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wisepainterperson · 11 months

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Chapter 6 of my andromeda six drabble collection.

🖤I Need You💛

blood, mentions of self harm, self harm.

The weight of the world rested heavily upon your shoulders as you mechanically finished yet another mundane task, the weariness etched into the lines of your face. The days seemed to blend together, an unending stream of monotonous routines, numbing your soul to the colors and joys that once filled your existence. But, in the depths of your heart, you clung to a distant glimmer of hope, a faint memory of your mother's tender words before you left that fateful day—words that now seemed like fragile echoes from a distant past.

Time had blurred since then, and life had taken you on a cruel journey, far from the sanctuary of your former happiness. Each step forward seemed to plunge you deeper into a void, a void left by the absence of those you once held dear. The life you once knew was shattered irreparably, leaving you adrift in an ocean of despair, with no beacon to guide you back to shore.

Your mind wandered back to those carefree days, the halcyon moments with your parents and him. The laughter resonated within your soul, the happiness a distant memory that threatened to break your heart. How swiftly it all changed, like a beautiful dream turned to a haunting nightmare. The memory of your father's joke, the last flicker of joy before the darkness descended, haunted you mercilessly.

As you stood lost in your thoughts, a sudden, booming voice jarred you back to reality, ripping you from the bittersweet reverie. You looked around, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, their gazes fixed upon you. And there, towering over you, stood the captain, a stern figure whose authority only seemed to emphasize the void in your heart. The weight of his disapproval added to the crushing burden you carried, as if the world itself was now your antagonist, conspiring against your very existence.

You wanted the tears to fall and to finally be able to release some of these pent-up emotions but alas, nothing. The contrast between your inner turmoil and the world's obliviousness to your pain felt like a cruel irony, isolating you even further. You longed for the comforting embrace of your loved ones, the warmth of their love to heal your wounded spirit, but they were now only memories fading with each passing day. In that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if all days would feel like this—endless cycles of suffering and emptiness.

"Are you deaf?" He began again and you could do nothing but look at him in a daze.

"What?" You ask dumbfoundedly, Captain Lynch did not appreciate this.

"What? I just asked you to move that stuff several times and you just ignored me that's what." He barks back quickly and again you are stunned to silence. His presence alone sent shivers down the spines of those under his command. As he towered over you, his eyes bore into your soul with a mix of irritation and contempt.

You wanted to muster the strength to explain yourself, to tell him that your mind was consumed by thoughts of loss and sorrow, but his hostile tone silenced you. Your silence only served to fuel his anger. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space.

"I don't tolerate insubordination on my ship," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "You're here to work, not daydream." Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words adding to the burden you already carried. His lack of empathy felt like a cold, sharp blade, cutting deeper into your wounded spirit. You yearned for a glimmer of kindness, a spark of humanity from this man who held so much power over your life, but it seemed like a futile hope.

"You know somehow you still surprise me with how far that stick is shoved up your ass Cal." One of your new crew mates had spoken up against him, as she did quite often. Ayame had apparently arrived on this ship with Calderon Lynch, obviously the were rather attuned to each other's ways.

Ayame met the captain's gaze with unwavering defiance, her eyes burning with the fire of someone who had been pushed to their limits. "I'm tired of watching you bully everyone on this ship, including this poor soul," she gestured towards you. "We're all human, with feelings and struggles, and you can't just stomp all over us like we're insignificant bugs."

He took a long deep breath in and released it while holding the bridge of his nose in aggravation, "No one's bullying you or anyone else. We have less than half an hour to hall ass off this gods' forsaken planet or we'll all be reduced to dust, and I don't think now is when we need to be distracted." he begins.

"Couldn't you have just said that." You manage to contort just loud enough that both can hear. Calderon seems less than amused but Ayme takes it and throws it at him again.

"Yeah, you don't have to be so mean about it." Captain Lynch's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his jaw visibly tensing. He was not used to admitting fault, let alone to someone who had recently joined the crew.

Ayame's words seemed to have struck a chord with Captain Lynch, and for a moment, you sensed a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. But that moment quickly passed, replaced by his customary stoic facade. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its authoritative edge.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Captain Lynch retorted, his voice laced with disdain.

Ayame stood her ground, undeterred by his attempt to belittle her. "Maybe or Maybe not, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people like garbage," she replied with a steady voice. "We're all in this together, and we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down."

