But We Weren't Angels
Title: But We Weren't Angels, originally written for themusecafe challenge [34] Hades & Persephone
Word Count: 533
Notes: Huge thanks to Ceci for encouraging this piece, editing this piece, and dealing with a whiny me in general. You do not get enough love. this piece presses towards self-harm, please be aware of this trigger warning and read at your own discretion I prove listening music
It all starts with a wide eyed question of concern, two words and everything starts coming unraveled at the seams. What happened?
Autumn can't understand the sharp-edged smile Matt adopts, or the easy roll of his shoulder as he brushes her off. I got carried away, is her only answer as he tugs his sleeve down, fully hiding the white bandages twining around his arm.
That should have been the end of it, close the lid and walk away.
It wasn't though, Autumn had yet to learn how curiosity could kill the soul.
What did you mean, she asks when the bandages reappear some days later, when you said you got carried away?
He won't answer her, just continues with his elusive smiles and dances out of her grasp. She wonders if he's doing this on purpose, if he knows how the question kept her up at night. She thinks about it too much, ponders and mulls the possibilities until she's shivering at the remnants she's left with.
The next day he presents her with a knife. It's a pocket sized thing, the handle a polished dark red with some kind of blossom etched onto the side, and when she opens it a straight razor gleams back at her. There's a moment in which her head spins, confusion clouding to the front, and then Matt's voice is breaking through to her.
--get caught I don't know anything, got that? Matt brushes a hand through her hair, lets it trail to rest on her collarbone, any questions?
She swallows the rush of words threatening to overcome her, knows already that he can't provide a satisfactory answer to any of them, and blurts this isn't like the after school specials.
He laughs, a dark mirthless sound. Don't be scared, he whispers before walking away. Autumn watches him leave; the folded blade rests in her hands, a weight already dragging her down.
She doesn't do it right away, convinces herself she doesn't need to and the blade is just there as an option. It's always good to know your options. But as days blur into weeks and Autumn is left standing with the same knot of discomfort and an empty house for solace, she wonders if maybe she shouldn't exercise her options.
The first time happens with curiosity edging everything else out of her mind. The blade lays benign against her arm, cool silver complimenting the pale peach of her tone. She presses down, a shiver racing down her spine as the skin breaks. It doesn't really hurt and Autumn's left wondering if she's done something wrong. She drags the blade towards her in one quick motion, marveling at the slow swell of blood.
There's no dramatics to be had, no pleasure in the sensation, it still isn't really painful. Autumn's left with a vague feeling of contentment, the knot in her chest loosening by millimeters.
Later, Matt reasons that it could be worse. She could be on alcohol or drugs or other things damaging her beyond repair. Scars happen, it's not so bad.
She smiles, nods, and takes his hand as he leads her to a dark place.
Word Count: 533
Notes: Huge thanks to Ceci for encouraging this piece, editing this piece, and dealing with a whiny me in general. You do not get enough love. this piece presses towards self-harm, please be aware of this trigger warning and read at your own discretion I prove listening music
It all starts with a wide eyed question of concern, two words and everything starts coming unraveled at the seams. What happened?
Autumn can't understand the sharp-edged smile Matt adopts, or the easy roll of his shoulder as he brushes her off. I got carried away, is her only answer as he tugs his sleeve down, fully hiding the white bandages twining around his arm.
That should have been the end of it, close the lid and walk away.
It wasn't though, Autumn had yet to learn how curiosity could kill the soul.
What did you mean, she asks when the bandages reappear some days later, when you said you got carried away?
He won't answer her, just continues with his elusive smiles and dances out of her grasp. She wonders if he's doing this on purpose, if he knows how the question kept her up at night. She thinks about it too much, ponders and mulls the possibilities until she's shivering at the remnants she's left with.
The next day he presents her with a knife. It's a pocket sized thing, the handle a polished dark red with some kind of blossom etched onto the side, and when she opens it a straight razor gleams back at her. There's a moment in which her head spins, confusion clouding to the front, and then Matt's voice is breaking through to her.
--get caught I don't know anything, got that? Matt brushes a hand through her hair, lets it trail to rest on her collarbone, any questions?
She swallows the rush of words threatening to overcome her, knows already that he can't provide a satisfactory answer to any of them, and blurts this isn't like the after school specials.
He laughs, a dark mirthless sound. Don't be scared, he whispers before walking away. Autumn watches him leave; the folded blade rests in her hands, a weight already dragging her down.
She doesn't do it right away, convinces herself she doesn't need to and the blade is just there as an option. It's always good to know your options. But as days blur into weeks and Autumn is left standing with the same knot of discomfort and an empty house for solace, she wonders if maybe she shouldn't exercise her options.
The first time happens with curiosity edging everything else out of her mind. The blade lays benign against her arm, cool silver complimenting the pale peach of her tone. She presses down, a shiver racing down her spine as the skin breaks. It doesn't really hurt and Autumn's left wondering if she's done something wrong. She drags the blade towards her in one quick motion, marveling at the slow swell of blood.
There's no dramatics to be had, no pleasure in the sensation, it still isn't really painful. Autumn's left with a vague feeling of contentment, the knot in her chest loosening by millimeters.
Later, Matt reasons that it could be worse. She could be on alcohol or drugs or other things damaging her beyond repair. Scars happen, it's not so bad.
She smiles, nods, and takes his hand as he leads her to a dark place.