And So They Move Uptown: A Theodosia/Philip Story

Twenty Six: Giving up

A/N: Suicide trigger warning in this chapter. It will be marked with a line of dashes and will last until the end of the chapter. Also, a super passive aggressive author's note at the end.

Panic flashed across Adam's face, and he bolted up the stairs, standing in front of his friend. "I really don't think you should go in there! I mean, it's a mess, I'm really embarrassed of it." Philip moved him aside.

He threw the bedroom door open, eyes immediately landing on Madelyn, in her corset and slip. The loud banging scared a yelp out of her, and she quickly turned around.

"Ph-Philip, I swear, this isn't what you think it is!" she stammered, eyes wide with fear. All the anger from his face melted into sadness as he stared down at the seemingly helpless girl.

Adam stood behind him, looking just as angry as Philip had. "You never told me you were dating anyone, much less Philip!"

"I didn't think I had to," she defended. "I'd do what I've been doing with him all along: lead them on, get the money, and move on!"

Something inside of Philip snapped.

He bolted out, feeling his eyes sting with tears he didn't know were there.

********* 

Somehow, Theodosia managed to escape her father's careful watch and go into town. She was in better shape than before, looking better dressed and having only one seizure every few days, but behind her extravagant facade, there was a dull ache that consumed her. Burr insisted that it was only from laying in bed all day, but refused to let her move anyways. 

Theodosia knew it was Philip.

As she wrapped her thin arms around her torso to keep the cold out, the same thought passed through her mind. Her eyes followed a figure down the street and into an apartment.

Theodosia knew it was Philip.

She ran after him, stumbling over the hem of her cloak.

---TRIGGER WARNING---

________________________________________________________________________________

His wrists throbbed as he slid a kitchen knife across them, watching blood surface. His thoughts were a blur in his head, unable to grasp just one. He mindlessly repeated the task, the cool knife feeling natural in his grip.

The blur of the knife and blood were the last things he laid his eyes on before the world shut off.

________________________________________________________________________________

Hi guys! 

I know, I haven't updated in a while. Completely my fault.

If you don't want to here my open letter of passive aggressive-ness, I advise you stop here.

Dear reader,

I honestly hope that you're doing okay, I wish you no harm or bad luck. That's incredibly low. But really, giving me criticism on this story, and not bothering to let me know in a respectful way, or not letting me know at all, that hurts. 

I pride myself on this story, and how successful it has been. I really am thankful for every single one of my readers, including yourself. What I am not thankful is hate, and insults.

Best of luck,

< Jella >