As I walked to the parking lot, my feet dragged against the concrete as if passing through molasses. Gray clouds littered the sky and released drizzle sporadically while the light breeze rustled the browning leaves on the trees. It seemed that the weather fit my mood. I held in my hand a rolled, crumpled test with a sickening D on it, which would soon join the pile of scattered papers and books defiling my desk. I puffed out a small sigh, thinking about another all-nighter looming in the near future with the papers and tests coming up. I slumped down on a nearby bench and crunched my eyes shut. My hands grabbed hold of my dry, frizzled hair, and my midsection contracted, hunching me over in order to try to catch my breath. However, my chest constricted and my heart pounded ever louder in my ears as I mentally scrolled through my impossibly long to-do list.

Club activities, classwork, and my part-time job filled my schedule to the brim. Not to mention I needed to search for internship opportunities. All that coupled with only a few hours of sleep during the past couple of days could definitely short-circuit the body.

I started sucking in short, shallow breaths, and those accursed black dots intruded my vision. I braced myself on the edge of the bench, and as soon as I physically could I rushed off towards the structure. By the time I reached it I all but sprinted to my car, chucked my backpack in the trunk, and somehow managed to drive to my apartment complex without crashing. My hands shook as my fingers searched for my apartment key, and my vision blurred enough to where I missed my locks a few times. I threw myself into my room and started bawling. My legs weakened and I collapsed on the floor against the wall, curling into myself with head on my knees.

Tears continuously ran down my cheeks for what seemed like hours, and soon my wails devolved into slight hitches of my breath. But the pressure in my chest hadn't subsided. I leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to find a spark of motivation to start my work, but found nothing. I then sluggishly stood up and lumbered out of my room with weak, dry sobs interrupting the silence of my apartment every few moments. I ended up in the kitchen and plopped down on a wooden chair. I stared at the cupboard longingly, but my hunger had dissipated days ago. I still forced myself to nibble on snacks, though, especially when around my friends or Arthur, my boyfriend.

I winced at the tightness in my chest, and desperately searched for a distraction intense enough to erase the pain and stress. My eyes wandered around the apartment, and spotted the knife set sitting innocently on the counter. That familiar itch ran down my forearm, and I began to shake. My little rational voice screamed to stop now. I hadn't sliced myself in ages, as proven by the thin, white scars littered across my body, but in the spur of the moment my needs overrode my will. I stood up abruptly and a spinning room with dancing spots greeted me, but I steadied myself enough to make my way to the counter in a couple of strides. I picked up the sharpest knife, and placed the cold metal blade on my skin. I shuddered at the impact, and slowly slid the edge across without much pressure. However, that alone did nothing to curb that itch. If anything it made it worse. I paused for a moment, my mind shouting for me to stop and THINK about the consequences, about what this would do to Arthur if he found out. But my body seemed to move on its own as I applied more pressure on the handle, causing it to sink into my flesh. The sharp metal dug deep enough to where it broke the skin, and I released a slight hiss from the pain, but embraced it at the same time. I breathed in deeply as my murky mind cleared, the stress lifting away. The itching subsided, and I relished the slight throbbing in my arm. The guilt and shame then hit me like a brick and I sighed as I took a look at the bloody trail across my skin. I rinsed the knife off quickly and threw it in the pile of dirty dishes. I then grabbed a paper towel and covered the cut to impede the bleeding even though it stung.

I grimaced as I saw the few dots of crimson on the white tile, and quickly tore off another towel to wet it and erase the red. After I finished, I slowly set off to bandage my arm and hide what I had done. I cleaned myself up, and a few moments later the click of a lock traveled to my ears. My heart rate accelerated, and I scrambled to my room for a hoodie.

"Hey Artie!" I shouted as gleefully as I could from my room. I tried to form a bright smile, but when I lifted my head, red-rimmed eyes, messy hair, and a half-assed lift of my lip stared at me from beyond the mirror.

"_! I told you to stop calling me that! Where are you, love?"

I cautiously placed my hood upon my head, took a deep breath, and steeled myself for the best performance of my life. I bounced out into the hall and glomped Arthur where he stood.

"I'm so glad to finally see you! I've missed you!"

Arthur pushed me back laughing, muttering something about how we see each other every day, and when he opened his eyes I knew that I had failed.

"Is something the matter?" I could feel the concern dripping from his voice.

