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That stupid blade. That stupid razor-blad that sat, dripping with blood. Her tears fell down onto the wounds, salty tears digging into the cuts. She sucked in a breath. Fuck. It hurt. Stinging pain, blood dripping down onto the tile floor of her friends apartment. Her friends apartment. She had done this at.
A knock at the door. Dave knocked again, before stopping. "[Y/N]? Are you alright? It's been a while and I can hear you crying." He stated. He turned to open the door, knob jiggling with the lock. He stood there, defeated for a moment.
She sat there. Eyes wide. He couldn't know. She always hid the scars. Hide the bandages and wounds. Despite the hot summer heat, wearing longer pants and shorts. It normally wasn't on her arms, her thighs, waist sometimes. Never the arms, it always was too risky. Especially with the blazing heat waves of the Texas summer heat. She sucked in a breath. "Y-Yeah, I-I'm fine.." She stuttered out. She sniffed. "J-Just give me a moment." She dropped the blade into the toilet, grabbing a black toilet and wiping the blood off the floor. The stupid smuppets staring at her. They looked into her eyes as she cleaned, judging.
"[Y'N]? C-Can you let me in? I-I'm not all that good with comforting, b-but I can try.." He said. He waited out by the door. The puppets still judging him as well. They stared into his soul. He hated his Bro for keeping them around. The gross videos he made always on his computer, cameras looking at them. Watching. God, it was weird to bring people over. Whatever.
She grabbed the guaze. Wrapping it loosely around her left wrist. Body shaking. She looked into the mirror, flushing the toilet. The gross sound of the blade scratching against the glass made her ears hurt. She wiped her tears. She unlocked the door, looking down on the floor. Gaze on her feet.
Dave shakingly reached out to her wrist. Waiting for her to nod, before grabbing it. He unwrapped the bandages, before fixing them. He had gotten used to fixing bandages. After all the fights with his Bro, he was a pro at it. He reached out, and grabbed [Y'N]'s chin softly. His calloused hands leading out her out to his room, shutting the door to it.
The room was warm, fans spinning. His computer on, dresser messy. He had tried to clean, but still. His photos of them were up, devolping. The window open. The gross smelling taxidermy sat on his shelf. He pulled her down to his bed. He wiped her tears. "I know what it feels like." He said. He stood up, letting go of her. He went into his nightstand, grabbing out of for the pocket knife. A much larger blade. "Used this whenever I felt weak. Thought it would make me feel better." He set it down. "I don't use it anymore. Just keep it, just in case." He said. His stoic expression faltered for a moment. He took off his sunglasses, wiping his eyes before putting them on again.
Her eyes widened as she looked at it. She wiped the last of her tears. Face red, she wiped her nose with the collar of her shirt. She felt him reach out and grab her right arm.
He grabbed out a sharpie, drawing a small butterfly on her arm. "There. Anytime you think about it, just think about killing this butterfly. It's what helped me in dark times." He said, before setting the sharpie down. He sat beside her, and wrapped his arms around her shoulder. He turned on his TV, turning on a cheesy romance movie for them to watch. To distract from all this. "I'll always be here for you." He said.