His eyes adjusted to the darkness before his attention was caught by a clank coming from your bathroom. His hand hovered over the door knob before relunctantly opening it to see you standing in front of the bathroom mirror, a bloodied knife on the floor, and freshly self inflicked scars on your wrists. ...What did you do, problem child...? He asked you with wide eyes of worry before pulling you into his arms and letting you cry into his shoulder.
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