I hope this doesn't trigger anybody. Please don't read if you're easily affected by talk of self harm/ depression. Message me any time if you need help, advice or just a chat. I'm writing about this as a form of therapy to deal with my own issues so I understand. I don't know whether to carry on with this but let me know if it's any good at all. Thank you!
She Will Be Loved
You don't know how to explain the blood on the sheets and you don't know what to do. James will be home any minute and you can't explain this to him. You never will be able to. This was not something he was supposed to know about.
There were so many things you couldn't tell him. You couldn't tell him how much you were missing home. LA had been a big change from your little town. You couldn't tell him how much you were hurting – Being eighteen and moving in with your 22 year old boyfriend didn't exactly go down well with your parents. They stopped talking to you. And being constantly teased by James' friends for being slightly younger than them affected you more than anyone knew. You wore a brave face because you had to. You couldn't explain to him that every time you had the apartment to yourself, the blades would come out and you'd punish yourself for all the things you had fucked up. If you weren't careful, you would fuck everything up with James too.
You pull the sheets off and force them into the washing machine and spray around some febreeze to make it seem like you're cleaning. He'll never know. You quickly bandage up the fresh cuts on your thighs and pull on a pair of jeans, crying out at the friction.
It takes a lot of strength for your eyes not to water when you hear the doorbell go and get up to answer it, legs aching with each step.
"Sorry (Y/N). I forgot my keys again!" James shouts through the door as you unlock it.
He pushes through the doorway, throwing his bag down on the floor and picks you up like you're a feather. "Hey!" He smiles.
You force the best smile you can. Your legs are killing. "James, put me down!" You shout and he does, hearing the pain in your voice.
"What's wrong?" He asks, still with his arms wrapped around your waist, his eyes searching yours quickly. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing" You say "I just feel a little dizzy, that's all". He kisses your forehead and closes the door behind him.
"Why don't I start dinner and you relax?" He offers with a small smile. "Take it easy". You nod and as he takes his hoodie off and heads to the kitchen you go to the bathroom. You try really hard to not cry. But you feel so heavy and you don't know what to do.
"(Y/N), baby, I've made you some tea out here. Are you really not feeling great?" James calls through the door. You wipe your eyes to stop them watering and go outside. James is standing with a steaming mug, his hazel eyes tinged with worry. "Come, sit down". He hands you the mug and leads you to the sofa. Sitting next to him, things feel different. Maybe it's the heat of another body, or just James' body. You rest your head against his chest and he wraps an arm around you.
"How was work?" You ask.
"It was good. But I'm glad to be home. The guys were going to come around tonight, but if you're not feeling great…" He says. It's literally the last thing you want right now. But this is his house. "We can just have a night in, you and me".
"Thanks. I'm sorry" You say quietly.
"What's up with you tonight? Are you coming down with a temperature or something?" James asks, pulling you closer into him.
"No, no. I'm fine. I'll be fine tomorrow" You tell him. Sitting in silence, James rests his other hand on your knee and slowly moves his palm up your leg. You want to cry out when he touches your thigh. He feels you tense and you panic, jerking your leg.
"(Y/N)? What is wrong with you? You've been acting weird since I got home" James questions. You don't know what to say, so you don't say anything. You just keep breathing. When you don't answer, he presses his lips hard onto yours and you don't stop him. He gently pushes you down onto the sofa so you're on your back and he hovers over you, lips still attached. You run your hands through his now short brown locks and he kneels, a leg on each side of you. He pulls the sweatshirt you're wearing up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. His hands reach for your jeans and you don't know how to stop him.
He kisses down your chest and stomach whilst unclasping your jeans and you can't stop yourself from crying. You keep quiet but the tears stream down your cheeks. He pulls them down and when he sees the top of the bandages, stops dead in his tracks. Your breathing has changed and he can feel it. You feel him look up at you but you keep your eyes on the ceiling, bringing a hand up to clasp over your mouth to stop the sobs.
You can imagine the look of disbelief that must be on his face. It makes you cry harder.
"(Y/N), what the fuck is this?" He says so quietly that you're not sure whether he's actually talking to you or to himself. He pulls your jeans down to your knees and stares at the bandages. "What have you done to yourself?"
You sit up, yank up your jeans and try to walk away but James grabs you and forces you to stay where you are. Standing, he towers over you and tries to wipe away your tears but you bat his hand away. You don't deserve comforting.
When you finally look at him, his eyes are more hurt than you could ever imagine. He frowns in disbelief. "What have you done?"