Bit Into Your Love {SAPPHIC}

🩸Stinging Thoughts (pt.18)🩸

‼️TRIGGER WARNING‼️ THIS CHAPTER HANDLES VERY HEAVY TOPICS INCLUDING SELF HARM AND THINGS RESEMBLING DRUG USE

⚠️text 741741 for crisis help in the US or UK, text 686868 for help in Canada.
911 (emergency line) or 988 (crisis line) in the US.⚠️

⚠️The Trevor Project hotline for LGBTQ+ youth/suicide prevention: (866)-488-7386⚠️

(A/N, you are completely able to skip this chapter if any of the things mentioned above are triggering for you, I'll be providing a brief summary in the next chapter with no such topics mentioned :) happy reading!)

I did as she said, with wobbling legs I heaved myself up the stairs and creaked the door wide open into my bedroom.

I flopped onto my bed face-first into her sweatshirt. It was the 2000s kid emo aesthetic, but it was doused in her scent and reminded me of her. I couldn't help but keep inhaling, I couldn't stop, and I couldn't get enough.

It was hard not to force myself up and run out the door after her, but instead, I felt myself slowly start to fall asleep, because it felt like a small piece of her was there with me.

When I woke up and looked at the clock on my dresser, night coming near from the light peering in from the window, I knew she'd been gone longer than she should've been. The last time I'd gone after her, she'd gotten mad at me, she'd told me it was a suicide trip.

I decided to suck up my tears and wait for her.

Until a day had passed, and another.

I was frozen in my bed, snuggled up with the covers pulled up to my neck and her sweatshirt under my nose. I felt unmotivated, too tired to even think about getting up.

I hadn't eaten in those two days, but nothing was worth it if I wasn't with Cleo. The only trip I'd walked was to the bathroom that was upstairs.

All I could do to reassure myself was hope and pray that she'd come back. Although, it was clear that I had used up all my miracles for a while, because Harper had already saved both our lives that week.

I was worried about her more than I was worried about myself. I hoped she was safe, I hoped she wasn't dead. I remembered this feeling from the last time she'd left me, except this time, I had less motivation to find her and more despair and hopelessness streaming through me.

I wasn't able to cry anymore, I couldn't make tears form.

Why did everybody always leave me? Was I that much of a menace to be around? Why didn't anybody want me? Not even my own parents. Everyone had made it clear I was of no purpose.

I reached over with a weak hand and pulled my phone out from the drawer in my nightstand. I hadn't touched it in ages, but there were thoughts I shouldn't have been thinking circulating in my head, thoughts of death and self-harm.

I distracted myself with the cat games I had always used to play. The cute graphics helped a bit, but the despair still lingered in the back of my mind like a dark cloud looming over any possible positive sunlight.

I wanted it to go away, anything to make it go away. So maybe cats weren't enough, but pain was.

With a shaking hand, I put my phone on my pillow and sat up, tying Cleo's abandoned sweatshirt around my waist. I walked down to the kitchen, trailing my hand slowly down the railing like I used to, the harmonic sound sang from the wood.