𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Harm • Conor

Yo yo.
This was requested by @AnotherConorMayniac so I hope you like it!
WARNING: SENSITIVE CONTENTTTTT
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Y/n POV

"A little unsteady"

I pull the blade along my wrist and feel tears sting my eyes. I drop the bloody razor into the sink and fall to the floor, crying like I've never before.
It's worse than ever.

My mind.
Someone help.

I clutch onto my bleeding wrist with my free hand, crying harder at the blood which effortlessly pours out of me. Fuck.

"Hold, hold on, hold onto me"

There's no one. No one here to free me from my own mind. Please.

It'll pass - I tell myself. I've thought that for years. I'm on the brim of giving up.

I crawl along the floor - my legs to shaky to hold my body - and grab onto one of the towels, pressing it against my wrist.

"Stop" I sob. "Please stop"

I glance back at my wrist and find myself almost throwing up. Shit. Why has it come to this?

"If you love me, don't let go"

I lean back against the door, stumbling up from the floor and grabbing the sink for help. I whine in pain, looking at myself in the mirror and crying more.

"Help" I cry, allowing my tears to drop down into the sink and trickle down the drain.

Suddenly the sounds of laughter, chatting and footsteps fill the flat. My breathing quickens and my heart races. But I can't move. My body is frozen.

"Y/n?" Conor calls through the flat and my body shakes twice as worse.

I quickly spin to grab onto the door handle but I'm too late, it's pushed open from the other side and I fall backwards onto the floor.
Conor gasps and quickly grabs onto me, before momentarily freezing with a face of pure shock.

"I'm sorry" I cover my face, probably smearing blood all over my cheeks.

"Y/n" He says in shock, lightly giving me hand from my face and looking at my cut wrist. "W-What have you done?" He stutters and I curl into a ball.

He stands up and checks the sink, his face practically draining of all colour as he spots the bloody razor and towel next to it.

"Conor-" I start but he quickly picks me up from the floor, running me into the kitchen and sitting me down onto the counter.

He grabs another towel and presses it to my wrist, the sounds of other people (presumably Jack or something) gasping at the scene.

"Why'd you do this?" He whispers, looking up at me with glossy eyes.

"I-I can't do this" I choke.

"Yes you can" He cups my face, leaning his forehead against mine. "I love you so fucking much Y/n"

I bury my head into the crook of his neck, wrapping my one arm around his neck and crying onto his top.

"Hold onto me, 'cause I'm a little unsteady"

"You need to talk to me, baby" He says and I nod.

I don't want to go. I won't let my mind take over.

"I promise" I whisper.

"I love you"