heart. but this was short lived as he yanked his arm away quickly.
"no means no, olive! do you speak fucking english?! god damn." he said, aggressively running his hands through his hair and looking away.
yet olive does not cower. she calmly told him once more, "we're leaving. come on."
""""" a / n :
oh wow. im so bad at updating, sorry. :( i'll be better.
