Summary: Kurt just can't take it anymore, he's tried so hard, but he can't do it. TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM. If you feel this might be triggering for you, please, for your safety, DO NOT READ. Enjoi!

Rating: M

Tumblr URL: where-glasz-meets-hazel

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"Watch it fag!"

The words rattle around Kurt's head and slice through his heart, sharper than his razor. He wraps his hand around the offending object, the cool metal heating in his hand and the sharp edge digging into his skin painfully. He doesn't notice.

"Fairy!"

The first cut is painful, it stings, it burns, and oh god, it hurts. But beneath the pain, there's a release, some relief from the pain and suffering around him, some stress gone. He sets down the razor and picks up his phone, typing out a quick message before shutting it off. It reads: Blaine, I love you. I cant stand to put us through this hell when you can pass for normal, while I cant. I'm sorry I had to leave you this way. Goodbye, Kurt.

"Lady loser!"

Kurt locks the door to his bathroom before sinking to the tile floor and grabbing the razor again. His hands shake as he presses the razor to his pulse point on the wrist of his right arm. The blade slides through the layers of flesh and veins easily.

"Cocksucker!"

His porcelain skin begins to lose its color, turning into a lifeless shade of grey. The blood swirls in patterns across his skin and drips onto the white floor. Tears begin to fall as his vision blurs and he presses the razor into his left wrist, sliding across.

"Fudgepacker!"

The blood is draining quickly, and Kurt sees more red than white at this point. He slides between the two worlds of conscious and unconscious, while someone is calling his name, climbing the stairs quickly. The blackness dims his vision as Blaine knocks down the door, pulling Kurt's limp body close and dialing 911 before kissing his forehead.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be okay. It'll all be okay."