Metanoia.「skephalo」

23 | Trust.

'Shit, only two left?'

Zak frowned looking at the lasts pills inside the almost empty oranges containers, which were inside the mysterious black box laying on the with sink of the foggy bathroom.

'If Dream won't help me anymore, I gotta find another dealer quickly. And some fucking money.' he anxiously thought, bringing the hand full of pills to his open mouth and chugging some water down with them. 'But there's no way I'm gonna stop taking them.'

He hated how easily his mood was influenced and how fast it would change, jumping from one opposite to the other out of nowhere, and those pills actually helped him to manage his anxiety, panic and emotions better, they sure had their cons, but Zak was too closed minded to care about those.

The shiny razor blades from inside the box caught the short boy attention, provoking to his body to shiver.
For the whole duration of the shower, he got overwhelmed with intrusive thoughts, and mostly, by self-harm desires and intentions. But somehow, he closed the box, feeling slightly proud for withstanding the need of hurting himself for the second day in a row, he was slowly making some progress.

A muffled, soft knock came from the bathroom door besides him, breaking the silence.

"Zak? Is everything okay in there?" Darryl muffled voice asked, from the other side of the door.

The short boy boggled and instinctively grabbed the black box, abruptly tucking it under the sink, sticking it in the between of the wall and the tube of the drain: the perfect hiding spot.

"Yes, everything's okay!" Zak replied getting up and opening the door only after calming himself down with a deep breath. "but... I might need your help to medicate my wounds. Again." he admitted, looking at the ground with discomfort.

Darryl smiled reassuringly at him and tilted his head to the side, while the short boy studied the Senior unusual appearance, realizing only then he wearing a white T-shirt, exposing his left arm still covered by the same cut black sleeve; it was something pleasantly new for Zak. The fact Darryl trusted him enough to expose himself like that, made him feel a little happier.

He would be happier if the Senior's song wouldn't play in his head everytime he looked at him, though.

"Don't worry little muffin, your personal nurse is here to help." he jokingly replied, messing his hair up and chuckling slightly.

Zak smiled and opened the door wide letting the older enter the bathroom, sitting then on the toilet and waiting for him to take the medicaments from the drawer.
With his hands now occupied with bandages and such, Darryl sat down beside the short boy on the edge of the small bathtub, starting to gently apply some cream on the wound on Zak's cheekbone, making him flinch lightly.

"It's healing really well, in a pair of days it'll be almost invisible." he informed, finishing up. "Lift up your hoodie, please." he requested in almost a whisper, while preparing some new gauzes.

"Really?" the Junior replied, following his instructions. "It's gonna leave a scar tho, right..?"

"That's inevitable, little muffin." he answered, now carefully medicating the wound on his stomach. "I'm sorry about it, but I promise you that it will fade away over time." he reassured, unable to stop his eyes from looking at Zak's waist.

'Oh my goodness, how can he be so thin? And where does he find all this energies? Gosh, I have to help him at all costs.' Darryl anxiously thought, concerned on the short boy's physical condition that seemed worse than last time, but tried his very best to mask it up.

"I hope you're right, I don't want an ugly ass scar on my face to remember me about him." the short boy blurted out, frowning at the wall just a feet from him that he was staring at for the whole talk.