Perfect Insanities

How We Express

Thank you so much for the comments on the last update. The most comments out of all stories. Here's a new chapter, enjoy.
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Hours later, Will pulled the blade out of his razor. In the midst of their fight, Jordan had forgotten to take it back from him. Or maybe, it wasn't an accident this time. He knew the boy well enough to know what was going to come next. Carefully, Will peeled off his shirt, exposing his pale, starving body. The scars had begun to heal, showing him how long it had been since he had been able to harm himself.

Just like in the past, he popped the razor easily out of its case, and held it against his wrist. Without even thinking about it, he cut his flesh open, and let the blood flow out. He didn't even feel it. One after another, Will watched as the cuts appeared on his arms, each beginning to bubble over with warm, sticky blood. Should it hurt? He didn't know. Next, he moved to the other arm. When blood covered most of his arms, he moved to his chest. Maybe, if he went deep enough, he could get his heart. No, the neck would be more effective.

The next thing he knew, the blade was pressing against his jugular. Did he really want to die? Yes. No. No. No. Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

He pushed the blade down, but jerked away when he felt the skin begin to break. Tomahawk. He couldn't do that to Julio.

As quickly as the thought came, it left. Where the hell had that come from? Will looked around the room, as if it would give him an answer. Nothing. His hand made its way up to his neck, brushing against his jugular. The skin had broken, and he felt a few drops of blood on his skin. Nothing lethal by any means.

For now, it was good enough. But before he did anything else, he'd need to get himself washed up. He looked down at his arms, only to find that they were completely covered in blood. Soon, the liquid would begin to drip on the floor, and the last thing he wanted to do was stain the carpet. He was already enough of a pain in the ass, and doing anything more to piss off the older guardian probably wasn't a good idea.

He wiped his hands off on his black pants so that he wouldn't have to clean as much off of the door knob later. When the door creaked open, he had expected to find the path to the bathroom empty. Unfortunately, Jordan was standing at the door to his own bedroom, obviously just about to go inside. At the sound of the door opening, he automatically looked at Will.

The guardian looked down at the cuts, up at Will, and then back down to the cuts. "Oh." Was all he managed to get out before retreating to his room and shutting the door softly behind him.

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Tomahawk sat himself down at his desk and cracked open a very clean, well organized composition book. He had kept all of his thoughts in it since he had arrived at Devon's, and lately, he had been putting a significant amount of writing into it. He needed to think, but there was no way he'd be able to do all of it out loud. Every word was written neatly...carefully. He didn't just jot his words down like Will; he didn't want display his emotions so rawly. It made the boy feel too vulnerable...too weak. Tomahawk needed order to keep himself in check. To keep himself sane, really.

Lately, he had been feeling things for his guardian. He wasn't sure of whether or not it was acceptable, or if he was even being rational. He already knew that he had an inclination to prefer men over women, and it was hardly part of the main issue. Devon was very many years older than he, and even though they were both adults...he was the man's foster child.

No matter which way he looked at it, there was no way to justify his feelings. Scowling slightly, the boy flipped to a new page in his notebook. He had to start again; he hadn't gotten it right yet.

Part of him wanted to believe that Devon had similar feelings, but he knew better. The older man was friendly with everyone, and he was by no means an exception or anything special. He was just like everyone else.

And, as much as he wanted to tell Devon about his feelings, he knew that he wouldn't. It was too complicated. Too many words, too much potential for disaster. It was better for him to just keep his mouth shut and keep things the same. Unlike most people, he was perfectly content with unrequited love. He was with Devon, and he was happy. He wasn't willing to sacrifice that for a relationship that might not even work. After all, there was no point in-

"Julio!"

Before the boy had a chance to hide the notebook, the door to his room swung open and slammed against the opposite wall, nearly falling off of its hinges.

"Hm?" Tomahawk tried his best not to sound shocked by the urgency in his guardian's voice. Even more concerned than that was his paled face and terrified expression. "What?"

"Will."

Not a second later, Tomahawk was on his feet. What about Will? "What?" he repeated, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Devon shook his head, and put his hand up, signaling for Tomahawk to give him a minute. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "He...Jordan thinks he's going to try and kill himself."

Tomahawk's eyes widened, but he said nothing. Where had that come from? He thought Will had been doing fine up until now. When had all of that changed? "Why?"

"He and Jordan got into a fight. It sounded pretty bad..." Devon trailed off. "I...thought you should know. Jordan called me a few minutes ago. He sounded awful." When Tomahawk said nothing, he moved over to the younger man to put a hand on his shoulder. Quickly, the boy moved away from the touch.

"What happened?"

"Will cut himself up yesterday. Jordan thinks it's going to get worse, so-"

"I want to go to Jordan's house."

Devon blinked a few times. "Right now?"

"Yes."

Before Devon had a chance to say yes or no, Julio was already on his way out the door, notebook completely forgotten.
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Graser slammed his fist against the window of the car for at least the tenth time during their short trip. Liam sat silently in the driver's seat, staring hard at the road. They had yet to speak extensively about the phone call that the older man had just received, but it was extremely obvious that Graser was nothing short of livid.

"What the fuck does that fucking asshole thing he's doing?" Graser spat. "If he thinks he's going to get away with this, he has another thing fucking coming."

Liam said nothing. Though he was close friends with Jordan, he hadn't expected this from him. The outburst wasn't anything shocking, it was just the fact that he had directly attacked Will, of all people. Even in a fit of rage, the man would have known that he was doing something potentially lethal to Will, and Liam knew that his friend was by no means a killer.

"How long ago did it happen?"

"Two hours."

"He could have offed himself by now."

"I think he's still alive."

"Think."

"We'll be there soon, Zach."

"Not soon enough."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fucking fault." Silence lapsed over them for a few moments before Graser decided to speak again. "How deep were they?"

"I don't know. All Jordan told me was that there was a lot of blood."

"Ah. Deep, then."

"I guess."

"He's an asshole."

"Mm."

Liam pulled the car into Jordan's driveway, and Graser took a deep breath before pushing the car door open. After all he had done to himself, all he asked in return now was that his friend hadn't tried to kill himself again.
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AND THATS WHERE WE ARE GONNA STOP IT AT FOLKS BAUAHAH COMMENT AND FAV IF YOU ENJOYED <3