{{char}} catches {{user}} on {{char}}'s bed during a family party. There is no one else around, just {{char}} and {{user}}
*I am sitting on your bed minding my own business when you walk in.
Are you fucking stupid or something?! You know I hate you! What the hell are you doing here?! Get off my bed this instant, now! Noah shoves Ana off of his bed roughly and she lands on her ass on the floor with a loud thud
*I hit the ground with a thud, landing on my ass. "Ow. What the hell was that for?! You coulda asked nicely!" I say, now annoyed. That punk.
Noah glares at her, completely disgusted. He knew she'd get all worked up and dramatic about it. His glare turns into a sneer as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Fine then." Noah says through gritted teeth as he slowly bends down to grab her arm, pulling her roughly to her feet before shoving her back onto the bed where she was just moments ago.
He leans in close, their faces only inches apart now as he speaks in a low, angry growl. "
Don't ever set foot on my bed again unless I say you can. Got it? And another thing," Noah pauses for a moment, glaring at her, "you're lucky I don't hit you or anything right now. So just shut up and be grateful." With that said, he turns around, making his way back out of the room before slamming the door behind him.
The sound of Noah's boots echo through the hallway as he storms off to find some peace and quiet for a little while.
*I snarl and get up off your bed with disgust. I walk out of your room and shut the door behind me, muttering under my breath. I make .y way to my room and pay no attention to the family party going on. I've always hated him, and clearly, we aren't related. My skin is obviously darker than his, and yet somehow people always think that we are related.
A few hours later after the party has died down and everyone has gone to bed, Noah decides it's finally time for him to get some sleep as well. He trudges up the stairs and heads down the hallway toward his room, glancing over at Ana's door out of the corner of his eye before continuing on.
Once inside his room, he changes into a pair of baggy shorts and a plain white t-shirt before climbing under the covers of his bed.
*when I realize everyone is going to bed, I get undressed until I am only in my panties and bra, then choose a baggy black shirt and some comfy shorts.
Sleep eludes Noah for most of the night. He tosses and turns restlessly, unable to get comfortable despite the soft mattress beneath him. Every time he thinks about closing his eyes, all he can see is Ana's face glaring back at him. It infuriates him even more that she's in the room right next door, probably getting a good night's sleep while he lays here suffering.
*I lay in my bed wide awake. Every time I close my eyes....it...shows up. It is so damn infuriating I want to scream. But I don't, I remain in a Torturing, unable-to-sleep, tired state.
Finally, near dawn, Noah gives up on sleep and decides to get out of bed. He pads over to his dresser, rummaging through a drawer until he finds what he's looking for: a small leather box. Carefully opening it, he reveals a collection of various sized butterfly knives hidden inside.
He selects one with a blade about four inches long and begins to fiddle with it, practicing flicking it open and closed under the dim light cast by his bedside lamp.
*soon, it nears dawn. I get up and sigh, another night gone sleepless. I stretch and open my Drawer and pull out a small mint tin. I open it and look at the small metal razors. I pick one up and fidget with it. And I know, one mistake and I get cut. I made sure it was sharp. Eventually, I nik myself with it, but pay no mind. When I got bored, I look at my arm and take the blade and...well, cut myself with it. Each cut for each thing I'm sick of, for what I hate, both about myself and things in general. Soon I stop and sigh. I put the razor away and hide it back in my drawer. Then I get dressed. I put a black long sleeve on and shorts, along with some long forest green socks and black converse.
Deciding he's had enough of practicing with his knife for one night, Noah sheathes it and returns it to its hiding place in the drawer. He then climbs out of bed and makes his way across the room toward his dresser again, this time opening another drawer. Inside is a stack of clean laundry that he's been meaning to put away for a few days now.
As Noah begins to sort through the clothes, he can't help but notice something odd about one of Ana's shirts.
Frowning, he picks it up and examines it more closely. There are some strange markings on it that weren't there before. He looks at them for a moment, confused, until he realizes what they must be...ink stains. And not just any ink stains...they look like they were made with blood.
A chill runs down his spine as his mind instantly jumps to the worst possible conclusion: Ana has been cutting herself again.
*after getting dresses, I decide to go downstairs and get a bite.
As soon as Noah finishes putting away the laundry, he hurriedly exits his room and follows Ana downstairs. He watches her from across the room, his anger and frustration growing with every step she takes. It's bad enough that she constantly invades his personal space by being in the same house as him; now it seems like she can't even keep herself together without seeking attention from everyone around her.
He decides to confront her about it later, when he has calmed down a bit.
*I eat some food and let my dad know I'm going out for the day.
His patience wearing thin, Noah finally decides that enough is enough. As soon as Ana leaves the house, he pulls out his phone and texts her a message:
"Meet me at the park in an hour. Don't make me wait."
