𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟 (𝕂𝕒𝕞 𝕂𝕠𝕥𝕝𝕔)

«15» my fucking behav-

I apologise in advance for the angst.

TW: Self harm and homophobia

Keefe
Keefe's happiness and joy to have spent some of night on a rooftop with his boyfriend quickly disappeared as he arrived home that night. He braced himself for his Father's rant for how useless he is. Or maybe this time it would be about how disappointing he is. It was usually something along the lines of that anyway.

But instead of Lord Cassius immediately starting to yell at Keefe when he walked through the door, Cassius just stood there. His expression was ice cold, and if Keefe didn't know better he would've thought his father was paralysed. The regal elf stood with his back as straight as a board, hair slicked back elegantly. Keefe wasn't scared of his Father anymore, but something inside Keefe dreaded every moment of whatever this was.

Lord Cassius's son tentatively approached him. Keefe attempted to walk past Cassius to leave for his bedroom, but Cassius held out a stiff hand that blocked his path. His fingers were stiffened so tightly in the gesture that Keefe saw the tips becoming white.

"Look, I know I didn't finish all the work-"

"This is not about the work, Keefe." Cassius cut Keefe off, his steel eyes fixated on the marble floor. Cassius had the type of look in them that could pierce through anything.

After waiting in a moments silence, Keefe tried to shove past his Father again, but Cassius gripped his wrist—finally turning his eyes to meet Keefe's. With his cold fingers meeting the blonde boy's skin, Keefe's feeling of inner dread only escalated. From Cassius's touch, Keefe endured an entire new set of negative emotions that made him slightly nauseous.

"I saw you outside, with that boy." Cassius continued. Keefe felt as though every little good feeling and memory in his life was crumbling to a million pieces as his Father talked. Cassius continued. "You kissed him. I would have confronted you then and there if I wasn't absolutely dumbfounded by your disgusting behaviour towards him."

Every Keefe felt in that moment built up to rage in an instant. His heartbeat rang loudly in his ears and his fists clenched at his sides. "My behaviour towards him? My disgusting behaviour? You want to talk about my FUCKING BEHAV-"

"You are not to swear in this household." Cassius spoke, although it was louder than Keefe had ever heard him yell before. Which was shocking, considering all the years Keefe had spent with Cassius, being scolded nearly every day. "And you certainly aren't to see that stupid boy again."

Tears of anger and rage and frustration flowed down Keefe's face. He wasn't going to let Lord Cassius keep him away from Tam, regardless of what he said or did. Keefe pushed past his Father, going to his room. He could hear all the horrible things being shouted at him from the door, and listening to them made his blood boil.

Disgrace.

Horrific.

Unspeakable.

Keefe slammed the door to his room shut, locking it. He didn't know how long he stood there, hand on the door knob and head pressed to the wooden surface. His face was soaked in all of his emotions. He waited for the shouting to stop so that he could hear no more noises coming from the outside.

When he couldn't, a new sense of enragement coursed through him and he recklessly tore open the drawers to his dresser. Keefe rummaged throughout his belongings before finding his pocket knife. It had taken him a while, as the light was still switched off. His breathing was becoming more and more frantic now, and Keefe realised that he was having a panic attack.

He slumped against the wall, not at all trying to calm himself down in the moment. He unfolded the knife and pressed it against his inner upper arm, trailing the tip slowly across the skin as a thin red line of blood appeared. He continued cutting until the tears fogged his vision so much that he could barely see. Keefe sighed, now trying to focus on calming his breath back to it's previous and normal pace.

Cutting himself until physical pain overpowered mental pain wasn't a new concept to Keefe. Years of being told your worthless and being forgotten and compared will do that to you. He had been clean for months up until that point, but Keefe couldn't have resisted it in that moment. Not after his Father found out.

Keefe rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the stinging that resulted from his upper arm. Everything is okay, he told himself in his mind, repeating the phrase over and over and over in an attempt to make himself believe it. Finally, Keefe got up and stumbled to his bathroom, taking the pocket knife with him. The bright, white light that had suddenly appeared throughout the tiled room blinded him. He stared at himself in his reflection. His eyes were puffed and his face was pink, his figure shaking. His hair was still damp from the swim, and Keefe couldn't help smiling a little as he thought of Tam.

Tam.

Oh no.

What would Tam think about Keefe's actions to harm himself?

Keefe pushed the thoughts to the very back of his head. He wasn't even sure if he should tell Tam what had happened, yet. Keefe grabbed the bandages from the bathroom cabinet and tightly tied them around the cuts. He winced as it stung. He wiped the small trickles of blood that had protruded from the cuts with a tissue. Keefe turned on the tap and washed the knife he had used, leaving it in the cabinet when he was done. Maybe he would end up forgetting it was there and Keefe wouldn't think to harm himself next time.

Exhausted, Keefe wondered back into his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed. Crawling under the blankets, warm tears still somehow silently streamed down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. Eventually, Keefe drifted to a soft slumber, his dreams and mind blank.