Psychic Love - Skysolo

𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀. 𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕦𝕝

Hi guys! This charpter will have triggering scenes that I made sure to label. If you think I should have selected a bigger part to label as triggering, please inform me. 

Either way, I hope you like this! Listen to the song above for a better experience! 

Without any further ado, let's just dive right into it! 

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*Luke's POV*

-Hey sissies! - Gabe screamed from the door, aproaching us. 

I took a deep breath in and out, getting ready to tell him to fuck off. Han was about to snap, but I held him back. I gave Han a small look, silently begging him not to belive anything he'd see me do. 

-Hi Gabriel, decided to come for a walk while the cops searched your place for homicidal influences? Or did they already left? - I commented casually, but loud enough to be heard on the other side of the shop, even if the only other clients in there where the two girls by the window. 

-Listen here, you fucking fag-

-This is a no smoking zone, sociopath. - I snapped, never losing my cool. - And there is no freezer big enough for you to lock me in and try to  murder me again, so maybe you could get your drink and leave. 

-Or else what? 

He tried to punch me, but I grabbed his fist halfway through. I didn't want to do that in front of Han, but I twisted his first and elbowed his arm, nearly snapping it in half. 

-Luck you, I'm a passific man, but don't push me Turner. - I said. still calm. He stepped back, getting out of the coffee shop. My hands began to shake a little as I sat down an sigh, hiding my face from the others. 

Han held my hand, trying to look at me in the eyes. 

-Kid, are you ok? - He sounded truly worried, unlike Evaan or Leia, who where just surprised. 

-I don't like this... no, scratch that, I hate this. I hate having to fight. I hate having people looking at me the way he did. I just... I wish they left me alone for... I dont know, I'm just asking a year... 

*Han's POV*

It ached to see him that torn up. For how long has he had to deal with this tipe of people? I rubbed his hand, grasping his other harm to pull it closer, but my action was interrupted by him hissing in pain. I dropped him arm in instinct and his pained face was replaced with the mirror of pure panic and anxiety. He reminded of a hurt animal about to run back to it's hiding spot. 

-Luke, what was that? - I tried to ask softly, not wanting to scared him away. 

-N-nothing, it was nothing, I just.... I'll be right back! - He jumped off his seat, running to the bathroom. 

*Luke's POV*

I closed the door behind me, breathing eavily and throwing my hands to my head, the pain panic produced coming back. I could not let him know, could I? He'd run away from me, knowing I was such a wreck. I suddenly felt the blade on my pocket, the one I forgot to take out of this pants before. The urge came back and, this time, I knew I'd give in the moment it first came. I struggled back tears and my fingers slowly took it out, pulling down my sleeve. 

*TRIGGER WARNING ⚠ : EXPLICIT SELF HARM! SKIP TO THE NEXT "*" IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY THIS! *

I looked down at my arm for a singular second. One more cut wouldn't hurt in the middle of so many cuts and scars, old and new, deep and superficial. I gasped silently before drawing the first cut, my head tilting back a bit in pain and release. It always felt like my frustrations left me for a moment of bliss when I exteriorized my pain, but it always needed more after, like a drug addict craving his next fix.