Boyf riends angst book

I love you.

I guess this is a kind of vent fic? i don't know, i'm sorry. and i'm back! sorry for not updating for a while :( This won't be the best as I haven't been active in a while. I'll try to improve and be more active

featuring, trans! Jeremy, but there isn't much talk of him being trans, as he keeps it mostly a secret, except from Michael, of course, and his previous partner.

tw- self harm. slurs. suicidal thoughts, mentions of death. It's very angsty.

Jeremy's POV:

Running home crying isn't as fun as it sounds. It doesn't even sound fun. Everyone watches you as you keep your head down in shame and tears fall down for some stupid reason. I hate it here so much.

I quickly shove down my bag onto my thigh and lift my knee up as i search for my keys. I grab them and unlock the door, walk in, and slam it behind me. I run up my stairs and drop everything in my room.

I start curling up on my bed, forcing myself to not do anything stupid. Forcing my hands to grip onto something to not harm myself is my only option now.

My sobbing intensifies into more rough and spontaneous crying, screaming and hitting things. Im doing everything i can to not disappoint Michael. I'm trying to be good enough for him.

No, no i just can't take it anymore. I'm still sobbing and i NEED to relieve something, anything!

I pick myself up from my bed, feeling exhausted and dehydrated, and still not bothering to take care of myself. I don't need to, right? I'll hopefully be dead soon. I'm a disappointment and ugly anyway. I don't understand how Michael is still with me. doesn't he find me ugly? i don't understand

Stammering into the bathroom and shaking is also harder than you think it is. I lock the door and gently throw myself and grip the toilet seat that I land on. Gently standing up, i search for anything sharp. Anything, a shaving razor, a razor blade, even a mini knife, although i doubt we'd have on of those in our bathroom.

After a few minutes of scrambling through my drawers, i find a small, clean razor blade. I gently pick the shiny, flat metal up, still shaking. Is this really my last resort? I could do better but i need the fastest way to take the pain away.

Hesitantly, i pick up the blade and place it on my wrist. I'm still shaking. Is this really the last option? I'll be disappointing michael! But i'll be dead and he'll forget about me at some point. He'll move on and find someone better that isn't a burden.

The cold metal presses against my skin and leaves a clean, bold, scarlet cut. The blood starts to bead on top of it. Instead of stopping and cleaning up, i roll my sleeve up higher and carry on, just like it's on autopilot. Except it's not and i know everything that i'm doing. I can feel all the pain, all the blood, and i still cut deeper.

It's only until mid-way down my thigh until i feel faint. Like i might pass out. I finish my final cut as the metal falls out of my hand, and hits the blood-filled tiles. My head starts to spin and i can feel myself losing conciousness. I finally thought i'd be left alone. No more bullying , no more feeling like a burden, no more flashbacks. I was centimetres away from my death, except now i'm years away.

"Hello?" I hear a  familiar voice echo through the door, but i'm too weak to get up.
"Jeremy? Are you in there?" I try to do anything, move to open the door, grunt, say something! except the most i do is fall into the pool of blood still dripping from me.
"Jere, i'm coming in" He fiddles with the lock and bashes the frame for a few minutes. I'm still on the floor, except
i'm crying again. Michael crouches down to me, tears brimming in his eyes. He composes himself and sternly helps me up. "Jeremy, we need to get you cleaned up." I blink at him, feeling even more faint with tears brimming in my eyes.

He silently places me in the bathtub with the shower head on. He rinses the blood off my body. I flinch when the warm water  touched my fresh cuts, as it stings. he quietly rubs my back, crouching by the side of the tub. After he's done cleaning me off, he rubs disinfectant on my arms. I hiss in pain as he continues, and wraps my cut limbs in bandages. He then slides some of my comfort clothes on me, which are my shorts and his hoodie. Then he picks me up and gently takes me to my room, placing me onto my bed, where I immediately pass out.

Waking up was a disaster. Every part of my body ached, and I had a splitting headache. I blinked and wriggled around, accidentally kicking Michael and immediately cuddling up to him as an apology. he wraps his a arms around my torso and I gently place my face on his chest, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

He speaks up first.

"Jeremy..."

"I know, I'm sorry, you can leave now if you want to"

"No, I'm- just. Why? I mean, why did you do that? talk to me, please"

He looks at me in a way I cant describe. A wave of guilt rushes through me, as the threatened tears finally fall. I start sobbing as I speak.

"I'm so sorry Michael" I tell him, already sobbing.

"Could you tell me what happened? Why I found you on the floor, y'know, almost dead?"

I take a gasp of air, and slowly let it out to try and compose my breathing. It didn't work.

"W-well, one of the boys at our school. One of my exes, actually. H-he called me a tranny and fag, and said I'm a waste of air. He said he only dated m-me because I was depressed and ugly and he w-was desperate. He kept calling me slurs and only ta-talked about his problems-" I hiccupped. Michael was listening carefully, watching every one of my moves and facial expressions.

I carried on "I- I don't know why I ever dated him. I knew he was a bad person, but I ignored anyway. I dont know, Maybe I thought If I dated him long enough, he'd forget how u-ugly I am?. I couldn't get his words out of my head, and he came up to me again this week and started calling me horrible words again. I was so afraid that you'd also follow him and that you're faking liking me and that you want me dead and I wasn't even thinking and I-" I was interrupted mid sentence. By my sobs and voice breaking, and by Michael, grabbing me tightly and holding me. I cried into his shoulder hard, and I kept muttering "Please don't leave me". I was still shaking like a leaf, even though I was under a couple of blankets

"Shhh, shh baby, I wont leave you I promise I don't want you dead. I'm so so glad you're alive and that I found you before anything horrible happened. But Jeremy, You've got to talk to me. I know its hard. But it hurts me so much to see you in pain, and I don't think I can handle it if you ever left me. As for him calling you slurs, Ill get rich and Jake on him. He wont bother you ever again I promise. you're so handsome and manly and you don't deserve any pain, I love you, Jere. You're the best boyfriend in the world, I promise you."

I started shaking as I fell into his embrace. I looked at him, with tears in my eyes. He smiled at me and kissed by tears away.

Do you really mean it? Everything you said?" I asked, looking at him in denial.

"Yeah I do, I love you, Jeremy Heere. Now come on, we need to clean and change your bandages. It's gonna hurt a little bit."

He picked me up and took me to the bathroom, and sat me on the toilet seat. I squeezed my eyes shut, as he slowly and gently peeled the red-stained bandages off. He rubbed my thigh in comfort and I loosened up a little. Until he put disinfectant on.

It hurt, a lot. But he got me through it. He re-wrapped my arms and thighs, and carried me towards my bed. There, he cuddled me until he knew I was asleep. He held my hand throughout the whole night.