Chapter II| Built Up Anxiety.

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Attention; If you are sensitive to self-inflict, I can be very, very descriptive. If you are sensitive to any of the following-

Melancholy(Depression).
Self-infliction(Self-harm).
Psychotic episodes.
Paranoia.

I do not reccomend my book if you are sensitive to the following. But, anyways!

✿Enjoy~.

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❝Chapter II| Built Up Anxiety.❞
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✿Date made; July 22nd, 2019.
✿Timing; One day, between breaks.
✿Characters; Nightmare!Sans, Cross!Sans, X!Chara.
✿Tags; #Crossmare, #Nightcross #Crightmoss #SubmissiveNightmare #DominantCross #Boyxbox #LGBT #Gay #Cute #Funny #Sad #Depressing

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Morning time.

8;55 ante meridiem, before midday. The black-oily covered skeleton did not rest once, repetitive thoughts roaming through his mind.

With the other, Cross was in a full-blown panicking mode, silently screaming with strings of curses to himself.

"D-damn it... Nightmare..." The monochromatic-dressed skeleton croaked, punching the wall that was infront of him with his right fist, clenching his teeth.

"I hate myself... I hate for what I said..."

"To my one and only flower."

Within the smaller's room, he no longer could cope with his own self. Voices... they wouldn't stop, they wouldn't stop screaming at this vulnerable little skeleton.

"M-make it stop... make it stop..." The small feebly squeaked out, having his hands upon his head. That was when, he only had began to hit it against the wall.

Each time, he hit his head harder, to where a small, light crack had began to seep it's way atop of Nightmares frail head.

Downstairs, it was so quiet. It was almost eerie. Even after a small argument like that, no matter what, Nightmare always would have been within the corner of the living room, writing and scrolling through his journal. Most of the time though, he would be reading a book.

Everything just felt very... off today. It did not feel great, not at all. Even so, this actually was frightening Chara. He may have been rude to Nightmare within the past, possibly even two days ago, but that does not mean that he hates him. Somewhere within, he did care for the smaller skeleton.

"Something does not feel right... Cross?"

Hearing his name, Cross turned his attention to Chara, having a blank expression for a split second, before it changed to worry. "It's my fault... I hurt him. What if he...-"

"Hurts himself? We all know Nightmare wouldn't do that." Nervously, Chara giggled a bit. He knew he couldn't deny it, though. At least, not this time.

They both felt strong surges of negativity, it was almost palpable, it did not feel like the smaller's normal negativity, as it felt more intense. Meaning, he must be in great distress.

"I'm going to che-..." Cross' trailed off from his sentence almost immediately, tensing up, his eye-lights disappearing from his eye-sockets. A sudden screech, a cry of pain, it almost was echoing from upstairs, to where they were now. It sounded a lot like Nightmare, and it was.

Without question, Cross teleported into Nightmares room. He did not care if he knocked or not. His friend's safety was upmost important to him more than anything in the world.

Beforehand, before Cross had teleported, Nightmare was shaking like a leaf in the very corner of his room, a blade to his wrist, droplets of blood hitting onto the floor.

...Drip...drip...drip...

A small, but sharp razor blade, thinner than paper if possible, had he been slicing it amongst his arms. Nightmare first, started at the top of his left arm, pressing the thin blade amoungst his top arm with slight pressure, sliding it across like no tomorrow. It was not even a second until the cut had began to bleed, forming into little dots of blood upon it, cascading down his arm.

Nightmare could not help it, other than having an almost insane smile on his face, almost like this was satisfying his anger, and sadness that was rotting him on the inside.

One and another one. One after another, some of the cuts collided ontop of one another, diagonally sliced and vertically cut. Finally finished from wrist to his shoulder, his arms were shaking, shakily taking his hand as he pulled down his sleeve, his blood drenching his sleeve, most of it seeping through the sleeve, and onto the floor.

With his right arm, he did not have as much success as he thought that he would have. It was only a mistake, nowhere near minor. Nightmare accidentally put too much pressure. It does not take much to be cut with a razor blade, but with too much pressure onto the body, things can go south very quickly, and that is where things went.

He slid it across too fast upon his wrist, much too harshly. Blood practically squirting out of it for a second, before he really began to bleed out. Nightmare's breathing hitched, choking on air, a screech of pain emitted from the small, pained skeleton, dropping the blade to the floor in the process.

Now, in the present.

Blood... so much goddamn blood. Cross felt his nonexistent stomach turn upside-down, his breathing hitching. "O-oh my god..." He nearly paled.

His eyes scanned every inch of the small, trembling skeleton's body that shook within the corner of the dimly lit room.

Appearing, Chara already had a medical first aid in hand, with cleaning alcohol, bandages and ointment. "N-Nightmare...?" He gently whispered, slowly floating over to the smaller, as Cross followed along, but walked slow, in making sure to not startle the small one.

So... so blurry. That voice that called out to the smaller, it sounded so blurred within Nightmare's mind. He looked so sick, weak and frail, needing to be treated gently, with much care and love.

And, that is what the two were going to do.

"C...c-c...co...c-c..c-c-col...cold..." Nightmare weakly spoke to himself, the blood loss was already taking a large toll on his small frame.

Now crouched infront of him, Cross gently cupped Nightmare's face with his hands, gently rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. "I know, I know it's cold, but please don't close your eyes. Don't sleep, Nightmare. Don't sleep."

"Can you do that for me...?"

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✿Character count- 5482.
✿Words- 954.
✿Sentences- 82.
✿Paragraphs- 33.

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