^blccms !

_@slicedup

_{sleep avoided him all night, but as he looks at the sunlight falling} gracefully _{into his room, coaxing the rain forest of plants decorating the space to turn toward the new day, he supposes he deserves it. he sits up, drawing his knees to his chest, resting his chin atop them as he remembers the night before. the anger that gnawed and burned at him, that made him afraid of himself.} 

_{he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, turning it over for a long moment, waiting for the anxiety to come to a sharp head that spears his heart before finally dialing his number. his heart sits in his throat and pounds while he listens to the ringing. he goes through this twice.}

_{anxiety grows into panic, forcing him up to brush his teeth and change his clothes and run out the door, run down the sidewalk, the street, all the way to dylan’s building, up the stairs – the elevator is too slow – and finally sliding to a stop outside his door. shaking hands knock hard against the wood.}

               _{“dylan?” hie voice is hoarse, the result of too many tears and more yelling than he’s ever done in his life. “please – you don’t have to talk or let me in just – just please tell me you’re there. i need to know you’re there – then i’ll leave. i promise.”}

          <sup>sleep has escaped the wicked soul that sits within dylan    ,    left him    CLAWING    at his skin    &&    destroying himself until he can hardly breathe  .    the bruises linger on him    ,    refusing to heal like he refuses to keep himself sober    ,    little scabs just forming across every line         -    fractured    ,    broken  .    his night has been a horror movie    ,    where he is the villain    (    the bully    ,    the victim    ,    the pain - soaked hero    )  .

          the sun shines through the newspaper - padded windows like the    SCORCHING    PAIN    of a branding    ,    blinding    &&    scalding  .    the    NEW    DAY    forces him to hate being alive    ,    once again    ,    the memory of the    DREADED    NIGHT    BEFORE    throbbing against his skull  .    he’d ruined everything    ,    sent archie away    ,    left himself loveless    &&    alone  .    the exact second the world fell apart plays on repeat in his mind    ,    ARCHIE’S    FACE    as he turned to leave    ,    the feeling of    HEARTBREAK    so palpable in his chest    ;    death would be kinder    ,    more convincing  .

          it’s assumed    COMMON    KNOWLEDGE    that his love will not return  .    that his little miracle has finally had enough of him    ,    finally woken up to the stench of death    &&    poisoned blood    (    convincing himself that archie was never coming back was the easiest thing to do    ,    cogs of logic whirring into action         -    he’s seen the brokenness    ,    &&    his heart will never cope    )  .    

          o n e         -    the first of the calls startled him from his half - slumber    ,    archie’s name flashing on the screen sending him into another    FRENZY         -    he’s calling to berate you    ,    to tell you you’re    THE    DEVIL    ,    to say he’s never coming back    ,    to hurt you in vengeance for    WHAT    YOU’VE    DONE         -    but another few bruises don’t matter    ,    the black eye doesn’t matter    ,    &&    the horrific ringing is    SHUT    OUT    until it stops  .

          t w o         -    the second leaves him    sobbing  .    his breaths are shaking    &&    violent    ,    self - immolative anger fuelling atrophying muscles as the phone is launched at the wall  .    dylan can barely read his name without losing a little of himself  .

          t h r e e         -    the knock comes later    ,    &&    the sound shakes the very foundations of his bones  .    he considers ignoring it until archie speaks    ,    too tired to move arms or legs except to break his own bones    ,    too lost to find words         -    looking at him will leave him emptier than he already is    ,    ruin what emotion he has left  .    but he’s shaking as he stands    ,    nonetheless    ,    fingers tremoring as they unlock each of the sixteen locks that keep the outside world from invading in    (    leaves the chain    ,    keeps the door    JUST    CRACKED    OPEN         -    lets bruised   //   bleeding forehead rest against the back of the door before he lets fresh air mix with stale    ;    dylan smells like cigarettes    &&    alcohol    )  .

          head hangs  .    the sight of archie is too much to behold    ,    the shining star in his ever - present night    (    he has to be prepared for his sunshine to be taken again    )    ,    &&    he averts his gaze  .    neck - up    ,    the skin is stained with purple    &&    green    ,    bruises blossoming against his skin  .    the scar on his neck is surrounded by smaller    ,    twice - reopened wounds  .    arms wrap around his ribs    ,    shoulders around ears    ,    tongue tied to the back of his throat  .    why the    FUCK    is he back here    ?    to hurt you    ?    to tell    WHAT    YOU    ARE    ?    you deserve it    ,    but somehow it doesn’t quite seem his style  .</sup>