{SELF HARM WARNING}
If things like self harm and mentions to depressive mentality trigger you or make you uncomfortable then skip this chapter
(Y/n's POV)
The knot in my stomach twisted tighter. I couldn't stay away anymore. I walked to my desk, catching a glimpse of my strained face in the reflection of my computer screen, and sat. I looked around for a moment, making sure my door was closed and that I had what I needed. I reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a red box. Inside was a piece of plastic. Sharp to one edge, ending in a point, and big enough to grasp. My shaking fingers gripped onto the plastic. I rolled up my sleeve. The movements of the plastic against my skin started slow but soon grew to a rapid speed. I heard the familiar sound of my skin ripping and felt the familiar burn against my arm. My bottom lip was clamped tightly between my teeth. I had no more room. I packed the plastic back up into the box and hid it away. I sat, numbly staring into oblivion. After a moment I brought my arm back into the light. My skin was peeled in straight lines, blood trickling from most of them. I drew in a sharp breath before rising to go to the bathroom. I wet a washcloth and gently dabbed and wiped at my skin. When I once again reached my room, I fell to my bed. I stared into the ceiling.
I stared for an hour.
I rose slowly and realized the amount of time that had passed. Hesitantly looking to my sleeve, I rolled it up to reveal a sight I dreaded. Pink lines were defined all across my skin. My fingers flowed across the puffy marks. I stared at them, as if I was caught in a trance. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. It wasn't until I heard a gasp that I looked up. I quickly threw my arm into my lap and looked up. It was Emerson. His face was painted in shock. We stared at each other. No matter how hard I tried to play it off like I was fine, my eyes and increased breathing gave it away. Before I could speak, Emerson's voice broke the atmosphere. "Let me see. Now." I said nothing and stared at my lap. I felt the bed dip beside me and Emerson's gentle hands grab my arm. I closed my eyes in shame as I no longer wanted to see the pain that was dripping from his face. "Why?" I didn't answer. He squeezed my hand. "Y/f/n y/l/n answer me." I looked at him. "Because I deserve it." I replied, my voice nearly inaudible. He took my hands in his and gave me a stare I couldn't rip myself from. "I've never heard a more incorrect statement in my life. The pain you consume and throw yourself through isn't what you deserve and it never has been. You deserve the world. You deserve to live like a queen, to be treated like one," one of his hands delicately caressed my cheek. "You deserve it all, my love." He was silent for a moment, continuing to hold my attention. "If only you could see what I see." He whispered. "You think too highly of me, em.." "once again, love, you're wrong." His face inched closer to mine. "You're the most amazing creature to ever walk this planet and I will not rest until you realize that too." Tears slipped down my cheeks. "I love you Emerson." "I love you too y/n." I pressed my lips to his and felt a wave of passion wash over me. After a moment he pulled away. "Now, my love, we need to fix you up." I smiled weakly and complied.
As he bandaged up my arm, I watched his face, his hands, his whole being. The pain I saw in his eyes, the pain I heard in his voice, the pain that reflected in his touch was not one I ever wanted to see again. Never again. So I promised him. Never again.
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A/n
If you are fighting with self harm or suicidal thoughts or any form of mental disorder then tell someone. I know that it may seem like no one is there, because I feel the same way. But there is always someone. Hell, private message me if you have no one else to talk to. I'm always an open ear.
748 words
-xoxo Golden_Trash_Can
