Dying Pulse - Blueskwite

Chapter One

Warnings: referenced self harm, bad self talk, mentions of depression and anxiety

Tyler's pov

I was super excited to see my friends for the first time in person.

I couldn't contain my eagerness even on the plane.

I looked down at my left wrist, at the black heart etched there.

"I hope I meet my soul mate today" I thought.

Brandon, I hope it's Brandon.

~~~~~

I got off the plane and texted Anï that I was here.

"Tyler!!! Over here!" A high pitched voice called.

I turned to see Anï waving at me, tail wagging like crazy, with Brandon standing next to her looking at his phone.

My heart skipped a beat.

I walked over to them.

"Hey guys-" Was all I was able to get out before Anï tackle hugged me.

"Oof, hi Anï." I said, patting her on the back lightly.

I wrapped my wings around her as she hugged me.

I pulled away after a bit and smiled behind my mask.

"Hehe, hi." She giggled.

"Jack should be here soon." Brandon remarked.

My fins drooped a bit.

"Yo, you even gonna acknowledge me?" I asked.

He looked up, locking eyes with me.

This is it, this is it, this is-

I felt a warmth shudder through my body and my wrist started to pulse.

He looked at me weird, "What?"

My fins, which were previously fanned, dropped completely.

I glanced at his wrist, which still had a black heart on it.

I turned around and shoved my hands in my pockets, trying not to cry.

"I, I uh, gotta use the bathroom." I mumbled before running off.

I got to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall, trying to keep my sobs to a minimum.

I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes.

"Pathetic, you thought he'd ever love you?"

I sniffled, pulling my mask down so it wouldn't get wet.

My wings curled tightly around my shoulders, cradling me almost.

I could feel my soul mark still warm on my wrist, a constant reminder of rejection.

I often thought about it, the rare occurrence of one sided soul marks.

I'm just unlovable, no one wants me.

I rubbed at my already red eyes, willing them to stop tearing up.

I looked down at my arms, beginning to regret wearing a t-shirt.

You could faintly see the marks, but they were still there.

I scratched at them, not sure whether I wanted them to go away, or to come back.

I picked at a scab on my arm, but it was to healed to bleed.

I had stopped crying, settling for a depressed numbness.

I got up and dusted myself off, wiping my face one more time before pulling my mask back up and fixing my glasses.

I walked as casually as I could out of the bathroom and started to head back to the group.

~~~

Rewrote! It's pretty similar because it doesn't really contribute to the ships much, just rearranged some things and changed some names

~ ruby