Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
A/N: purely self indulgent. as previously mentioned on the last episode of dragon ball z, my partner of two years broke up with me. On top of that, I've been relapsing because I'm oh so smart, but enough of the sob story, Have this fic I coughed up during my Depressive episode
This isn't proofread because, well, my proofreader dumped me ðŸ˜
TW: Self-depricating thoughts, Self-harm, implied child abuse, just the sads all around
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Your life was shit. Pure unadulterated shit. It feels like from the moment you were born the universe was out to get you, like every circumstance was a "fuck you" to the face. Nothing ever went right for you. For starters, your parents were the absolute worse. They were constantly breathing down your neck about your grades and about how you present yourself in public, gotta protect their image they would say. From a young age you had to act older than you ever should have had to. Then in highschool everything just came crashing down on you, fear of the future, dread from the past... you finding out you were an outcast was just the cherry on top; it was one thing for you to be your family burden, but now you're also a blood sucking monster! Just your luck.
Life was a sea you were drowning in constantly, you felt as if there wasn't a day where water wasn't in your lungs and your mind wasn't constantly belittling you. It was tiring, exhausting, whatever else is synonymous. You just want it to stop. You wanted to feel something other than your emptiness, your constant dread of a lack of purpose.
Maybe that's when it started.
The first time was an accident. You were working on a school project and was cutting up some cardboard for a model, unfortunately you're a clutz and you accidentally dropped your cutter. You winced and grabbed your wrist which was now bleeding. Oddly enough though... you didn't really mind. You'd blamed the vampirism then but.. then you found that the cuts on your wrist went from accidental to on purpose.It was a dumb idea now that you think about it, you realise that now, maybe not then. You wanted to feel something, anything. The stinging sensation of the blade piercing your flesh was intoxicating, it hurt, but it hurt so comfortably. You found solace in it, no matter how morally grey it seemed.
But now, several years later, standing in front of your bathroom sink and staring down at the very same flesh you've abused all theseyears you can't help but loathe the scars you made. It's entirely your fault, you think, but that doesn't make you hate it any less. You stare and stare, each scar a reminder of how miserable you were, how pathetic you were.
It was a reminder of what life was like before her.
Larissa was a breath of fresh air in your miserable life. If you walked around with a rain cloud above your head she was the one holding and offering you an umbrella. She made your life a little bit more tolerable simply by being in it. Ever since meeting Larissa, you've noticed you've made some good changes to yourself. One of them being that you were almost half a year clean from cutting yourself!
..Almost.
Your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly, fighting back tears as you stare at two fresh scars you made the night before. That familiar feeling of dread filled you again, blinding yourself from seeing reason. Relapse is normal, Larissa once said, but you refused to tell her, you didn't want to disappoint her.
Then again, nobodys more disappointed in you than you are.
You're so lost in your self-loathing that you fail to hear the front door to your apartment open, Larissa had a spare key, you felt it was only right for her to have one by your 7th monthasarry. She calls out for you from the living room, but you're too busy hating the person in the mirror to realise that.It's only too late when you realise. The door to the bathroom clicked open, your angel's voice filled with such worry over your silence. You're like a puppy around Larissa, the moment she's back in your vicinity you're like a dog missing it's owner and suddenly you're all over her. Not tonight, though. Tonight you were quiet. Tonight you were staring at yourself and your scars, hating yourself like you always do.
It's only then you look up to stare at her, she's quick to be by your side her hands rough, a testament to her hardwork, yet so soft and gentle when handling you. She grabs onto your wrist and notices the fresh scar from the night before, her beautiful oceanic eyes painted with deep worry.
She takes you to your bedroom and sits you down. She's talking, but it all feels like it's underwater to you, you felt like the world and everything around you wasn't real at the moment, with nothing but the ringing in your ears distracting you. You try to make out what she's saying but ultimately give up. She's cleaning your wound, you notice, she's taken a first aid kit and she's making sure your cut is properly disinfected. Her touch is so soft and caring, it almost makes you tear up and cry. You stare at her, her eyes fixated on her task. You take a moment to admire her, her beautiful blonde hair, the way her brows furrow and her nose scrunches when she's focused.. for a moment, you're lifted from the tide and you can see clearly; you see her. Your Larissa, Your love.
When you realise those blue eyes are staring back at you, that's when you notice you seem to have regained your grasp on reality, she's looking at you with such warmth yet such worry, you feel bad for burdening her, but you've never been a burden, not to her, no. She adores you. She wishes you could see that.
"Are you okay?" Her words finally register, you blink at her, unsure what to say. Are you okay? You don't know yourself, honestly. She can see the conflict going on in your mind and hums, as if understanding something, her hand hovers over your cheek, a silent question in her eyes. You press your cheek into her palm and nuzzle into it, your eyes closing at the warmth and familiarity of her touch. Her eyes soften at that, her thumb caressing your cheek.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You shake your head, finding yourself unable to speak. She nods in understanding and the two of you stay there for a while, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.
Eventually, She moved you further onto the bed. Her heels were discarded somewhere across the room, her coat hanging against the headboard, you stare up at her as she situates you so that your head lay on your chest, the steady rise and fall of chest calming your nerves and anxiety that you didn't even realise was there.
Silence falls between you two again, but you don't mind at all. Her hand mindlessly draws shapes on your back with her fingers. You bury yourself in her embrace, her touch alone lifting away all your worries... well.. almost all of them. You felt the need to open up to her but you hesitate, that same old voice in the back of your head telling you not to bother her with your pathetic whines. But as you look up at her and you find her staring back at you with nothing but love and warmth.. you can't help but let the dam loose.
You lay there and open up about everything, how tired you've felt recently, how disgusting you feel especially when it comes to your scars. You want to cry, but you can't, so you just kept it all in until you couldn't anymore. As you rant, She listens to you intently, her eyes filled with nothing but understanding and care. When you end your small tangent, she brings your wrist up to her face and presses a kiss to it.
"Thank you for telling me," She whispers softly, her lips pressing against the skin of your wrist, you shiver at the contact, confused as to what she's doing. She continues to kiss your wrist.. no, your scars, you notice, and you watch in silence, your eyes curious yet filled with warmth.
She takes her time with each one, each kiss soft and meaningful. You could feel the pure love radiating off of her, it was overwhelming. It nearly made you cry, but what really did it were her next words."I know I can't do much to help you see yourself the way I see you." She mutters against your skin, her eyes reading into yours.
"But not once have I ever found you pathetic or disgusting, nor have I ever thought you were a burden." She pulls away from your wrist and caresses your cheek once again, her gaze filled with sincerity. You listen to her, clinging onto each word, the familiar feeling of warmth from her comfort already lifting the weigh on your shoulders.
"And most of all," She grabs your wrist with her free hand, her fingers gliding across the skin. "These scars... while the way they got there is.. unconventional. They're a testament to how resilient you are, how resilient you have been."
"I will never view them as disgusting, because despite everything, they still make up the person that you are, and I love you all the same. And I'll continue to do so, For as long as you'll have me."
..
Tears sting your eyes, but not in a bad way, never in a bad way with Larissa. Your heart was swelling with such gratitude and love for the woman before you. You can't help but stammer like an idiot, your tears spilling down your cheek. It was an embarrassing sight, you're sure of it, but not to her, she wipes away every tear wordlessly, no judgement or mockery in her eyes. Just pure unfiltered love, love you never recieved growing up, love you needed all this time, love you deserved, love she offered.
As you fall asleep that night with her arms wrapped around you and the steady beating of her heart lulling you to sleep, you come to the conclusion that living isn't so bad, as long as you had your Larissa.