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Anti stared into the distance, the warm water of the shower beating down against his clothes that he didn't bother to take off, hand shaking from where it held an almost crush beer can. Arms stained with blood.
His breath came out in ragged huffs, breathing in the dark and exhaling the noises, the sound, the world.
Then, he heard the familar German accent of the stomping of boots on stairs, he chugged the last bit of his beer, crushing the can and feeling the cool alcohol drip down his chin before being ran off by warm water.
The bathroom door opened, the shower curtain yanked back and the dimmer light turned on.
Henrik sighed, heavily, dissapointment leaking with every breath.
"Kill him," Antis head sung, louder and louder. "Hit him and break him and make him bleed-"
"Theres blood," Antis voice was shakey, strained. "My own, I think,"
Henrik nodded, "Take off your shirt, I'll help you clean up,"
Henrik had brought out a stool, standing on it as he helped scrub Anti clean, his long agile fingers scrubbing the red blood from his green scalp, then more gently, the blood from his open wounds, scattering his chest and arms and legs.
He wrapped Anti in a towel, kissing his forehead. "Can you get dressed? Or do I need to help?"
Anti didn't hear him, staring at him with a strangling glare, Henrik only sighed, picking up the dismissed beer cans in the bottom of the shower, throwing them away before grabbing preoxide and bandages, helping his lover.
"Can you hear me yet?"
No response, Henrik helped him into clothed and sat on the bed, holding his lover in his arms.
Antis fingers twitched, the urge to hurt somebody strong, eventually he settled with hands in his hair, pulling and tugging and-
"I'm going to get you help,"
The soft accented voice finally broke through Antis head, he turned around, looking at him with utter confusion.
"You can't keep doing this Anti, not to mention how skinny you are...and the things you hear and see-" Anti sniffled, but only glared, not cried, even when his eyes burned.
"I thought you loved me, thought you would help me,"
"I am-"
"You're shipping me off to a loney bin like any other prick who gets to know me!" Antis voice was loud but strained, pain leaking out.
"Anti-"
"Fuck you,"
"Anti, love,"
"Fuck off!"
Eventually, Henrik did.
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"FUCKOFF!" A bang, "FUCKOFFFUCKOFF-" He repeated those words over and over, screaming into his legs, curled into a shaking ball on the ground.
Henrik was the only person he ever loved, but he left. Oh well, whatever.
He missed the outside world, beer in the shower and ciggerates in bed.
He missed loving and being loved.
He missed being treated like anything else than a rapid dog to be drugged up when hes scared.
Thats all he was, scared, but when that happened he got drugged up and discarded, left to be fixed.
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