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𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
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! TW ! Suicidal thoughts
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He sat down on his bed, both arms resting on his legs and his phone was in between them, mindlessly scrolling through the apps on his phone. His hair was covering half of his face, just as he liked it at this moment, hidden, not having to show his emotions. He wasn't sure why he snapped just now and felt like you didn't deserve the rude attitude he gave to you, but he couldn't help but feel like you pitied him. It was just some simple tickling, he thought. He didn't want you to apologise for having fun. He didn't want you to feel like you couldn't do certain things to him. ''Aaah,'' he groaned when he let him fall backwards onto his bed, eyes closed and arms resting above his head.
It was still a little difficult for him to breathe and the slight pain in his chest hadn't gone away. He took a deep breath, a sharp pain shot through his lungs like knives, but he was able to pick up the pain by hissing and clenching his jaw. ''Aha... fuck this,'' he cursed under his breath as he allowed himself to cry again. Crying to ease the pain he was feeling in his chest and mind, it all hurt. His illness had opened the door for more thoughts he tried so hard to put away. He wanted to bury them, the thoughts, he didn't want to think about any of the negative things. He knew his mind was trying to push him to think about things he was so afraid to think of.
Death.
The tears dripped down onto the soft fabric of his pillow, wetting some strands of his smooth and soft thick black hair. He sobbed quietly, alone in his room, allowing the darkness to get into his mind. He allowed it to beat him up about every single little thing that was going on. He allowed his mind to go crazy about himself— his self-worth, his life, his job... really, everything. He allowed his mind to beat him up about you, about how he didn't deserve you and about how you would be better off without him. He didn't care anymore.
He felt like he was going to pass away soon anyway. He said it was a gut feeling after all.
The voices in his head told him all sorts of things, blocking any way of self-love or self-appreciation to shine through. They told him you'd be better off without him, he was a burden, they said. His illness was bothersome and too much to handle, and you already had a lot of troubles on your plate. The voice told him he made you feel worse, it made him feel like his illness was taking a toll on your feelings and it would only add more pain in your life. It told him you'd be free of at least one problem if he simply wasn't around anymore. He wouldn't be there to remind you how you could lose your best friend, you wouldn't have that anxious thought at the back of your head anymore. Azami felt like he made the situation worse, he couldn't help you and he only added more drama to your feelings. More things to overthink when he was supposed to be there for you.
