knee socks - z.m au

second

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains self harm, I won't get into detail though.

I saw his face, he stood out in the group of well dressed people - not that he didn't dress well, he just looked a lot less confident and awkward. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets and one of his canvas clad feet scraped the floor. He looked up and me and smiled, but it didn't seem genuine; it didn't reach his eyes. He walked through the crowd towards me.

I smiled.

When he reached me he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear and let his fingers linger there causing tingles of pleasure to twinge at my body. His eyes looked apologetic and I looked at him confused.

"You aren't worth it, Akira."

-

As weird as it sounds I was tired when I woke the next morning, I was simply tired of waking up as me. I don't know how but I had made my way to the mirror in the bathroom. I lifted the hem of the oversized T-shirt I was wearing and glanced down at my thighs, faint scars were tainted across it.

"I hate you." I said touching my reflection in the mirror.

I hated how vulnerable I was when I thought too much.

I grabbed the razor from the cabinet under the sink and without thinking I sunk it into my thighs, sliding it across. The blood oozed out of my skin and fell to the white tiled floor. It was such a contrast; the angelic white tiles and my dirty red blood. Blood is the only thing thats real that comes out of me, the only thing that is solid truth in my life: I cut - I bleed. The worst part about cutting is the fact that I feel no pain just numbness and emptiness.

I remembered the man's words from last night.

"... cut vertically they can't stitch that up..."

What was his name again?

I lifted the razor from my skin and turned it vertically, then continued to cut. When I was satisfied I threw the razor in the sink and I went into the shower. I turned the water on and I didn't even flinch at how cold it was. I just stood under it and watched the blood go down the drain. I wasn't always this bad, it was just some days when the world seemed a little more gloomy, the room felt a little more cold and my body looked a little more unpleasant.

I took a deep breath.

"It's all in your head."

-

I spend the rest of the day at home watching reruns of Friends and binging on crisps and ice cream. My cuts were stinging from the pressure and fabric of the lousy bandage but I ignored it.

When night came, I dressed myself to go clubbing again, only, as soon as I stepped out of my flat I didn't feel like it anymore so thats how I found myself walking around the streets of my tired old town. I mentally cursed myself for wearing the smallest jacket in the beginning of winter. Like who does that? I wrapped my pathetic jacket around me a little tighter and put the collars up and kept walking. I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing all I knew is that walking out at night was really nice and that I should do it more often. I passed by many strange looking buildings till I reached the rusted metal gates of the cemetery.

What does it feel like to be dead?

I walked through the little gap between the doors, the sound of my heels against the wet concrete being the only source of noise. It was all very eerie. I passed row after row of headstones; some were the traditional looking and others were crosses and statues. Some had rotting flowers against it, others had no names; maybe they were washed away, maybe they were never named. Ahead of me was a clearing, there was no grave but there was a person with a large bouquet of white flowers. I walked towards them, stepping on the grass so I wouldn't disturb their moment.

"You didn't deserve any of it. Not one bit." He sniffled, using the back of his hand to wipe his nose.

"If I could give them even the slightest bit of what they did to you, I would. You know that right?" He asked, not waiting for a reply. He sounded a lot like the guy from the pub last night.

"I loved you so much... no. I love you. I will always love you." He finished, he placed the bouquet of flowers on the ground beneath him.

"I hate them for not giving you a proper grave too." He said.

His hands found the beer bottle beside him and he picked it up and took a large sip before throwing it to the side.

"Hey." I blurted.

His eyes looked in my direction, after a moment recognition filled his eyes. "Partying with the dead people huh?" He laughed half heartedly motioning towards my choice of clothing.

"Who was that?" I asked bluntly.

"No one." He said.

I didn't push it. "Okay. How are you?"

"Zayn. I'm okay." He said. "You?"

"I'm okay. Well I've had better days but... yeah." I replied. "Do you... never mind." .

"Do I what?" He asked.

"This is going to sound really strange but do you want to come over to my place?"

a/n:

if you got that tfios reference at the end god bless you.

i want to clarify something. i have chosen shanina shaik to portray akira's facial features and exotic look. however akira's body does not look like a victoria's secret model. 

happy days

- ri