The slickness of the acrylic coated the tips of his fingers, some finding its way onto the backs of his hands, but Levi didn't care. A few streaks of purple had found its way onto his jaw and elbow, and the feeling as it dried and flaked off his skin would have bugged him if it wasn't for the fact that he was so immersed in the music blasting in his ears and the act of adding colour to canvas to notice. He'd been tired all day, every day, for the past three weeks, and even though painting wasn't necessarily a calming act, he found that at 2 a.m. when the urge came, he could forget just how exhausting life had become.
He'd been listening to the same mix of songs for so long that they'd become one long piece of music, blending into a steady stream of white noise, and it distracted him from the feeling of paint on skin and the irritation that came with it. It allowed him to finally let loose, and he was grateful for the release because he knew how close he was to giving up completely.
When the alarm on his phone went off, Levi forced himself to stop and take a break to stretch and clean up the chaos around his easel. Looking around at the tubes of paint scattered on his coffee table, he sighed and pulled the headphones out of his ears with a clean finger. It felt strange to be back in reality, but he ignored the empty feeling and grabbed the cup he'd been using for his paint water. Sitting in the same position for almost seven hours stooped over his work had the teen's lower back burning and his legs numb, and he cursed as he stood up. It hurt to walk, the needles in his feet making him grimace, but he did his best to push through it as he walked to the kitchen sink.
It took a little longer than usual to clean up, and Levi groaned when he had everything packed back up before letting himself slide down to sit on the couch. He'd left everything where it was, knowing he'd have another wave of need the same time next morning. It was frustrating how engrossed he became when the mood struck him, how that no matter how hard he tried, it only came when it was inconvenient, but he'd learned early on to let it happen. His muse was an asshole, but a good one, and the end results always outweighed the hoops he had to jump through.
He could feel sleep tugging at his eyes, a migraine pulsing against his skull, and grabbed his phone, fumbling to punch in the correct numbers. The teen knew that he'd get yet another lecture for missing class, but called himself in anyway. His relationship with the attendance office was a close one, and Grace had graciously not asked much before letting him off the phone. The kind woman was one of the few people at his school that understood him- or at least tried too-and didn't treat him like he was lazy or a liar, and he was grateful that she'd been tasked with handling his absences, though he did feel guilty for making her job harder than it needed to be.
After throwing his pajama pants and t-shirt in the washing machine, Levi grabbed a clean towel and padded across his living room to the bathroom. He prayed that the acrylic would come out of them, but knew that even if it didn't, he'd still wear them. Call it an artist's badge of honor, but the reality of how few pieces of clothing he owned always loomed over his head. The dried paint was starting to make his skin crawl and while he wanted to get to bed as fast as possible, but there was no way he was going to even try before he'd gotten a shower. The water only took a few seconds to fully heat up, and he almost tripped in his rush to get under the spray. It burned his skin, but the pain was welcome. Pain was something he could focus on instead of the itch.
When the water had fully soaked into his hair and the steam was starting to make him lightheaded, he got to work, turning off the dial to not waste anything. He could barely pay his bills with the little he made at work, and he didn't want to tempt fate where his wallet was concerned. The tingle on his skin was starting to get worse and he realized that it had been a huge mistake to not get in the shower immediately. He hadn't been quick enough and his stupidity was going to cost him.
It was always the same, and if Levi had to describe it in one word, he would say 'bugs'. An itch, faint at first, would eventually turn into thousands of insects crawling all over his body, biting and scratching as they went about their business. The feeling could be compared to falling asleep in a tub of fire ants, and the teen wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies. A bad attack usually ended up with him curled in on himself covered in gauze; a good one would still be hellish enough to have him in tears.
Panic started to set in as he poured a palm full of body wash into his hand and ran the soap over his body. The tingling on his fingers had started to run up his arms, and he scratched at it, rubbing the cleaner into his skin roughly. It wasn't working, and as the crawling on his skin worsened, tears began to pool in his eyes. No matter what he did, he couldn't stop the feeling after it got to a certain point, and that fact made it so much worse. The helplessness made Levi's chest heavy and he choked on it, leaning against one of the shower walls for support. Sobs pushed passed his throat, the only sound in the small bathroom besides, and his eyes widened in horror when he realized that the white foam on his arms had been tinged pink by his blood. He couldn't even feel the sting of broken skin, the itch was so consuming.
