A Certain Sort Of Loneliness

Normal

Some very triggering stuff in here including graphic descriptions of self harm so be careful

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His head was whirling. Wordless thoughts crashing and colliding against his skull, shivers pushing through him as he took dizzy steps towards his bed.

He'd lost someone again. He was unimportant. Lukas didn't need him - he never had - it had just taken him this long to realise it.

Black clawed at the edges of his vision and Emil forced himself to focus on his hands, mumbling repetitive mantras to himself as he opened and closed his palms till the swirling in his stomach slowed and became distant and numb.

He wasn't there anymore now. He was... someone, probably, but he certainly wasn't him.

He stared at the light, eyes burning slowly as he found himself too tired to even blink or look away from it, glaring white pounding at his head till he felt pulse-like throbbing against his temples.

Now. Now what? Now that. That. Yes. Now? Of course.

He didn't know who he was talking to. It didn't matter - he didn't need to. He didn't need to know what he was doing when it wasn't him, so when he found himself reaching for the blades all over again, pulling off his top to avoid stains, it all seemed so natural, so...normal - so okay that nothing in his mind protested to what he was about to do.

One...two...three- slit

One...two...three- slit

One... two...thre-

Once, twice more, and then again he cut, hissing as the pain hit him like a wave, deep, stinging pain that coursed through him in violent shivers. The blades clattered on the wood floor as Emil dropped them to reach for the tissues beside them, clumping them together in to a makeshift sponge to soak up the red that had begun to pool and spill over across his skin.

Time passed like nothing - if not for the steadily growing pile of blood-soaked papers beside him, Emil would have not had any idea of time passing at all. Finally, the bleeding stopped and Emil was left to stare at the gaping cuts, the skin around them reddening and swelling, making the yellow, grainy lumps of fat that he had cut in to all the more apparent.

A light, tingly feeling went through his body. His head felt clearer, lighter, cleaner. He liked this, he decided, it was nice. He found himself staring at them, eyes glistening in near childlike curiousity as he reached out with his right hand, forefinger and thumb pushing the torn flesh back together and pulling them apart again, over and over and over again till Emil forgot what he had been doing at all.

A knock on the door, quiet, yet firm and soft at the same time - Lukas.
Emil froze. No moving. Not allowed. Not ready. The silence stung.

Another knock.

More silence.

"Emil," Lukas' voice came quietly, muffled by the door between them, "I'll...I'll leave it out here for you."

More silence. Then footsteps. A little while longer and Emil finally allowed himself to breath, taking in gulps of air in rapid, panicked succession.

Carefully, carefully, Emil made his way to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a little, barely even a crack. Through it, he could make out a small tray, on it a mug, steam pouring from it like a geyser, a little striped paper bag, the pattern all but unfamiliar to Emil, he went to that sweetshop all the time after all...or, used to at least. Beside the mug was a bowl, filled with home-baked butter cookies - Lukas' specialty.

Oh.

It was strange. Just now he had been... numb. Someone else. But now, as he slid the tray in to his room and placed it on the bedside table, he found that, despite himself, butterflies began flooding his stomach, and tiny, tiny droplets swelling from his eyes as he chewed on the cookie. Warmth. It was so...warm. So wonderfully, wonderfully warm.

Beneath the bowl was a note - that was a new...thing?

Scrawled in thin, curling handwriting was a message:

Emil,
The others are going on a trip today and won't be back till tomorrow.
I'll be out too, but I'll be back this afternoon.

Lukas

The note was so, he wasn't sure how to explain it - normal?

Normal.

He hadn't felt that in a while.