Only Know You Love Him When You Let Him Go

Three [ch. 3]

TRIGGER WARNING!!
This chapter contains descriptive self-harm. The scene is italicised so it is easier to scroll past. Be safe loves!

Also, big thanks to talking-bout-you-not-to-you on Tumblr, they have been a huge help for me, with writing and with ideas, even when they don't know I'm getting ideas xD Go show them some love!

John wakes up in the morning already knowing he was either going to love today or hate it. He had decided the night before he was going to try and fix everything with Alexander. He wanted everything to go back to normal. Wanted him back. He missed holding him. He missed being able to kiss and hug him.

This is what got him through the first part of his morning, getting him out of bed and ready. The hope he would get him back got him to go to his dorm. He took a deep breath outside of the dorm. He carefully opened the door, heart shattering at what he noticed almost immediately.

Thomas fucking Jefferson had his arms wrapped around Alexander protectively, Alexander cuddled into him and looking, calm. Happy. He looked so happy. With tears threatening to spill he turned around and ran out of the room, slamming the door when he left the room.

Thomas awoke to his door being slammed, sitting up in bed. When he did so, he heard Alexander protesting, latching onto his arm.

"Nuuu don't get up." He chuckled and laid back down, wrapping his arms around the small immigrant. It only took a few minutes for them both to fall asleep again.

»»————- ————-««

Almost as soon as he closed the door to his dorm, John broke down. He couldn't hold the tears back any longer. He fell to the floor, sobbing. He stayed like that until he heard James speak to him.

"You alright?" He looked up, his face red and puffy.

"What the hell do you think? You never thought to mention that Alexander's been sleeping with Jeffershit?!" He watched as James' face flashed with confusion, almost immediately going back to a neutral expression.

"It doesn't matter what he does now. You're the one who left him." He scoffed. "Literally and figuratively."

John had no response to that. He only stood and walked to the bathroom, locking the door and leaning against the door while sitting on the floor. He continued to sob, He looked at where he kept his razor, thinking. Was this really worth it?

He thought for a few minutes before deciding it was.

John made a move to open the cupboard door that leads to where his razor was kept. 'Shouldn't be that hard, should it? You won't be missed. Alex has moved on.' He kept telling himself this as he reached into the cupboard and gripped the handle of his razor.

'Just do it already. You're stupid if you think you can get Alex back. Don't be such a coward.' Slowly drawing his hand out of the cupboard, John noticed the shiny metal of the razor. "Here we go."

Moving his hand towards it he felt the cold metal on his wrist. 'Do it you bastard!' With that thought, he cut open his wrist. Feeling the blood spilling out, he kept on going.

'Keep going, you worthless piece of shit. No one wants you. You're going to be alone all your life.' Slowly sliding up the wall, John moved towards the sink. 'This is what your life has become. Look at you, standing in the bathroom by yourself, feeling sorry for yourself, self-harming. Be happy for Alexander, at least he's not tied down to someone as pathetic as you.

He's got Jefferson as his fuck-buddy and James, Laf and Herc as his friends, tied around his tiny finger. He's built a new life, he doesn't need you anymore. No one does. Just kill yourself.' These thoughts were welling up in John's head as he just stared at himself in the mirror.