I Promise I'll Stop: For silverflyer

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I Promise I'll Stop

For silverflyer

WARNING: this does have actions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts. If this will affect you badly please don't read! I don't want any of you to get hurt!

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You are both 16

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You stared at a special floor board in your room. You haven't opened it in two days, but it was driving you crazy. You were trying to stop something very bad that you did on a daily basis.

Cutting.

Nobody knew your secret. Not even your beloved boyfriend, Hiccup, and you didn't plan on telling him either. Or anybody else for that matter.

He almost found out your secret, two days ago, which is why you decided to stop for a while, but it was a bad addiction that you were used to doing daily.

With a audible sigh, you finally gave up, walking to the loose floor board and prying it open. A shiny sharp knife and beautiful sapphire necklace reviled themselves.

The necklace belonged to your late mother, who had died a year ago in a nasty pirate raid. Your entire village burned down in the dancing flames, teasing you as you sailed away from your old island.

The horrid memories rarely ever went away... until something else made it.

You slowly picked up the knife and stared at it for a long minute. But at long last, the memories were to painful and to be rid of them was your deepest desire. You pulled the long sleeve of your brown shirt up, revealing the hundreds of cuts on one arm.

As the knife pressed into your soft flesh, you took a deep breath and slowly move the blade up your arm. The physical pain making the memories and emotional pain disappear. The physical pain coming to the front of your mind.

You slowly made one more cut up your arm, right next to the other one.

You squeezed your eyes closed as the pain crept up your arm, but continued cutting.

You were so caught up in your little 'activity' you didn't realize that someone had knocked on your door, or that they had walked into your room until they took the knife out of your hand and gently picked you up and moving you to the medicine, which you kept in a basket in the kitchen.

When they finally set you down on a chair you saw who had stopped you.

Hiccup.

He didn't say anything, he just cleaned your self- inflicted wounds. You didn't object or try to stop him, knowing it was probably make him angrier. Oh, how angry he must be.

Once he was done with that arm he pulled up your other sleeve, worry and sadness- not anger though- filled his emerald green eyes as he cleaned those wounds as well. In a matter of minutes he finished.

"Is there anywhere else?" he asked, sadly, not looking into your eyes. You took this as a bad sign.

You didn't say anything, just lifted your shirt a bit to show the cuts on your stomach. He gasped before cleaning them. Whatever he was cleaning your wounds with burned but you knew it would be pointless to try and stop him. He was the chief's son and was going to be chief someday in the future as well. But since he was only sixteen he didn't have to worry about that for a few years.

Once he was done you put your shirt back. He looked into your (E/C) eyes with green, sad, worried ones.

Thinking he wanted an explanation you started, "Hiccup I-"

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