WARNINGS: THIS POST CONTAINS TRIGGERING CONTENT. SUCH AS SELF HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SOME OTHER TRIGGERIG CONTENT. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE.
Other than that, it's pretty much fluff😁
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Ofcourse today wasn't your day. It never was your day. The urge to cut became stronger again. You seemed tk fuck everything up. It simply wasn't the way you wanted it to be.
Then again, when was it ever?
-
Brendon had been looking forward to see you again. It had been a while, since he had to leave for tour, and he was really excited. He basically hopped towards your apartment and let himself in. Him havig a spare key and all. He was standing right in front of your door when he heard crying..
He heard you crying. He heard you cussing. Cussing at yourself. Cussing at the world. But worst of all, he heard those words; "I'm better off dead."
And that's what triggered him to unlock your door, push it open before it was even unlocked and run towards your bedroom.
-
There you were. Sitting on the edge of the bed, razor in your hands. More than a few red lines horizontally on your wrists. The urge had been too strong, it still was. But not only the urge to cut horizontally was strong.. You'd rather do it vertically.. "I'm better off dead." Were the words from your mouth. You hoped the words had been quieter than they really were. Stupid sobs. Why can't they die down. "I'm a fuckig fai-" "DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT!" Came the booming voice of your boyfriend, "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TO CONTINUE WITH WHATEVER IS GOING ON IN YOUR HEAD!" And with a few steps he was sitting next to you. The razor was forcefully being taken from you as you kept looking at Brendon with wide, rather scared, (E/C) eyes.
It all seemed to go so slow yet so fast.
First you were sitting alone, ready to off yourself and now you're being hugged by your loving boyfriend who'd come back earlier than expected. "B.. Bren..?" You whispered in his chest, hesitant to hug back, "It's me baby girl, fuck.. I don't ever want to come home to you like this again," he muttered in your hair.
-
"Why?" He asked a few minutes later. You'd calmed down and he had been comforting you the past 30 minutes. "Why I did this? Why I wanted to off myself?" You began quietly, "I'm worthless. I'm a failure. I keep on fucking things up. I just.." you ended with an exhausted sigh. You couldn't finish. Not with him so near.
"Oh baby girl.." you heard him sigh above you, "You aren't any of these things. And what about me huh? Were you really that selfish?!" His tone rose again the slightest bit, but you noticed. "Never, Beebo, never, I just.. I wanted.. I needed.. I.." you began stuttering because honestly? You'd forgotten about him that moment. You just assumed he'd be okay without you. Maybe he'd shed a few tears but he'd find a nice girl again. He is handsome. He is perfect.. Unlike you. "It's not okay, (Y/N), I'm not gonna say it is. I'm also not gonna tell it's going to be okay, because I know you won't believe me if I do.
"But (Y/N).. I need you to pick up this razor.. Keep it.. Come to me when you feel like cutting, roll up my sleeve-" You couldn't believe it, "Place the razor on my skin," "Bren-" "And cut me as many times as you would cut yourself." You began to tear up. Why? Why would he ask such a thing of you, "I can't, Brendon, I can't hurt you like that," you muttered while shaking your head fiercely and letting a few tears fall, "Why can't you? You can hurt yourself like that.." he muttered softly and cupped your cheeks to wipe away the tears with the pads of his thumbs.
Then it hit you.
You were already hurting him by doing that to yourself..
You understood now
