Chuck stared at his disheveled appearance in the large mirror. He focused on his rats nest of hair, not in its usual combed and gelled state. The purple circles resting under his eyes, a symptom of substituting sleep with scotch. Everything about his reflection continued to disgust him, everything was falling apart in his world. He couldn't express his love to Blair, and now she would never feel the same, and his father died before he ever had the chance to prove his worth. Chuck had known this feeling all too well; the endless amount of self-hate, despair, and the desperate need for release. However, he hadn't allowed himself to feel like this since the eighth grade, it was then he decided he wouldn't show emotion, he wouldn't be weak, he wouldn't show love or be loved. But now, all those vows seemed to be crashing around him, and as tears started to slide down his cheeks for the first time in years, he needed to return to an old habit. He swore he was done with that long ago and he had kept his promise to himself, until now. Everything was too much for Chuck at the moment, and taking his inner pain out on himself seemed like the only option. He reached for his hidden razor with a trembling hand. He stood as he stared at his wrist with faded scars from a past life, that was about to be resurrected. As he made the first cut he slid to the ground, too numb with pain to notice the chill of the bathroom tiles. He continued tear at his skin and get lost in the pain. He didn't even notice when the door creaked open.
"Chuck?" a deep voice travelled through the room, over Chuck's cries. "Chuck!" the voice became more distraught as realization sank in. It was then Nathaniel ran into the room and over to his broken best friend. Fear and pain spread across his face as he glanced down at the quivering lip and crimson eyes of somebody who had been strong for so long. The last time Nate had seen Chuck like this they were barely fourteen. This was different, the eighteen year old in front of him looked like a mere child again.
"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry." Chuck choked out "I'm alright, I'll clean myself up." He hobbled up and wiped his eyes in an unconvincing act
"Chuck, it's okay. Let me help, you're not alright" With that sentence Chuck crumpled into a mess of sobs again. Without a second though, Nate grabbed onto to the boy and held him as he cried. Chuck clung to his shoulders like his life depended on it. It was a little odd to Nate, they hadn't hugged like this since they were children, but he knew Chuck needed somebody to be there for him now more than anytime.
The light-eyed boy placed the other on the closed toilet adjacent to the counter and began to wrap up his wrist before sending him into the shower. He then went out to the living room making a make shift bed on the couch, not even thinking about leaving Chuck alone tonight. If Chuck was alone he'd drink and then who knew how far he would go to end his suffering. Nate shivered at the thought and rolled it off his back, too determined to let that happen to his best friend. Just like Chuck was there for him countless time, it was now Nate's turn to be there for him, and he wasn't taking that responsibility lightly.