The raven haired male gasped for breath, forcing himself to slide down and sit. He knew that if he didn't stop, he'd do more damage, but he couldn't. It was too much to handle, and the soap had started to mix in with the lingering paint residue to make it even worse. He could feel the prickling move down to his legs, and he whimpered as he began to claw at them as well. Levi had managed to quiet down after settling onto the floor, but the urge to tear off his own skin was still overwhelming.
By the time he'd calmed down enough to stand up and turn the water back on to rinse off, the suds had disappeared, and the pain from the scratches on his arms and legs had become more prominent. His skin was an angry red, from inflammation and blood, and the raised areas where his nails had dug in deep were too tender to touch. The itch was still there, but it was faint enough that when the heated water burned him, Levi could ignore it. It stung, but it was bearable, and he knew that he needed to get as much soap residue off as possible if he didn't want to have another attack when he was dry.
Levi stayed under the downpour until well after the water had turned to ice, and by the time he shut it off and stepped outside, he was a shivering mess. He dried off slowly, taking the time to remove every last drop and bead of liquid from his skin. Ever since the disorder had reared its ugly head, he was unable to put on clothing if he was even a little bit wet, and while he'd usually make himself grin and bear it, he wasn't going to risk it after his episode in the shower. It wasn't worth it to begin with since he had no where important to be except his own bed.
The teen forced a smile as he rummaged around in his medicine cabinet for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some bandages. He always made sure to keep them handy so it didn't take long to find what he needed, and he stepped back into the shower after a moment of hesitation. Resisting the urge to scratch at the areas where the shampoo and body wash hadn't rinsed off enough, he opened the container and took a deep breath. There were a lot of open wounds, too many for him to treat individually, and he knew that while he'd be wasting quite a bit, he grit his teeth and poured the rubbing alcohol onto his arms and legs. His eyes watered at the pain, but he refused to make any more noise, and his breathing evened out after a minute or two.
Drying off with a towel was going to be impossible, so Levi stood in the shower until he'd managed to air dry before stepping out to dress his wounds. As methodical as he was, wrapping the gauze over the cuts didn't take long, but it brought the itch back, and he wanted nothing more than to cease existing in that moment, throwing them into a pile of the ground in anger. He began to laugh after a moment, loud and uncontrolled, before making his way back into the living room. It was either laugh or cry, and he did both, his cackling quickly turning into a terrifying mix of the two as he sat back down on his couch to stare at his painting. The cold air felt good on his bare skin, but his migraine was back in full force, and he realized that between calling the school and his attack, he hadn't had a chance to take any medicine.
His legs ached, and he had no energy left in him, but he somehow managed to make his way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboards and a carton of orange juice, Levi poured himself something to drink and snatched a bottle of pain killers from on top of his microwave. He bit his lip as he opened it, pouring a handful into his palm. His breathing deepened as he stared at them, counting. One. Two. Five. Ten. Twelve. Levi thought back to the itch and sucked in air. It could be easy. No one would be there to stop him, and the only people who really cared about him were too far away to even know that anything had happened. They'd probably just forget him and move on like they should. Like they eventually would anyways.
The teen's eyes darted over to his painting for only a second before he sighed and dropped the tablets onto the counter. They bounced and clattered, some falling to the floor, and he carefully picked three up before popping them into his mouth and sucking. It was bitter on his tongue as they started to dissolve, and he swallowed them slowly, taking a sip of juice when they stuck in his throat. Without looking at the mess he made- he'd clean it up later- he shuffled to his bedroom for a much needed nap.
Levi woke up to overcast skies and two-hundred and seventy-three missed messages on Skype. Most were from his friend Hanji, which wasn't any surprise, and he groaned as he rolled out of bed to start a pot of coffee. His head throbbed, and he'd ran out of good tea a few days before, so he settled for the coffee for his daily caffeine fix with only a little complaint. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was cheap and did its job. While it brewed, he threw a slice of sourdough into the toaster and turned the TV on. He ignored the medicine scattered along his kitchen to the best of his abilities, making sure not to step on any on accident and crush them. Getting powder out of the carpet was a bitch to do with his vacuum.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and the black haired teen rolled his eyes before picking it up and unlocking it to look at his messages. The text was from Erwin, asking him if he was alright and if the blond needed to come over to check up on him, and Levi rolled his eyes as he replied.
