Yes, My Master

Chapter 9

TW: This chapter has a lot of depression, including suicide attempts and cutting.

Kakarott elegantly sipped his cup of tea, napkin in his lap, and laid his cup down for---

No. It didn't go that way at all.

He was actually sitting very glumly, slumped down on the plush chair, holding Oolong tea in his shaking hands. He was really going crazy now. Vegeta's presence was haunting him, he had called out for him a few times on the first days, but he soon learned that the older Saiyan wasn't coming back.

He was holding in his tears now. His three servants had been really worried and suspicious about him crying so much over a simple Butler. Sure it was sad, but no Prince would ever be this emotional. He would be expected to replace him after a week. It had been almost two.

"Vegeta..." His hands shook so hard that the cup in his hands spilled tea all over the carpet, he didn't even care. He needed his butler. He didn't even know where he was.

Then the tears came again, and Kakarott threw his cup onto the floor, smashing it with his heeled boots. He didn't let a sound escape from his lips. He just left a dark stain on the tile and ran upstairs, crying for the hundredth time for a week.

It was pathetic too, though, because he knew that Vegeta wasn't coming back, he knew that Vegeta didn't love him, and he knew that Vegeta probably didn't care about him----but he still loved him. What kind of Prince falls madly in love with their butler?

"Vegeta, fuck, will you at least come back and fucking TELL ME YOU DONT WANT ME!?" He screamed, thrashing wildly on his bed. His temper tantrum made Yamcha knock wildly at the door and ask if Kakarott was alright. He said yes, obviously lying, and Yamcha just left him.

He pulled at his hair and fell onto the floor. He felt so hurt and so angry, he needed something to take his mind off of it or else he was going to go crazy. Hesitantly, he walked into the bathroom and grabbed the small razor sitting on the side of the tub, used for slight trimming of his tail. He looked down. Am I really going to do this? He remembered Vegeta , and immediately thought, Oh yes I am. I can't stand this anymore.

He slowly slid the razor across his left wrist, squinting in pain but also feeling relieved at the same time. He slid it across four times before he put it down. He felt the blood trickling out onto his arm, but it didn't bother him in the slightest.

****

He awoke with tired eyes; he wiped them with his hands, vision slightly blurry from his slumber. He felt like he had slept for a thousand years. As he lifted his body up, he could feel the affects of fatigue and gravity pulling him back down, but somehow he managed to stay up. He suddenly felt something rustling next to him; he turned his head and saw a small figure crying next to him, a blonde wearing battle armor, curled up in a fetal position.