Close Enough? (Crankiplier) 2020

Pt. 2: "Ethan, are you okay?" (Ethan's POV)

Trigger Warning: Part 2 of "Close Enough?", does contain some touchy subjects, such as Selfharm. *Que Disclaimer Song.*

I toppled over. My arm quickly jolted forward, taking most of the damage. I landed on my posterior forearm, and my skin split open as the shards burrowed inside. I gasped, and trembled, as blood started pouring out of me.
I struggled to sit up, staring blankly at the maroon mess, I felt the adrenaline kick in, and it left me in a dazed yet guilty state of pleasure, just like it had so many times before. Marks face was struck with shock. "Jesus Ethan, you need to be more careful!" I didn't know how to react, I missed this sensation, each drop of blood seemed to relieve something I had built up for so long. He quickly grabbed the towel, crouched down on one knee, and wrapped it around my arm. He grabbed me by my chin, and starred worrisome into my eyes, "Ethan are you okay?!" He had never looked at me like that before, it was something I wanted to savor.
I felt so safe, yet so flustered by the events that had just unravelled. Our eyes were locked in on each other. No matter how hard I tried to muster up a response, nothing seemed to come out right. My mouth hung slightly open. "What is this feeling?" I thought. I felt so over whelmed, who knew the spill of a coffee could bring back so many feelings I had pushed down for so long.
"Say something!?" He urged.
There were no more than four inches between our lips, but it wasn't close enough, I wanted to draw in closer, and for a split second it felt like he did too. I forced myself to hold back, I didn't want to face my feelings again. I had worked so hard to suppress them, and pretend that what we had was enough.
I felt so ashamed, because wanting something can turn into expecting something, and it would be selfish of me to expect more from him, wouldn't it? He had done so much for me already, it was an absolute dream of mine to be able to work with him, but he has Amy. He's already happy with someone else, I thought. Though as I looked into his eyes, the barriers I put up seemed to fold over, I felt so vulnerable like any second I could give in to the urges. I wanted to stay in his arms forever.
My eyes darted up and down to his eyes, and to his lips. My own internal conflict. I couldn't take the build up. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, "I'm sorry Mark", I muffled. "Look at me." he insisted. I nuzzled my face deeper into his shirt. Was I really crying over nothing? He can't see me like this. I wiped my face on my sleeve, looked up at him and smiled, "I'm okay, I promise."
I could tell he noticed the tears in my eyes, and for once it felt like he could see right through me.
"Oh yeah, you're just fine, the epitome of health infact.". I laughed a little harder than I should of, I'd been waiting for him to crack a joke, it always seemed to cheer me up, no matter what it was. He placed his hand on my cheek, it was warm and inviting. His eyes lit up, "You don't have to hide it anymore." My expression changed. I began to panic, was I really that obvious?