To: Captain Eyebrows
You know as well as I do you can't just drive here from across the country.
He didn't even have the time to set his phone down before he got a reply.
From: Captain Eyebrows
Who said I was across the country?
To: Captain Eyebrows
Well if you aren't the fuck at home where the fuck are you?
Levi practically growled as he pressed send. He hadn't had anything to drink yet, and his friend's games were going to have him strangling the man through his phone. He couldn't practically see the man's smirk in his head.
From: Captain Eyebrows
Business trip :) I'm like 4-5 hours away…
The teen's eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and his heart rate quickened with the news, but he made sure to not let it show in his text. The older man didn't need more things to tease him about then he already had, and if Hanji got wind that they were even in the same state, she'd be demanding that they got together for pictures and other stupid things. And while he actually really did want to meet his friend, he also didn't want the man to meet him. Talking over the phone or the internet was one thing, but what if after they met face to face, Erwin decided that Levi wasn't worth keeping around. He didn't know what he would do if either Erwin or Hanji abandoned him.
To: Captain Eyebrows
I don't think I'll have time to visit. Work's been hell, and I have a mountain of homework to do. Senior year and all that shit.
From: Captain Eyebrows
If you insist. I'll be here for the weekend though- if you change your mind.
His eyes skimmed over Erwin's message and he sighed, throwing his phone off to the side to get up and get a cup of coffee. His toast had popped up a few seconds earlier and he smothered it in butter and strawberry jelly before throwing it onto a small plate. The painting from the night before stood on proud display on the coffee table, blocking the view of half the TV, but he didn't really care. At this time of day all that they played were old reruns and some of the newer shows that he didn't care for.
Levi stood up when he finished his meal, and he frowned when he set the plate into the sink to wash, thinking about how he was going to deal with the pills underfoot. There was no way in hell he was going to reuse them, even if his floor was practically clean enough to eat off of, but it was his last bottle, and he wasn't going to have any more money left in his check after bills and food to get another one. He stared at the dish as he scrubbed, putting it carefully into its place in the dishwasher when he'd deemed it clean enough. After wiping down the counters, the teen padded to his laundry room to grab a broom and dust pan for the mess on the floor. It didn't take long to finish, and he washed his hands quickly to remove any dirt or dust that might've made it onto his fingers.
It was dark, and after a brief look at his phone, he found out that he'd been asleep for a good fourteen hours. He was used to the binge sleeping so it didn't really surprise him, but he was still tired, and he had to actively keep himself from going back to bed before finishing the homework that had been accumulating during his absences from class. As much as he doubted that he'd be able to keep up with the work, he was determined to graduate on time and finally be free of the idiots at school, and it gave him the ability to power through for a little while to finish. By the time he let himself stop for the night, it was already 3 a.m. the next day, and he gratefully went back to bed. His muse hadn't paid him a visit, but he was glad, the ache in his arms and legs still strong and the burn fresh.
A/N: Hey there everyone c: I'm not even going to try and excuse the fact that I started another fic OTL Feel free to yell at me about my other stuff in the comments if you want. I'm well aware that I'm trash ;-; On the plus side, I should be able to have a regular update day for a while WHOOO. It's going to be Saturdays. And I'm going back to work on the other ones too (but I'm having to reread everything so bear with me ^^; )
I have a job now (a 12 hour shift) to juggle with 8 hours of school so until I graduate, my time online will be next to zilch outside of here and there and the weekends. I also got into ART SCHOOL IM SO EXCITED ;A;
Tactile Defensiveness is very much real, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. There's going to be more explanations in the actual fic cause it's a HUGE part of the plot, but it wouldn't help to look it up if you get confused. I can also try to answer any questions you might have ^^ Don't be afraid to ask about the disorder or the fic or anything, really. I love talking to you guys so much.
Alternate Title: What Lies Beneath Just Might Drive You Insane
I'm Mastia on tumblr and I'll be tracking the tags ereri fic: wlb and fic: ereri td
