angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

Lonely // Chris Evans

~trigger warning - mentions of self harm~

   The sun was irritated. You could tell by the way it fought through the cracks in the curtains, trying their hardest to shield your empty bedroom from its light, and how triumphantly it fell on the places it managed to force its way onto. You sighed and rubbed your eyes before sitting slowly, like you'd aged decades since the night before. Your tired joints clicked in protest, as unhappy with the movement as you were. The room was illuminated only by the slats of sunlight crashing inside, their illumination barely enough to see with. You still wished they wouldn't be quite so bright.

   Your phone buzzed with a text. Your heart flipped in your chest and your moves were lightened as you quickly picked the device up from your nightstand and instantly unlocked it. You knew the name you wanted - NEEDED - to see wouldn't be there, but the hope was irresistible, infectious, inexplicable. You tapped the notification, selectively deciding to not look at the name of the sender or the message they bared, and then, when it fully loaded on the screen, flicked your eyes over the text.

   It wasn't him.

   Just like that, any hope was killed so brutally you could feel it in your chest, aching like a gaping wound directly where your sinking heart lay. A choked sob slipped your lips before you pushed it back and away from thought, and you put your phone back down.

   It was a harsh double standard for you to expect him to text you first after you were too scared to do it yourself, but still the pain of knowing there was a high chance he hadn't thought about you since... since what happened... it was almost too much to bare. You wanted to curl up with his clothes and just breathe in his scent for hours, spend the rest of your days inhaling him until there was nothing more to inhale. A suppressed weep wracked your whole body and you bit the back of your hand to muffle the noise spilling from your mouth. You could feel your body protest against the denial of this natural reaction, but still you bit and tried to hold yourself together with your other arm because you could feel yourself falling apart and you needed to stay together and there was blood on your teeth so metallic and so bitter and yet you did not bring your mouth away, not until finally you felt your spasming chest calm. Then you let your hands fall in front of you, dejected and disappointed and so undeniably disgusted.

   You knew you should just stay in bed, avoid the kitchen at all costs, order Deliveroos to your bedroom window until your savings ran out and you died in bed surrounded by cheap take out.

   But that wasn't going to help anything.

   Your feet led your body to the bathroom across from the guest room you'd gone to sleep in. The first look in the mirror granted something of a shock - your hair was like a tumbleweed atop your head, mascara and eyeliner clouded your eyes with dirty, pained black that bled from when you'd cried and blood was smeared indelicately around your mouth in such a manner that made you want to vomit. A shaky few breaths were spent staring at your reflection before you reached for a comb and a hair tie, then mindlessly began to brush your teeth and wash your face until you were scrubbed so clean your skin looked raw. You carefully took your hair back out then stepped out of your dinner outfit, crumpled and creased and stained with wine, switching it for the loose trousers you found on the floor. You slipped a sweater over your head without thinking, then choked.

   Him.

   So strongly scented of him, filling your mind with memories of every time he'd held you and kissed you and showed you just how deeply he loved you-

   You tore it off with ragged breaths, throwing it at the floor and glaring at it in terror, as though it was to blame for this feeling. You blindly felt for something else, and your fingers found a vest top you knew was yours. You pulled it on violently and left the bathroom, knees still shaking.