(Seriously guys, this is the LAST warning before crap goes down.)
Get out.
Get out.
Get out.
Get out.
Get out.
Get out.
My hand finds it way to the scar that connects metal and flesh. I trace the line slowly, using the mirror as a guide. Something in my brain tells me to dig my fingers in and get it over with but I do not listen.
I want it gone.
My eyes flicker up towards my own in the mirror, the color darker and the bags deeper than I remember. The skin around them is irritated and red, as if I had been crying, but it's only the lack of sleep. At least that's what I tell myself.
I flip the knife twice in my hand, the leather cool and soft. I climb up and sit on the counter, my feet in the sink, and level the knife with my collarbone, the tip aimed at the joint.
The pain is dull at first, like the others, but I force it deeper, until I hit where metal replaces my bone. I still haven't figured out how I am going to take out the subducted parts, like the three ribs and the shoulder blade, but I intend to take care of it when I get there.
I hesitate for a moment before moving the blade downward, the flesh tough, worn after too many years of use. I try and keep against the appendage but I give up after spots start shooting through my sight.
The knife slips out of my hand and clatters into the sink. My hand shakes as I reach down to continue. I have to get this off. I have to get him out of me. The precise cuts turn to nervous slashes. Every sound is someone opening my door. Every heartbeat is a footstep in the hall.
My hands are cold and the tips are stained a pale red. I pause, unable to focus on anything. The mirror is covered in frost and I can see my breath. All I can understand is the blood making pretty little reflective pools on the tile.
Metal hands graze my neck, cold breath slips past my shoulder.
"Shh..." He whispers. "Just a little while longer and you'll be gone."
I can't make out my hands, everything is a pale shade of white. He slips his ice under my ribs and down my throat. Pleasant frost hangs in the air. Snowflakes flutter around us like fairies on broken wings.
YOU ARE READING
An Attempt at Sunshine (Winter Soldier) (Marvel)
Fanfiction[I keep seeing ghosts. They whisper and scream and cry and I do not understand. I think I am a ghost too.] My debut fanfic! How exciting! Just a little Marvel for you my dears- have fun! NOTE: PLEASE PLEASE read the dates before each section!!!! Th...
