How the Rose Got it's Color

0.1|| are you okay?

If you haven't read the intro thing please please read it, I will not be putting TW on my chapters for this one.

No use of nick as sapnap has stated he is uncomfortable with it. 

The harsh sketching of the pencil on Karl's paper makes the lines he is drawing darker and darker, and the pencil duller and duller.

Finally, the led snaps, and he sighs, pulling his pen from the pocket of his bag.

He winces scarcely as he feels a fresh mark find pressure under the twist of his body. He smiles softly at the kid who gave him a weird look.

Sure on the outside, Karl was the cuddly sunflower boy with poofy hair and an assortment of sweaters. But it went deeper than that layer he put on.

Depressed. Suicidal. Bi. Exhausted. Failure. Scarred. Neglected. All Karl.

The bell rang, and he was out of the classroom by the end of the sound.

"Karl!" A voice calls from behind him. He stops midstep and withholds himself from groaning out loud before he rolls his eyes and turns.

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, kicking his scuffed shoe on the floor, wondering why the running back of the football team was talking to him.

"We're uh, partners for the history project, I'm...I just thought we should exchange snaps or numbers or something," Sapnap breathes, digging in his pocket for his phone.

Karl digs in his jeans, ripped and dirty from his phone, and opens the Snapchat app, adding Sapnap back as the raven had already added him.

"I'll snap you," Sapnap waves before running off, calling his friend's name. Karl shakes his head and adjusts one of his rings as he walks to the bus, plopping down in the near front. Waiting for the smelly and dreaded ride home, dreading his house even more.

He knew his father wouldn't be home until Monday, probably off drinking, but once he got home, he had to go to work, and he was dreading work.

Sure it was fine, working at a bookstore wasn't bad, but he didn't want to go to work, he just wanted to fall senselessly asleep forever. That's all he ever wanted.

He got home, changed into his work clothes, and started the old deadbeat car he had saved for. He only used it to get to work.

He walks into the store, clocking in, and giving a small wave to Callahan, who joyfully bounds over to him. Karl liked Callahan's company, he didn't talk his ear off, probably because he couldn't talk at all, and he knew what Karl needed at the time.

"You and I are restocking today I guess," Karl smiles, Callahan nods and Karl follows him to the new shipment of books and CDs that had come in.

Opening the first box he huffs, glaring at the bundles of paper and cardstock as if they killed his dog, and begins organizing them by area on the empty carts next to him.

Callahan pokes his shoulder and gives him a sad smile before scribbling something down on a small pocket notebook he carries around and hands it to Karl. Are you okay?

"I'm good, just tired," Karl nods to him, before setting another book onto the pile and standing up, pushing the cart to the fantasy area.

The problem with Karl and working at a bookstore was that reading seemed to be one of the only things he loved anymore. Reading was an escape for him, so he got distracted fairly easily.

Work went by slower than ever, and by the time Karl gets to his car, he feels like dying, more than usual.

When he gets home, it's the same routine as every Friday, stringing his earbuds through his shirt, shuffling his library, and grabbing the cleaning supplies.

Clean the house, light a candle, go upstairs, wish he could cry.

Every. Single. Weekend.

He finds himself a mess as he desperately rummages over his desk, swearing as he knocks over a bunch of stuff on the scratched-up wood.

"Fuck!" He cries out, clenching his fists as he finally finds the silver blade he's been searching for. He stumbles to the bathroom, a mess as he falls into the bathtub.

With every break into his skin, the blood covers his arms and thighs, painting them crimson. The sight satisfies him and it feels like everything people want from him is falling over his wrists and into the porcelain tub.

Finally.

When he feels he's done enough for the night, he stands and discards his clothes, avoiding the blond expertly, having done this many times before. He turns the shower on and lets the water run the bitter reminders down the drain.

The water drains, red swirling around the drain and in the bottom of the shower.

He washes and picks up his clothes in a bundle. He checks his notifications for the first time since he got off the bus and clicks on Sapnap's Snapchat from a few hours ago.

Hey, it reads, with a picture of his shoulder, the view of the school over it.

Karl sends back a picture of his pillow, his damp hair in the view from the corner of the screen. Hi, sorry I haven't checked my phone since this afternoon.

Karl's response is almost immediate. It's a simple picture of Sapnap's wall, a Texas flag hung up with his face slightly in view. The text on the screen reads no you're good what have you been up to?

Karl scoffs, looking around his dark bedroom. Oh yeah, trying not to kms, the usual. He sighs, the brightness of the lights up his room like lightning in a thunderstorm, and he types back, nothing but work, wby?

The awkward first few snaps blend into easy conversation, and eventually, the conversation ends when Karl concludes Sapnap falls asleep.

Rolling over, he pulls his blankets close as he tries to drift off to sleep.

And we are back with another homo book, I dunno when next update will be, more don't expect to get as much support as my other one did, but this one is going to be fun.

Everyone experiences depression and other mental illnesses differently, this is how I experienced it, this book is mot a map of how mental illnesses feel/work. 

Can't wait for this one!

-luni