Nico twirled the cigarette in his fingers with burning eyes and quiet breaths. He was so tired; so tired of hating himself, so tired of being unlovable and unwanted, so tired of itching to hurt. He pressed the lit end to his skin, biting his lip as the burn settled into his flesh before pulling away and running his fingertips over the red circle.
Letting out a sigh, he leaned back and tilted his head up to look at the ever-so-slowly brightening sky from his spot on the roof. Silently he prayed to Hades, but there was no response.
"What's even the point," Nico grumbled. "He won't listen to me anyway."
He picked up the blade lying next to him and studied the gleam of light that shone on it. After a moment he shook his head and set it to his skin, running it down the top of his thigh to his knee with a push, breathing in as he watched the blood trickle down. He loved the burn, the biting sting, the way the cool air dug into the cut. Unable to resist his own aesthetic, he sliced across his wrist carefully and tilted his arm.
The relief he felt was instant. It was like splitting open his skin created a barrier between himself and all his thoughts. He found himself unable to think, unable to feel anything but pain, in that one tiny moment for just a few seconds as the blade slashed across his skin and the physical pain surfaced, blocking away all the emotional shit he didn't know how to deal with.
And honestly, it was all worth it to have that one moment of peace, that one moment where he wasn't thinking about how much he hated himself or deserved to die, because all he could do was focus on the pain until the high faded.
And fuck, he lived for that high, literally. The buzz he felt when he was in pain and there was blood streaming down and he was a dizzy high mess- he loved it. He shouldn't, his body was supposed to reject the pain, shy away from it, but, god, he needed it. He couldn't survive without it and what did it matter, when he was all alone and had nothing to live for?
He let out a short breathy laugh as he contemplated the point of his own life. Did he even matter? Not really. Life was pointless. Better to end it and get it over with, he supposed. He'd just suffer for the rest of his life anyway. Wouldn't he just be doing everyone a favor? A sense of "this is right" settled over him. He knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do.
He stretched out on his back and folded his hands behind his head, waiting for the sunrise.
Thanks for reading! This sucked lmao so if for some reason you actually liked this piece of shit, please favorite or comment to let me know! idk I was just trying to get emotions out here. Sorry it's short, this is how I wanted it to end!