Scraps (Scomiche)

Craving (part 3)

A/N: Hello loves! Just a little update for you. I'm sorry if it's messy and there are some mistakes, I wrote the last part while I was drugged up at the hospital ( hey, they give good stuff lol ) and I tried to edit as much as I could.

 Before we start, just a quick request. There will be a last part of this, but I can't decide. Will you help me? Just comment a number from 1 to 3, so it'll be easier to choose :) And now, enjoy.

I hope to be back in track soon, and hopefully have a Seeing Through update out next week.. I just need time at my laptop, which is annoyingly hard. Sigh. I'll see you soon! 

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Scott feels like he's been crying for years. In the end, it's been just a couple of hours, but he feels so spent that when he takes a look at the clock he's surprised to find out that it's still the same day. It shouldn't be possible to feel that much sadness in so little time.

He hasn't moved a single muscle in all that time - he's still crumpled on the floor, wearing only his boxers, his legs asleep from the weight of his dead body. His phone starts ringing, and he closes his eyes, hoping it would stop soon, but he has no such luck. It rings and rings but he doesn't move a finger towards it - he doesn't have the strength. He doesn't know how much more he stays like that, eyes fixated on the carpet, but he counts four missed calls and at least a bunch of texts. When his body finally remember that it's alive, he decides to stand up and move slowly towards the bathroom, not really thinking about what he's doing.

When he looks up in the mirror, after splashing cold water on his face, he barely recognize himself: his eyes are puffy and bloodshot, his nose stuffed from all the sobbing, his face red and tears streaked. Every single feature of his face screams heartbreak and pain and loss.

He pities himself. He closes his eyes and for a moment he wishes he could go back to when it all started, to avoid the painful feeling of his heart beating against his chest.

He goes back to his room, taking in his surroundings, his mind spinning with pictures of him all around: Mitch's body pressed on a wall; half hiding in the closet to help him choose an outfit; sprayed on the bed beside him, laughing at silly things; laying down naked, looking predatory and gorgeous and everything that Scott had ever wanted.

The last image that crosses his mind is Mitch's face, looking up at him, teary eyed for the pain he's about to inflict.

Scott suddenly feels like he can't breathe anymore. His chest is heavy and pressing from the inside, his ears are ringing and his whole body is numb, like he's not in control anymore.  He never experienced it before, but it doesn't take long for Scott to realize that he's having a panic attack. As soon as he recognize the issue for what it is, it starts to increase. He tries to relax and remember what they told him to do in this case - he forces himself to breathe. In and out, in and out, he sternly force himself to inhale and then exhale, trying to ignore the tears that are starting to fall again from his tired eyes.

Every breath feels like something is holding him too tight, his lungs are crumpled and it's hard to fill them with air. He tries to relax, starting to feel like there's not enough oxygen in his body - at least that's what he thinks it means the dizziness he's starting to feel.

He takes his phone, knowing that he needs help, but he stops before dialing any number, realizing he doesn't know who to call. His parents are miles away, and he doesn't want to worry them with the stupid decisions he had made in the last year. He scrolls his contact list, forcing himself to call someone, because he knows he can't deal with all of this alone. He needs a shoulder to cry on, someone understanding that would be there for him without judging.