Back To You (JimxClaire)

Cuts

*fair warning! I don't want to rate my book Mature, since this is only one chapter I thought of, that's really on the Mature side. Read at your own caution.(it probably isn't even that bad. Just 'bout depression.)

Jim laid on his bed, wondering about Claire. She had been a bit off. Ever since he returned from the Darklands, he noticed that Claire had changed from her old, cheerful self, to something...

...new.

Her jeans were changed to black sweat pants. She wore a grey hoodie, and a white T-Shirt, instead of her pink T-Shirt and dark purple jacket. She usually had bags under her eyes, and her hair was never up, and adorned with her many colourful barrettes, like usual. Something was wrong.

Jim was going to stay over at Claire's house tonight. Her parents were gone, and her parents actually asked him to stay over. They were worried about her, and they thought that her greatest friend could help. That was weird... He thought they hated him. He decided to go a bit early, since he was pretty damn bored. He hadn't heard much from Toby, and Blinky said that there was nothing going on in Trollmarket, which was highly unusual.

It was sunset, when he grabbed his Vespa, and sped down to Claire's. He stepped up to the front door, and knocked. Claire's parents were already gone, and Claire didn't come answer the door. So, he decided the window was a better option. He scaled the Nuñez house, until he reached Claire's bedroom window. A note was taped onto the glass, and the window was propped open with an old binder. The note read:

Come in, and wait in my room. I'm tied up right now, but I'll be there soon. Just, don't leave my bedroom. ~Claire

So, Jim entered the room, and ripped off the note from the glass, and threw it in a garbage can in the corner of the room. He took a second glance in the garbage can, and saw tissues covered in blood. He didn't know why, but something told him that Claire was up to something. And, no, it wasn't red slushie fluid. It was, indeed, blood. He panicked.

He glanced outside the open door of Claire's bedroom, and the saw the bathroom door was open, with the light on. Jim heard Enrique from his own bedroom, and knew he was in there, and not with Claire.

Jim considered the note, and the very threatening last sentence. He wanted to go help her. He was worried what she was doing. But, he knew he shouldn't anger her. She did have a strong right... But, he could deal with that.

So, as the idiot in Jim came out, he quickly ran to the bathroom. He stood in the middle of the doorway, looking in the bathroom, and he was shocked at the sight. Claire was sitting on the bathroom floor, legs crossed, and facing the left wall. She had her left arm outstretched in front of her, with her palm facing up, and a bleeding cut on her wrist. The other hand had a razor blade, soaked with fresh blood. Her left wrist was adorned with many horizontal cuts. A few tissues were there, to help her clean up the mess of blood, that pooled from the cut on her arm.

When Claire got up to wash her wrist and the blade, she saw Jim. Jim ran back to her room, and Claire quickly cleaned up the mess. Claire ran towards her room, with rage brewing inside. She got in her bedroom, and slammed the door, which made Jim jump from where he was standing.

"Claire..."

"I've heard enough, Jim. Was it that hard to follow a stupid note?!" She yelled. She furiously punched Jim's right shoulder continuously, as he moved back, towards her bed. He didn't want to hurt her. His expression towards her read shock, and pain.

Jim stumbled, and fell onto Claire's bed. He laid there in shock, as Claire slapped him across the face, continuously.

Then, she just stopped.

Tears streamed down her face, as she fell to the ground. Jim sat up from the bed, confused. The girl who had just been brutally beating him, was now crying on the floor.

He moved her onto the bed, as she continued to cry. He tried to lift the sleeve of her hoodie, but she quickly jerked her arm away, from his reach, less tears streaming down her pale face.

"Let me see," Jim said, in his calming tone that Claire usually gave into, "I can help you. You just have to trust me."

Like always, Claire slowly gave in, letting Jim raise the sleeve of her hoodie, revealing 17 thin cuts, including the new and fresh one, that she had just carved. She gave him her other arm, with a guilty expression on her face, which made Jim panic over her mental stability and health. 23 were on that wrist.

"Wha- How long have you been doing this, Claire?"

"20 days. 2 per day..." She replied, in a tone of pure guilt, and pure depression.

"Claire..." Jim said, trying to calm not her, but himself as well, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Really, Jim. Would you tell everyone that you have been diagnosed with depression, and that you cut yourself daily?" Claire stated in a very sarcastic tone.

"That's not the point. Ugh... I wish I had found out sooner."

Jim wrapped his arms around Claire, and pulled her into a long lasting hug, trying to make Claire feel that she was loved. That people cared for her, and had they known about this, they would've wished for her never to do self harm. This only made her cry, into his chest.

After a few minutes, Jim asked a question which made Claire shudder.

"Claire. Did you ever attempt it?"

She knew what 'it' was. She did try, but if she told Jim, she thought he'd lose it. She slightly pulled away from him, just enough to look in his electric blue eyes.

Then, she nodded. 

Jim's eyes started to water. He couldn't believe it. His crush, and soon to be girlfriend, wanted to leave this cruel world. He embraced her tighter, trying so hard not to cry. Which, did not work one bit, as tears streamed down his face, praying that this was all just a dream.

Claire was now the one in shock. She moved her left hand up and down his back, trying to comfort him. When, she pulled away, she told him something that was beautiful, and meaningful to her crying friend.

"Jim, don't cry for me. Cry for anything, other than little ol' me. I'm like this because... Because I thought you were never coming back. And, when you came back, I couldn't stop myself anymore. I thought if you saw this, you'd be hurt. You'd leave me again. The pain of you being gone became so hard, I tried to take myself. But, the day you brought my brother back. The moment you knocked on the door, and I heard both of your voices, I stopped myself. I love you, Jim. I loved you so much, I couldn't bear to be here without you. I just couldn't shake youmm-"

Claire was cut off by Jim pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was passionate, and was filled with regret. Yet, it felt so good. He moved his hands to her hips, and she entwined her fingers into his soft, tangled hair. Their warm breaths brushing against each other's skin. 

When they pulled away, Claire drew her hands to cup his face, rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks. She looked in his electric blue eyes, as they shined in the pale moonlight, seeping through her window.

"So..."

"Jim, you don't have to ask. The answer is, yes, of course."

"That was one question. The other was if you'd like to be my girlfriend?"

"That's what I thought the first one was."

"Well, then. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. A bit better."

Jim got up to leave the room, and go crash on the couch. But, he felt a hand grasp his, and gently pull him back.

"Stay." Claire said. 

Of course, Jim decided to stay. He laid on the bed with Claire in his arms, wrapped in her many warm blankets. Claire cuddled right up to Jim, feeling his  warm breath against her neck. She listened to his heartbeat, as she slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.