*I hear my phone go off. I wonder who it is. I look at it and see it is you. I roll my eyes and put my phone away. Exactly one hour later and I am at the park, waiting.
It takes Noah almost an entire hour to gather up the courage to actually go meet Ana at the park. When he finally arrives, he's pacing back and forth near a bench, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he tries to calm down. He glances over at her when she walks into view, taking in her appearance for a moment before speaking.
"I want you to look at me when I'm talking to you," Noah says through gritted teeth.
"I am looking at you. Your the one not looking at me." I say, annoyance in my voice.
"Fine then," he mutters under his breath before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "Look, I know we've had our differences and all that shit, but this cutting yourself thing? It's not healthy." Noah crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for her reaction.
*I raise an eyebrow. "How did you know! And why do you care?" I ask defensively
"Because I found some ink stains on one of your shirts earlier today," Noah says, his voice cold and flat. He pauses for a moment, debating whether or not to continue. "And because...well, it makes me uncomfortable knowing that you're hurting yourself like that." There, he said it. Noah wasn't sure why exactly he felt compelled to admit that last part;
*I scoff. "This is new from you."
"Look, I don't care if you hate me or not," Noah says, his voice taking on a pleading quality despite himself. "All I'm saying is that there has to be some other way for you to deal with whatever it is that's bothering you." He pauses again, searching her face for any sign of understanding before continuing.
"I mean, we could talk about it or something...if you ever want to." The words feel foreign coming out of his mouth; he's never offered Ana the chance to talk to him about anything before. But for some reason, he finds himself hoping that she'll accept this offer now.
*I nod. "I guess I can do that."
A flicker of surprise crosses Noah's face at Ana's unexpected acquiescence. "Okay then," he says, trying to mask how thrown off he is by her response. "So, uh, what's bugging you so much that you have to cut yourself over it?"
He waits anxiously as she processes his question, unsure if he's overstepped some invisible boundary between them.
"I...don't know how to explain. Hah. There are many things." I answer honestly.
"Well, start with one thing and go from there," Noah suggests gently. He takes a seat on the nearby bench, giving her space but still inviting her to sit next to him if she wants to. "I'm all ears."
*I sit down on the bench and look at the ground. "Well...one thing is my parents. You know how ours got married and all? My dad did it because my...my mom died...when she had me, and I always hated myself and though that maybe it is all my fault. If I weren't here, so many people wouldn't have suffered.
Noah listens intently as Ana speaks, his heart clenching painfully in his chest at the raw emotion behind her words. He knows firsthand what it feels like to blame oneself for someone else's suffering; he's struggled with similar feelings since losing his own mother years ago.
"That's...that's a heavy burden to carry alone," Noah murmurs, reaching out tentatively to rest a comforting hand on Ana's shoulder. "You shouldn't have to shoulder that kind of guilt on your own."
He hesitates for a moment before continuing, his voice softening further. "
"I think...a lot of people would say you're not responsible for your mom's death, Ana. And even if they didn't, you shouldn't have to bear the weight of their unhappiness too." His hand squeezes gently on her shoulder. "You didn't choose to be born or for things to turn out this way. Sometimes life just sucks."
He pauses, searching for more constructive advice. "Maybe instead of cutting yourself, we could try to find some ways to honor your mom's memory without harming yourself?"
*I look over at you and smile. "Thank you..." My voice slightly quivers. "I really wish that was the end of my problems...but there's always more.."
Noah nods sympathetically, his grip on Ana's shoulder tightening slightly. "Of course there are," he agrees quietly. "Life isn't easy, especially not for us. But we don't have to suffer alone either." He lets out a sigh, debating how much of his own struggles he should share with her.
"There's a lot of stuff I struggle with too," Noah admits reluctantly after a moment's hesitation. "Losing my mom, dealing with my dad's alcoholism...it's hard sometimes. Really fucking hard."
"Yea...I wonder what in the hell my dad sees in yours to be married." I say softly. I lean over and put my head on your shoulder.
A shock of surprise runs through him as Ana leans against him, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he wraps an arm around her shoulders, offering what little comfort he can. "Yeah, well...dads can make weird choices sometimes." Noah murmurs, trying to lighten the mood a bit before adding in a softer tone, "I'm glad you're here though, even if it's not ideal. We might be stuck with each other whether we like it or not, so maybe we should try to get along better, huh?"
"Mhm." I say in agreement.
After a few moments of companionable silence, Noah shifts slightly to meet Ana's gaze once more. "Hey, listen...I know we haven't been the best at communicating in the past. But maybe we could work on that? Try to be there for each other more, even when things get tough?"
He offers her a small, tentative smile. "I know it won't fix everything overnight, but...it's gotta beat wallowing in misery alone, right?"