Captain rolls his eyes and walks away with a grumble, yet again you've done something to earn his disapproval. You've been on this crew for all of 3 months and you've managed to lose his shoes somewhere between the laundry and his room, burn and boil over his coffee, and break his favorite mug. Needless to say, you weren't friends by any means but that didn't mean that you didn't think about if you were. Actually, you'd thought about him in many ways, many that would more than likely looked down upon if there were to ever come to light, but you talk to no one anyway.

"Don't worry about him." Brought out of your thoughts once again, this time by a much kinder voice.

"Yeah, no, he was right. I shouldn't be so distracted." You say defeatedly, dragging yourself over to the pile of boxes that had tumbled over.

"So, your content to roll over and let him treat you like that?" She joins you in picking up the scattered objects and helps you put them back into the wooden crate.

"No, just don't feel like arguing." you say softly.

"She also likes him and doesn't want to step on his toes, you know, any more than she already has." You hear a familiar tone that you tried to avoid at all costs but here and now there was nowhere to run.

"Somehow you seem more insufferable as the days drag on." you state clearly annoyed at his teasing. You didn't spare him a glance but could hear his army boots hitting the floor as he sauntered ever closer. He comes to sit on the balls of his feet in front of you both, his arm carelessly laying over the side of the box and he eats his cookie.

"Well, I'd say t got better but then, technically, I'd be lying." Sarcasm dripped from every word that spilled from his mouth and for some reason it was always just the right thing to get under your skin. Damon was the constant irritation in the back of your mind, the fly buzzing in your ear, or the thorn from a cactus that you simply can't seem to find. He was fast, smart, and dangerous, your typical girls dream and her father's worst nightmare.

As Damon continued his teasing and sarcastic remarks, you felt your frustration growing. He had a knack for pushing your buttons, and it seemed like he took great pleasure in doing so. Ayame shot Damon a disapproving look before turning her attention back to you.

"Don't listen to him," Ayame said reassuringly, her voice softer and more empathetic than Damon's.

You appreciated Ayame's understanding, but Damon's presence was like a dark cloud that overshadowed any comfort you might find in her words. Despite your annoyance, there was something magnetic about him, and you couldn't deny the strange allure he held over you.

Damon flashed you a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, taking another bite of his cookie. "I'm just here to provide some entertainment."

"I don't need your entertainment," you replied tersely, trying to maintain your composure.

"Come on now, don't be so cold," Damon teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'm just trying to brighten up your day. You look like you could use a good laugh."

His comment hit a nerve, and you felt the tears welling up again. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down." You say standing and brushing yourself off in a crude attempt to wipe away the anger you were feeling.

"If you aren't feeling well maybe you should go see- " You assured her that you just needed to lay down and you'd be feeling much better later. As you walked closer to the loading docks doors you could hear her scold him and make him take your place in cleaning up the spilled boxes. There was very little left to do before take-off and you were sure that the rest of the crew was more than capable of handling it.

You stepped out of the loading docks and into the corridor, the weight of the recent events and the encounter with Damon still weighing heavily on your mind. Each step back to your room felt like a struggle, as if an invisible force tried to hold you back, preventing you from finding solace. The ship's corridors were usually bustling with activity, but now they seemed eerily quiet, amplifying the isolation you felt.

As you walked, the memories of happier times with your family flooded your thoughts again. You yearned to turn back the clock, to undo the irreversible events that led you to this desolate state. But life doesn't offer second chances, and you were left grappling with the unyielding reality that you were alone on this journey.

The darkness in your thoughts intensified, as if the ship itself conspired to push you further into the abyss of despair. Every flickering light seemed to mirror the fleeting hope within you, only to be swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness once more. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you in the silence and solitude.

As you passed by the crew members going about their tasks, their laughter and camaraderie felt distant, almost alien. It was a stark reminder of the chasm between you and everyone else. They had their bonds and relationships, but you were merely a passing shadow in their lives.

You finally reached your room, a small, confined space that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The walls seemed to close in even tighter as you entered, and you collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you, threatening to crush whatever hope was left in your heart.

In the solitude of your room, your mind revisited the memories that brought you pain. Each thought was a knife, piercing your heart, and you couldn't escape the relentless assault of grief and loss. The past was an unyielding captor, unwilling to release you from its grip.

As time passed, the ship's engines hummed with a low, rhythmic sound, a constant reminder of the journey forward. But as much as the ship moved physically, you felt emotionally stagnant, trapped in a cycle of despair that seemed never-ending.

