A Thousand Unseen Cuts // Clavookie
Braden stared down at the double edged razor sitting on his bedside table, a blank expression on his face. There were a lot of thoughts running through his mind, a complete whirlwind of emotions. It didnāt matter how much looksmaxxing he did, he was still the same insecure boy that spent his days scrolling on .org.
There were a few scars on his thighs, nothing really noticeable, the women he slept with never mentioned them because he always made sure to turn the lights down low. But the worst of it was on his upper arm. He used to film gym content, but now he made sure to always have sleeves covering that small portion near his shoulder, rather than showing off his physique half naked in a mirror.
He never took his shirt off during sex anymore. Half of him regretted what heād done, spending time every time he took a shower staring at them in the mirror. They itched quite a lot, it was rough when he and his friends would be doing a stream and heād suddenly start scratching at his arm like a lunatic.
The decision was made. Braden picked up the razor, it was a new one, his older one had gotten too dull which was really a nuisance. He thought back to his childhood, before heād learned about the blackpill, before heād discovered that stupid looksmaxxing forum that changed his life. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, as he dragged the blade from his wrist, all the way to the end of his forearm, in a quick motion.
The layers of his skin peeled back, blood beginning to trickle out the insicion heād just made. It wasnāt deep enough. Biting down on his lip, he multi-swiped, his layer of fat now visible. Braden cursed to himself underneath his breath upon realizing that he had hit a vein, blood quickly pooled in the cut and trickled down his arm, dripping messily over his bed.
Strong feelings of paranoia washed over him when it hit him that a bandaid wouldnāt fix this mess. His heart rate anxiously sped up.
What if somebody came in?
I donāt know how to handle a cut this big.
Braden held his hand over it as best as he could, putting pressure on it, blood staining the palm of his hand and his legs. He then tried to hold the pieces of skin back together, but it didnāt do much at all.
Inside his pocket, his phone began to vibrate, indicating that someone was calling him. Braden wiped his hand on his bed and pulled it out, trembling. It was Cookie.
He stared at the caller ID for a moment as it continued to ring, the cut continuing to make a mess everywhere. He answered.
āCookie?ā Bradenās voice unintentionally sounded all shaky.
āClav, do you wanna go walk around Miami tonight? Holy Dexter reference. But me and Kay are in the city, he just has some shit to do tonight.ā
Braden felt awful saying no, but what was he supposed to do? That fear was evident, because if he didnāt get medical attention he could very well pass out, or worse. He didnāt even want to think about the giant, noticeable scar it would leave.
There was silence for a few moments.
He couldnāt stay silent forever. Braden loved Cookie, and he trusted him, but he had never opened up about the cutting, and he didnāt want to have to make it his problem.
āCookie, I kind of fucked up and I donāt know what to do right now.ā
āWell, what happened?ā
Braden paused again before he finally responded,
āI cut myself. Likeā¦ deep. I donāt know what to do, I think I hit a vein.ā
āOh, God, Braden, where are you right now?ā
Concern filled his tone, and Braden explained that he was just at his house. Cookie began to insist that he was going to come over and take him to a hospital. Braden didnāt exactly want to go to a hospital, but he didnāt have much of a choice here.
āāāāāāāāāā
āBraden, are you okay? Iām here now, just hang on for a sec, Iāll clean you up a little bit.ā Cookie was kneeling in front of his sitting boyfriend, in between his legs as he started to unravel some gauze.
āIām sorry, I shouldnāt have done this, Iām so cooked.ā Braden sighed as Cookie began to wrap up his forearm with the gauze tightly. The blood immediately began to soak through, it wasnāt much of a difference, but he was just trying to help soak up some of the blood before they left.
āI love you, donāt apologize to me, Iām here for you.ā Cookie looked up into the other manās eyes, his gaze full of compassion. He finished bandaging Clav up and then kissed his forearm gently, standing up, towering over him. Braden looked up at Cookie, who placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing his thumb on it, lovingly looking down at his teary-eyed boyfriend. Kissing his forehead, he helped him up to his feet. Braden definitely felt a bit woozy but he could walk.
Braden hated his scars, and he hated the fact that heād just done this to himself. As if Cookie could read his mind, he said, āI love every part of you, Braden; so much.ā As they drove to the hospital, barely hanging onto consciousness, memories of Cookie flashed in his mind, it was peaceful, calmed him down in the midst of this storm.
To say Cookie was relieved as they stitched Braden up would be an understatement, the nurse had informed him that the cut could have done a lot more damage if he hadnāt been brought here in time.
āI donāt know what Iād do without you.ā Cookie gently stroked Bradenās hair in the hospital room, the two of them alone in the room as they gazed into each otherās eyes. āCan I just askā¦ why did you do it?ā
Braden didnāt want to cry again, he already felt vulnerable enough tonight. āUmā¦. It justā¦. It takes the pain awayā¦ yāknow?ā His voice cracked a bit, he couldnāt stop thinking about his childhood and wondering how he ended up like this; the drugs, the paranoia, the self harmā¦ Nobody would ever really understand him. But there was somebody that even if they didnāt understand, they didnāt judge, and that person was sitting next to him.
āI love you, Demir.ā He spoke, smiling a bit.
āI love you too, Braden.ā
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