Too Bad

admit

I bit my lip and noticed that he busted my lip. Damn. I had to hold back my smirk.

I could tell everyone was disgusted by what he said and did. I just got in my car and drove away.

I drove back home. But Jason wasn't there. The door was locked and I didn't have a key. I huffed and sat on the porch and waited.

After what felt like forever Jason finally got back with bags of groceries. He looked at me confused for a second.

"What happened?" He sighed as he unlocked the door. I followed him inside.

"Jordan punched me." I answered.

He started putting everything in the fridge and cabinets.

"So in other words, I need to go beat someone's ass?"

"I wish. But I don't want you getting in trouble." He just smiled. He held my hips.

"Do you mind helping me out with cooking?"

"Of course not."

He kissed me then let go. I set my jacket down in my room and went back into the kitchen.

"What are we making?" I asked.

"Ribollita." He answered. I looked at the ingredients.

"In other words... Bread soup. We're making bread soup."

"A good portion of it is bread." He chuckled.

We then started. I was cutting up carrots while he was cutting up peppers. He looked over at me and his eyes widened.

"Put down the knife." His voice was much more stern. I put down the knife and turned to him confused. "What the fuck is that on your wrist?"

My heart dropped. He grabbed my wrists and looked at the cuts.

"When did you do this!?" I looked down.

"I did them last night."

"Are you trying to kill yourself!?"

"No! No I'm not!" I yanked my arms away.

"Why the fuck are you cutting yourself then!? Tell me!"

"No! I can't! You'll get mad!" He took a few deep breaths.

"Chris, just tell me. I won't get mad. I swear."

I looked at him then went straight to my room. I sat on my floor against the wall in egg position. Debating on what to say. Honestly... It'd be easier to just tell him I'm suicidal. But I can't do that. I can't lie about something like that.

He ran into my room following me too. He looked at me and sighed a little before sitting next to me.

"Please Chris. Talk to me."

"You'll be disappointed and upset with me. And even more worried."

"Just tell me why you cut yourself. Get it off your chest."

"I did it for pleasure." I admitted. "I think I've been through it so much... That I'm starting to gain sexual satisfaction through pain."

"So you're a masochist?"

I nodded my head yes and started to cry. He held me in his arms.

"I'm scared Jason."

"It's gonna be okay. We'll get you to see a therapi-"

"No! I don't want to see a therapist!" I cut him off.

"Chris..."

"Please. I already have enough trouble talking to you about things." I pleaded. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to even tell you that I did it for pleasure? I was planning on just telling you that I'm suicidal cause I thought it'd be better."

"I just want to make sure you're safe. I know it's hard to talk about things. But please."

"It's my decision Jason. I have a choice to go to therapy. And I choose not to. I get that this is bad. That this is dangerous. But I can't. I just can't. You don't understand."

I could tell he didn't know what else to say. So he just held me tighter.