The darkness outside the small window mirrored the darkness within you. Your heart longed for healing, for light to break through the gloom and show you a path forward. But in the grip of your grief, it was hard to see beyond the overwhelming emotions that engulfed you.

You know how to fix this. The voice in your head began, it liked to haunt you, to taunt you in these times. "No." You groaned out rolling over onto your side to stare blankly at the drawing from bash that were scattered among the walls.

Why not? No one will know and if it makes it go away then no harm. No harm what a laugh. Unhealthy habits die hard, that's what you'd learned to tell yourself. You'd tried the ice and salt, you'd tried drawing on your arms with markers, even snapping yourself with a rubber band but nothing really helped. Not like that use to.

Exactly, so why not one last time? Your thoughts were louder now, more confident, snider. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, plopping down into chair in front of yourself and opening the drawer to your left. That was the desk you kept your art supplies, your drawing pad, and the knife Damon had given you. "For protection," He'd said.

The sound of the lights buzzing overheard spilled over into your thoughts as you pondered the decision you were about to make, the fall from grace you were about to have. You grabbed the knife and laid it flat on the table, running your thumb over the smooth metal. You had cut your wrists before but this would be different. Different because it'd been 3 long years of sobriety you'd be looking in the face and ignoring.

The thought of all the pain you were about to put yourself through was almost enough to stop you. Your hands trembled as you held the knife, ready to make your last cut. Your breath hitched and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

That's it, do it. Let yourself have that relief, give yourself one last break. The voice taunted you, "It's not a break, I'll be in control." You replied out loud, your grip tightening on the handle. You began to rub it up and down the inside of your left wrist, creating a light, teasing cut. Your hands began to shake again, and your stomach churned as the blade danced across your flesh.

You were going to hurt, but you would survive. The pain was temporary, the freedom from the torment was worth every second of agony. You closed your eyes, trying to block out all thoughts and just feel. One became two, two became five, and soon your arm looked like a cutting board, but it isn't hurt and neither did your heart any longer.

A knock on your door draws you from world you'd created in your mind, suddenly reality hits you like an ocean wave. "Uh- One second!" You managed to get out in a shaky voice, suddenly feeling guilty and embarrassed about what you'd been doing. You weren't ashamed of cutting or why you did it but you were still worried about what others might think of you.

You grabbed some tissues and did your best to clean your arm, though it was already starting to bruise and looked quite bloody. You put the knife away and turned your attention to your door again. You weren't in the mood for company, but it was probably Ayame again. Hastily you wrap tissue around your arm and throw on your jacket before walking over to your door and hitting the panel to open.

If it had been Aya you would have been prepared even a little aggravated but when your eyes met the deep blues of Captain Lynch's you froze like a deer in head lights and instinctively hide your arm behind your back.

"Can I come in?" He ask in an exasperated huff of air. You're not sure why he's here, but you certainly weren't going to turn down a chance to talk to him.

"Sure," You reply as you move out of the doorway to allow him in, "what can I do for you?" You ask again, this time a little more awkwardly.

He walks in examining your room as if he were the judge of some show. "Its been brought to my attention that I've been unnecessarily cruel to you and I'm here to apologize." He says finally turning to address you.

"Ayame really laid into you didn't she." You say jokingly crossing the room and sitting in the desk chair you'd just been in, you notice the drawer still slightly ajar and shut it quickly before responding. He gives you a look as if to say, yes you are correct while running his fingers over the leaves of the plant Ryona had given you to keep you company.

"Well, no harm no foul right." You say nonchalantly hoping he'd take that as his cue to scurry off back to his big chair that sits smack dab in the middle of the control room. "It's also been brought to my attention that you've been isolating yourself in your room more often then usual," he says, again eyeing your room with an inquisitive gaze. "And I feel like I may have added to that," he continues and sits down in the small chair in front of your desk. "I think I need to tell you something."

You aren't sure what to say or do at this point, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach, but you can't help but feel like this is going to end badly. You want to speak up, but you can't seem to find the words to say, you can't seem to break out of the silence you've become trapped in.

Thankfully you were both interrupted by Ayame calling Captain Lynch to the front and for the first time in what seemed like forever you took a breath. "Seems like that need you on the bridge." You say under your breath trying to avoid eye contact.

"Indeed," he says getting up from the chair and looking out the window. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so harsh with you. I didn't know you'd lost your family or that your father was such an asshole." You cleared your throat uncomfortably and turned away without another word. Seeing as the conversation had struck its natural conclusion he took his leave.

