« self harming levi x reader »
[ warning! this oneshot contains topics of self harm and rape. please proceed at your own risk. ]
THERE WAS ONE particular night that I couldn't quite forget. No matter how long it took place, it still gave me the chills whenever it crossed my mind on a regular day - at school during class, lunch breaks on the rooftops, maybe even in the shower if I didn't have anything else to think about in the morning before I head downstairs for breakfast. I think I finally understand what the word 'unforgettable' means, because the image of Levi's arms covered with cuts that soaked his clothes still haunted me until this very moment.
It wasn't that I didn't think of the possibilities too much, but it was hard to tell what was going on his mind all the time. For every chance I get to look at his eyes, it felt as if there was a wall that stood between us. It blinded me of the sight behind it, and I slowly, foolishly fell for the facade he made. A simple, stoic expression. That's all it took. I always thought it was easy to do that; to fake how you felt. But now I wasn't sure. In fact, what were the things I was sure of?
I remember him lying in his bathtub as if being submerged in water was the most natural thing in the world. His eyes were lifeless, but he was alive. He looked strangely calm even after doing this to himself that it scared me. Blood was everywhere, and so much was coming out through every slit of his self-inflicted wounds that the water had managed to turn into the faintest tint of crimson.
He then asked me something. "Have you ever wished you were born unable to feel anything?" His voice was still silvery and clear despite the situation he was in. Why was that? Was what I asked myself after the incident took place at night. Why didn't he cry, or even shed a single tear? I could never understand and that made me feel a whirlpool of negative emotions all at once. I felt embarrassed, frustrated, sad, and unworthy. To think I was the person everybody knew to know everything about him? I sure wasn't aware of any of this. Any of him.
I knew he had problems in life. He had a father who fancied the flesh of his own son and a mother, who seemed to cut herself from the remaining ties connecting her to the family she once loved so much. It was sick. His father was sick and his mother was an asshole. Everybody in his life came off as people who subtly walked away when everything started going haywire for Levi, and left him all alone.
"I did," was my pathetic reply after a painful amount of silence. "But I took it back when I met you." I was far too scared to say anything more than that.
"(Y/N)..." Levi closed his eyes, and I start to panic. He wasn't going to die, right? "Get me out of here."
His father wasn't coming home for a few days, which meant Levi was by himself as well. If I hadn't been so stubborn to pay him a visit, I wouldn't have the disturbing memory engraved at the back of my head that never fails to cross my mind with every time my eyes land on him. At that moment I was glad he did this to himself right after I selfishly declared my intrusion to his house at three in the morning. I felt the happiest than I had ever been in my life, because there was still another chance.
His body was cold to the touch. The sensation of his wet body pressed against mine was something I found hard to fully wrap my head around despite how many times I look back on it. It wasn't even remotely close with desire or lust, but rather a happy type of melancholy. Saudade. It was a mellow kind of happiness because I was able to see Levi like this - not bruised or sad; open. He was the kind of person who never lets anyone take care of him, so being able to at least dab a sterilized cotton ball on one of his cuts warmed my heart, and I was sure that even for a little bit, it warmed his as well.
