Hey guys, I've had crazy writer's block and like my brain was kinda acting up a little and I pretty much lost all will to do anything, but I'm back!!! I'm so sorry, I was gone for almost a week like omfg that's crazy.
But I was real done with being gone, so here I am!! c: Yay!
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Delia's POV
Miles killled himself. He was gone. It was hard to come to grips with it, honestly. Hard to believe that he was gone. Hazel took it hardest, sobbing and crying and being dead in the brain for about a week, but I was numb to the grief. Until I read the letter again.
It was my fault he had died. It always would be. I chose Felix over Miles, and Miles ended his life pretty much because of me.
I thought about the upsides and downsides to it all as I pulled out my secret box of razors one day when Felix was at work and Sam had taken the twins to the park. Felix had tried to throw away all my razors, but he didn't know I hid some.
There were many downsides. I would lose progress in my healing. I could lose the twins. Felix might notice and get mad. But I wasn't thinking anymore. So I pulled a razor out and cut into my upper thigh, where no one could see. Where I could hide the cuts. I sliced, once, twice, three times, and laid back on the cool wooden floor of my bedroom, relishing in the sensation of pain and familiarity washing over me.
The blood slid down the curve of my legs and tickled me as it crept, dripping gently onto the floor.
The metallic smell was a comfort, the pain a blanket, and the razor an old friend.
But of course this wasn't a relapse. It was just a one time thing.
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Scarlet droplets fell gently off of the word I had just carved into my hip. "Felix" was what my hip read to me, where only I could see, where only I would know where it was.
The blood fell onto the tile of the shower floor, and I wiped some blood onto my finger and stared.
As I looked at the deep, dark, and dangerous red on my fingertips, I didn't know whether to be appalled, ashamed, or pleased.
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Felix's POV
"Never again," Delia had told me when I asked her when she planned to cut again. I was satisfied with the answer, and threw away her razors.
She lied, apparently, because when I went to shower, the water slipping into the drain was a deep crimson. The color of blood and water. The color you only get when you cut in the shower. I was naked and wet, so I slung a towel around my waist and stormed into the bedroom, stumbling upon Delia crying on the bed.
I sat on the corner of our bed, and held Delia to me, feeling blood seeping onto me and shuddering gently, but hugging her tighter nonetheless.
She bled out her soul and her feelings and everything onto my lap, and when I glanced at the slices, I was horrified to see my name, yet I held her ever closer with everything I had inside me.
I looked upon her scars, the words fat and ugly and sad and emo carved into her thighs, and now the word Felix, my name, rested upon her hip. I brushed my fingers gently over the raised bumps along her wrists, and felt the old pain and when I looked into her eyes, I saw the new pain.
Never again would she feel this way.
I was her saviour and her prince.
I would protect her, even if saving her sent me to heaven. That's what I told her on our wedding day, and I plan for it to be true until the day I die.
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I'm not feeling well enough for an author's note. Basically vote and comment and everything and I love you guys, I'm so sorry about the lack of updates and I love you all.
I'm so sorry. ---> over there is felix and the song that inspired this chapter.