Injuries (Damian x Anya)

1.1K 31 3
                                    

Anya and Damian are both in 8th grade in this story. Just to keep a little immaturity but still be mature enough to know about suicide and depression and stuff. 

And as you can see, I decided to be productive and publish 2 chapters in 2 days. (Although it's a little short)

Praise me! (Jk)

ANGST AND SELF HARM WARNINGS! 

Enjoy! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You commoner!" 

I'm sorry! I don't mean to bully you, it just happens. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. 

"You don't deserve to be 2nd place."

You're amazing to get 2nd place! I'm jealous that you get praised for being 2nd. If only that was my household. I don't mean what I say. I'm just mad...

"Stop hanging around with me!"

Please don't stop! You're the only one that helps me get through the day. But Father says I can't be with a commoner...

"Are you crying? Crybaby!" 

Are you okay? Oh my gosh. I went too far didn't I.  I swear I can't control myself. I don't want this. I don't want to see you cry... Please stop!

"Take a hint. You are never going to be better than me." 

Just stop hurting her, myself! Stop! Stop!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fuck," Damian slammed his fist on the mirror of his bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was perfectly done, his clothes had no imperfections, but his face told a different story. Dark circles under his eyes, gaunt cheekbones, red eyes, eyes like a dead fish. 

"FUCK!" He was a mess. He couldn't go on like this. He just can't. What was wrong with him? 

"And I say all those mean things to Anya, I'm such a damn hypocrite..." Damian mocked himself, his eyes too dead to bother crying. 

"Why, Why, WHY!" He yelled, partly at himself, partly at no one. The side of his fist stung from the repeated beating of the mirror. It was what he deserved. He was sure that Anya felt even more hurt. 

"I'm so pathetic..." He angrily dug his nails into his arm. 

Pain. 

Such delicious pain. 

The only thing he could make himself do. He deserved it anyway. 

"Where's the knife..." He rustled through the drawer underneath his drawer. Razor, Towel, Bandage, Rubbing Alcohol... 

"Ah, yes." Knife. 

Damian picked up the knife with shaking hands. No matter how many time he did this, he would still be scared. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed the knife's edge to his wrist. 

"On-e," the rusted blade made it harder for him to cut through his wrist. It caused more pain, but he deserved it...

"Tw-two..."

"Thr-ee"

"SY-ON BOY GUESS WHAT!!!" 

"An-nya?"

Gasp, "SY-ON BOY????"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya is an esper. If Anya ever tells anyone that Anya is an esper they will leave Anya. That's why Anya has to stay silent. Even if Becky is hurt, even if Sy-on boy's lackeys are hurt. Even if Sy-on boy is hurt...

"An-nya?" 

"SY-ON BOY??" 

Anya could see all the racing thoughts that Sy-on boy was having. The same words over and over again. 

Shit, she saw me. She's going to think I'm pathetic. Wait, she wouldn't even care. She probably thinks that I am just a bully to her. She's probably going to just walk away. God, I'm so pathetic. I'm so pathetic. I'm so pathetic...

"Sy-on boy? What are you doing? Are you ok?" Anya reached for Sy-on boy's arm. To her surprise she saw him pull away viscously. 

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I'm disgusting. 

Anya fell silent. Then gently, Anya took his hand in hers. Grabbing the rubbing alcohol and bandages Anya gently dabbed some alcohol onto a cotton ball and onto his arm. He hissed but Anya's grip stayed strong. 

"When you cut yourself, you have to be sure to take care of your injuries. Cause they don't heal very well on their own." Anya said quietly while dabbing the cotton ball. 

"Huh?" What is she saying?

"Injuries don't heal easily on their own. They need other humans to help them heal. That's why there are doctors. That's why there are friends. Injuries aren't done on purpose, or rather, not done on purpose in the right mind. 

"Injuries always have a story behind them. Just like scars. But unlike scars, injuries are fresh and they hurt when you touch them. But if you don't touch them, or dab them with rubbing alcohol, they will come back infected later on. Dabbing Rubbing alcohol by yourself hurts even more, that's why you have friends," Anya looked into Sy-on boy's eyes, "Do you understand?" 

The usual green of fresh summer leaves, were now a dark matcha green. A leaf that has been through a lot and survived it all to become a delicious tea. 

Anya's beautiful. 

"I'm sorry,"  I'm sorry Sy-on boy cried, tears falling down slowly. 

"Mhmm," Anya hummed her reply. 

"I'm sorry," I'm so sorry. 

"I know." 

"I'm sorry." I'm sorry. 

"I know."

"Thank you..." Thank you for everything Anya. 

"Your welcome."

The silence that fell after was comforting to both of them. The unspoken connection between them evident as Anya wrapped Sy-on boy's hand with bandages. 

Cause injuries don't heal easily, they need other people to help them heal. 

Spy x Family One ShotsWhere stories live. Discover now