The trip was going to be a long one, but you weren't ready to open up and be vulnerable. You knew you needed to but you didn't want to, it was a lot easier to just keep everything to yourself. But eventually the dam would break, and when it did it would be catastrophic.

As you made your way back to the small window in your room, you could hear the ship's engines begin to turn on and rumble to life and it wasn't too long after that they everyone was called to the bridge to be strapped in. On the bridge, Ayame and Captain Lynch were busy preparing for the ship's departure. Ayame was preparing the system for flight while the captain sat in his big chair, observing everything with a watchful eye. As you entered, they both acknowledged you, but you kept your distance, not wanting to engage in any conversation at the moment.

"Well if it isn't the recluse." You could hear Damon say as he waltzes up behind you. You turn to face Damon, His sly grin only added to your already troubled mood. "The walls of your room must miss you," he adds with a chuckle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to brush off his teasing. "Yeah, well, I prefer my own company," you retort, trying to keep the conversation short.

Damon raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your response. "Sure, sure, the great mystery of the galaxy brooding in their room," he replies, feigning drama. "But seriously, are you ever going to join us normal people on the bridge? You know, to witness the beauty of space or something."

You clench your jaw, feeling more agitated by his taunts. "I'll be there when I feel like it," you mutter, attempting to move past him and head to the bridge.

However, Damon steps in front of you, blocking your path. "Now, now, don't get all huffy," he smirks, placing a hand on his chest in mock innocence. "We just miss having you around, that's all. It's been so happy without your emo vibes."

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the anger boiling within you. "Happy without my 'emo vibes'? You've got a real talent for being a jerk, Damon," you snap, unable to hide your irritation anymore.

Damon's grin falters for a moment, seemingly surprised by your reaction, but it quickly returns as he brushes it off. "Whoa there, calm down," he says, trying to act nonchalant. "Just trying to lighten the mood, you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe pick a different approach next time," you retort, taking a step back, ready to leave. The last thing you want is to spend any more time dealing with Damon's antics.

But just as you turn to walk away, Damon reaches out and grabs your wrist firmly causing you to yank it back with a yelp of pain. The room froze and everyone seemed to stop and look towards you and Damon. You'd instinctively grabbed your wrist and begun to hold it to your chest as your eyes glanced over the many other pairs of eyes that now watched you both.

"You're bleeding." the captain says, rising from his chair but you take another step back towards the door. Your world seemed to be collapsing around you with every second that passed. The room fell silent as everyone watched the tense interaction between you and Damon. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and anger mixed with fear was bubbling inside you. The pain in your wrist seemed to intensify as you held it against your chest, trying to hide it from everyone's view.

Captain Lynch took a step forward, his expression now serious and concerned. "Are you alright? Let me see your wrist," he said gently, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm fine," you replied, trying to muster up a brave front, but your voice quivered slightly.

Damon's earlier smirk was replaced with a look of genuine concern, and maybe even anger, "He wasn't asking." at this moment you were more afraid of the look Damon was giving you then the man twice his size that was still reaching out to your arm.

"I said no!" was all you said before turning around sprinting out the door and down the metal corridors.

As you ran through the corridors, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of emotions. Fear, anger, and confusion all tangled together, making it hard to think clearly. You had to get away from Damon and everyone else, finding solace and safety in the only place you knew—the familiarity of your own room.

You sprinted through the ship, your mind solely focused on reaching the sanctuary of your quarters. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You didn't want to be seen like this, weak and vulnerable. As you approached your room, you fumbled with the panel to open the door, your hands trembling from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

Once inside you let them come to a close and lock the doors behind you, sliding down against it until you were sitting on the floor. Your breaths were ragged, and you finally allowed the tears to flow freely down your cheeks. The pain in your wrist, both physical and emotional, felt overwhelming.

You didn't understand why Damon's actions had affected you so deeply. Yes, he was rude and insensitive, but there was something about his grab that triggered a painful memory, reminding you of your past and the loss you had endured. Your father's abusive behavior flashed before your eyes, and the wounds that had never fully healed were ripped open once more.

Feeling the weight of your emotions becoming too much to bear, you reached for the small plant that Ryona had given you. Holding it close to your chest, you tried to find some comfort in its presence, as if its mere existence could help soothe the turmoil inside you.

