Dylmas/Newtmas One-Shots

Newtmas - Bad Blood

So, so, so sorry for not updating in ages! I really just couldn't be bothered to write . . . but I'm trying :/
Based on: Bad Blood by Bastille
This is another one of LoverofNewtmas ideas, so thank you! I hope you like it!
Warning: Triggers may be present (you know the drill) ;)

3rd Person POV

Bleep, bleep, bleep!

Newt's alarm blasted through the empty silence that consumed him. Groaning, he rolled over, hitting the alarm to turn it off.

It was Monday. Which only meant one thing . . .

Today, he would have to go to see his therapist. Not that Newt minded looking at his therapist, he was a very attractive guy, it was just that Newt hated therapy.

With a passion.

But he had no choice in going. Not if he wanted to get better.

Apparently, he was doing really well. During his last session, Thomas had told him that he had come along way since when they'd first met. Not that Newt agreed.

In Newt's mind, he was practically still the same, messed up, depressed, teenager that he was a year ago.

He still smoked. Still hated life, at the most of times. He still felt alone. And he still lay awake, at 4 in the morning, wondering where it all went wrong.

He didn't even know why he was still alive!

Newt would have been very happy dying that lonely night, last year. The night when his whole life had changed . . .

*flashback*

A half empty bottle of Vodka lay in the tub, slowly losing it's contents.

A crimson razor left discarded by the drain, blood dripping down and mixing with the water from above.

And a boy.

A teenage boy, sat, hunched over. His head was buried into his knees as the cold water crashed down onto his body. His arms were scattered with fresh cuts, along with his thighs, his stomach, even his hips. Blood trailed down his skin, like the lonely raindrops you find on a window pane after a storm.