"What? Nah, I'm fine! Just woke up, actually!" I then faked a yawn, closing my eyes and pretended to rub away the sleep. Even though such a futile attempt would probably alert him even more, I really didn't want him to worry about me. Not after…what happened before. I could feel what little strength I had left slipping away, and when I opened my eyes to look at my boyfriend his countenance portrayed my biggest fear.

His forest green eyes shimmered in the light with worry, and searched my face for any clues. His thick eyebrows crinkled together, and a slight frown replaced his smile.

"What are you hiding from me? You know you can talk to me about anything…"

I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets. The fake smile broke into pieces as I let my bangs cover my eyes, desperately hoping it would all just go away. I couldn't let anyone in. They didn't need to share in my misery, especially Arthur. I mustered all I could to shake my head and plaster a new smile on my face as I heard myself speaking.

"Nothing's wrong! It was just a long day at school, is all!" I then grabbed his hand and began skipping slightly towards the living room in an attempt to make him forget. However, he was having none of that.

"_...you're not okay. I can tell. Talk to me!" His voice strained a bit as he tried to hold back his temper. I knew what I had to do then.

"Arthur, just…just leave me alone! I can handle it! God, can you stop smothering me? Every day it seems like you ask the same damn question and its freaking annoying!" I then forcibly released his hand as I glared at him for a second before stomping back towards my room in hopes of avoidance. I believed I had escaped until his arms curled around my waist tightly, stopping me in my tracks. He pulled down my hood, and whispered in my ear "I know what you're trying to do. It won't work this time." He then turned me around, placed a few fingers tenderly under my chin, and slowly forced me to look at him.

"You did it again, didn't you?"

I tore myself away from his grip, and wished the earth would swallow me whole. I didn't want to face the disappointment and pity he probably displayed upon his face, especially since he's stuck with me ever since the first time he found out. My head tilted towards the ground, and the tears welled up once again in my eyes.

"I-I….I'm s-sorry!" I cried. My knees buckled and I hid my face in my hands. Sobs racked my body and the panic set in again. 'Was this it? Was Arthur going to leave me? Who could love somebody who was a constant disappointment?' Those thoughts played on repeat in my mind as I wailed uncontrollably. Then, when I had lost all hope, he enveloped me in a silent, gentle hug.

I tensed up and tentatively peeked up at my boyfriend with fear and hopelessness in my eyes.

"A-Arthur?"

"Shhh. It'll be okay. I love you, _. I will always love you."

Those words broke me, and I collapsed against him and bawled. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear and held me tight until I could no longer cry.

"Would you like to talk about it, love?" I shook my head and gripped his jumper even tighter than before. He sighed, and caressed my hair until I lessened my death grip and found my voice, no matter how small.

"…Arthur…I'm sorry. I know what I did was rash but…I couldn't see a way out…" I sniffed, and wiped the lone tears off my cheeks. "The pain…it hurt so much Arthur! It overwhelmed me and I couldn't resist the itch…." I then balled up my fists and slammed them on the ground. "God why am I such a failure?"

He grabbed my hands and I tensed again, staring at my boyfriend with wide, owlish eyes. "Don't you dare belittle yourself. You are not a bloody failure, my dear. Yes, you may have relapsed this one time, but you've held strong for such a long time and I am proud of you." I began to grumble a bit at that comment but he cut me off quickly. "No, I am. You've been doing well with coping with the stress." He then paused for a moment, looked at me with those sad, emerald eyes, and said "I'm…I apologize for not being here more often to help you through this rough time. I had a sense that something was going on, but…but…" Tears began to fill up his own eyes and I panicked for an entirely different reason.

I hugged him fiercely and said "Don't, Arthur. You have no fault here. It's my battle and I'm so lucky to have you by my side through this." My voice began wavering and I gave him a teary smile. "You've been my guiding light this whole time, and you've helped me so much. You make me want to live and all those negative thoughts I used to have dissipate when you are around." I then pressed a tentative kiss against his lips and prayed silently that I could convey to him I meant every word. Arthur's hand twined itself into my hair and pressed me closer, deepening the kiss slightly. Soon the kiss changed into something more than just a portrayal of our bond and trust, and when we separated we both gasped for air. After a few minutes of catching our breath, I looked at my boyfriend and prepared myself for an emotional discussion.

"Arthur…I think I'm ready to talk now…"