As time passed, the commotion outside your room died down, and the ship's engines hummed steadily. You could still hear faint voices, but you did your best to block them out. You didn't want to confront anyone right now, especially not Damon or Captain Lynch.

It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on your door. You didn't respond, hoping that whoever it was would assume you were busy or resting. After a while they went away and you were left in silence again, watching the stars pass by had helped some but the constant wrenching of your heart seemed to only grow as the moments passed. It was late enough that no one would be awake and there was always one place you liked to go.

You dragged yourself from your bed and changed the bandages on your arms before leaving your room as quietly as possible. The halls were dark, and most were already snug in their beds and attempting to sleep over the noise of the engine. Finally, you made it to the lower levels of the ship, just before you reach the dock, there was a large window that seemed to jut out of the side of the ship. When sitting there you almost feel as if you're floating through space in your own bubble.

You sat by the large window, your knees pulled up to your chest, and your arms wrapped around them. The stars outside flickered, painting the vast canvas of space with their distant light. The gentle hum of the ship's engines provided a comforting background noise, lulling you into a sense of peace despite the turmoil within.

You stared out into the endless void, lost in thought. The events of the day, the confrontation with Damon, and the unexpected interaction with Captain Lynch weighed heavily on your mind. You couldn't help but replay the memories of your past, the painful moments you had tried so hard to bury.

Deep down, you knew that running away from your emotions wouldn't solve anything. You needed to confront the pain, the anger, and the fear that you had been carrying for so long. But it was easier said than done. Opening up, being vulnerable, and facing the past was terrifying, and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.

As you sat there, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn around; you didn't need to know who it was. Part of you hoped it was Ayame, understanding and compassionate, but another part feared it might be Damon or even Captain Lynch, wanting to address what had happened earlier.

The footsteps halted behind you, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a voice broke through, hesitant and awkward. "I'm sorry," Captain Lynch said softly. This made you turn and glance at him from over your shoulder, he wasn't clad in his usual uniform, instead he wore a simple t-shirt and joggers. Like this he seemed far less intimidating than before.

"Why are you apologizing?" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before responding. "It's not your fault," you said, your voice catching slightly.

Captain Lynch hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for the right words to say. "I should have handled the situation with Damon better. I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point where you felt the need to run away," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of regret.

You turned your gaze back to the stars, finding some comfort in the distant lights that seemed to listen without judgment. "It's not your responsibility to babysit me or control how others behave," you replied, trying to sound strong, but your voice wavered.

He sat down beside you, his eyes also fixed on the cosmic expanse. Seeing him like this next to you made him seem comedically bigger than everything around him and it made you smile. "Maybe not, but I care about the crew, and I care about you," he said quietly.

What? He what? "Captain listen-" You began but he stopped you short.

"Calderon." He corrected his eyes still firmly fixed ahead of him.

"Calderon." You repeated. "I really appreciate it, and I hope we can put this behind us but I think we both know that it won't happen." You confess trying not to sound bitter about it. "So you can just drop me off the next planet you get to and I'll figure the rest out. "

You sigh turning away from him and back towards the window. You could feel a lump forming in your throat and you felt the tears threatening to spill over once more. You wouldn't be able to hide your feelings much longer and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you break.

"I don't want to drop you off," Calderon says softly. "I want you to stay. I want to help you."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" You ask with a shaky voice. "I'm not worth it."

Calderon reached out and gently brushed his fingers across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected contact and looked up into his soft blue eyes. "You're worth it. And I want to help you because I like you." Calderon says softly.

You weren't sure what to say, how do you respond to that, "You can't just say stuff like that." Was all you could muster.

"Ok well, A. I'm the captain and last i checked I can say what I want. " He says wearing a smug smile, you could see he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes and you were sure he could notice the steady blush talking over your cheeks.

"And B?" You question, feeling a bit emboldened.

"Well, I guess you'll have to find that out," he said with a sly grin. You could feel your face burning as you tried to look away from him, and he chuckled softly before standing up and holding out his hand to help you up.

"I'll let you get back to your brooding, but I'd like you to talk Ryona about your arm." he said but once you were standing again you simply shook your head.

"I'm ok." you say, holding your arm close to your body again. He gave you a knowing look but nodded and left you to your thoughts.

***

When you began to make it back to your room, you tried your best to compose yourself, using your jacket sleeves to muffle your sniffles. You couldn't believe what had happened, but you couldn't help the feelings it stirred within you. He liked you? You couldn't help but replay those words in your head. It was one thing for him to say it happenstancely, but he'd really said it.

It took all your willpower not to run down the hall screaming that he likes you, you like him, it was a perfect moment. And yet, it made you feel even more conflicted. The conflict was part of the reason you'd been avoiding everyone. The thought of everyone knowing about the pain you carried, the memories that haunted you, terrified you. You weren't ready to face it, to confront it, not yet.

You knew you needed to speak with Ryona about your arm, you could see the bruises forming and the blood from the cuts seeping through. You walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, maybe tomorrow.

As the door slid open, your breath caught in your throat and your face burned with embarrassment. Your bed was a mess and clothes were strewn all over the floor. Damon had been through your things, going through your private things. You were about to let out a yell of anger and frustration when you saw Damon standing beside your desk, holding up the knife you'd used to hurt yourself before.

"I told you to be careful with it, " he was definitely not his normal cocky and charming self. No he was angry, more angry then you'd ever seen him.

You took a step towards him, clenching your fists. "Why were you going through my things? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You felt the heat rise to your face again as your frustration boiled over. You had a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of emotions you wanted to release, but none of them seemed to make it past your lips.

Damon turned around to face you, his own hands clenched into tight fists. "Why were you cutting yourself with this?" He asked, his tone even more angry. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I wouldn't care?"

"I thought you'd be happy about it," you fired back, "you're always picking on me, teasing me, so you'd think this would be your opportunity to have a good laugh at my expense."

"So, what, you think I'm an asshole then? I thought you were better than that," he said, stepping closer to you. "You think I want to watch you hurt yourself?"

"Well, that's what you seem to do isn't it? Tease me, make me angry, get me so worked up I have to hurt myself to calm down!" You could hear the anger in your voice, but it was nothing compared to the anger you could feel coming off of Damon.

"Don't fucking turn this on me," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You can't use me as an excuse.

"I am not blaming you for this, dammit," you snap, "and yes, I am blaming you! You're the one who brought it up, you're the one who started this whole thing by teasing me."

"I didn't mean for you to take it this far," he says, "I didn't realize..."

You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him in his moment of weakness, why? Why did you want to comfort those who hurt you, you'd never know.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it this far. But I couldn't help it, I just...I needed to let it go, you're so fucking infuriating sometimes. So, you're right, it's not your fault. I just couldn't stop myself." You said, trying to force the words out.

He looked at you for a moment, and you could see his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch your cheek, but pulling his hand back in the next instant.

"You're not the only one," you said softly. "I'm sorry too. I should have talked to you, but I wasn't ready."

"No, I should have stopped this from happening," he said, his voice breaking.

"I know, but it just got out of hand." You sighed, rubbing your face. "I need to get to bed." You said, moving towards the door. "Good night, Damon." But before you had a chance his hand grabbed yours and in an instant the world became still.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears and every nerve in your body felt electrified. You could feel the air around you change. You could smell the warm sugary like scent that hung in the air, feel the warmth of his skin on yours.

He became close, so close you could feel his breath against your neck and the gentle brush of his lips. His hand gripped yours and you felt a surge of power run through your veins.

"You know I don't like it." He says quietly, almost so softly you couldn't hear it. "When you cut yourself." His cologne was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his shampoo from his normal evening shower.

You swallowed hard and nodded, "I know." You said softly.

"I-." He seems to struggle to voice his feelings, his voice a whisper that barely reaches your ears. "I want you." His hands had left yours and begun to grip the fabric of your shirt on either side of you. "I want to stay. " Like this he almost seemed like a pouting child.

You felt the softness of his lips as they touched the back of your ear, his hands running over your sides. If you weren't red before you certainly were now. This might was confusing, Damon and his feelings are confusing, but you'd be lying if you said you'd hadn't thought about him saying those words to you before.

"O-ok." Was all you could manage. For the first time ever you hugged him and he hugged you back. Never had his walls tumble down so far but tonight something had shook him to his core, the thought that he might lose you and it would be his fault.

"I'll sleep here with you," he said softly. "I won't let you do that again." He said, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your lips. "Please, don't hurt yourself anymore." He said, his eyes begging you to understand.

Your heart was pounding, and your cheeks were flushed. "Ok." You whispered.

#andromeda six #calderon lynch #damon reznor #fanfiction #juniper #ryona mi'haden #vexx serif #visual novel #archive of our own #tw self destruction #angst #possibly triggering

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