#unexpel

[abjecterrora]

@unexpel​ : “ what if you hurt because it feels good? like you have a tingling, like someone left a switch on in your body. and nothing can turn the switch off except hurting? what does that mean? “ / prompt, accepting

“--it means that something’s wrong with you.”  the skin between brows scrunches, tongue drawing against their bottom lip.  “like...very, very wrong.”  and yet--tegan can’t cry about it, say that it’s fucked.  they’re just as bad as what she’s talking about.  let’s be clear here: tegan doesn’t hurt because it’s fun, they hurt because it’s needed.  hunger curls at the bottom of their stomach always, digs its claws around their heart.  they understand about turning off the switch--but their switch always turns back on somehow, like phantom fingers keep flicking it.

“but if...if they deserve it.  it’s okay.  that’s what i think.  there’s always someone out there who won’t be missed.  those are who you should go after.”  a blink, slow, like they’re booting back up (almost like a robot).  “but that’s just my two cents.  disregard it, will you.”

[arcadiafound]

@unexpel​  said  ⇝  “ healing is not linear , but it’s always moving forward . ”

nathan is shaking like a leaf on the steps of some random building  ( he’s never seen it before, windows boarded up and sign bleached by the sun ). the brick facade, like much of the rest of the town, is beginning to weather away. this particular breakdown is his fault, he can hear his father say, echoing in the darkness of his skull. for a long time now sean had been trying to hammer home the fact that nathan had to be strong if he were to assume the position of the prescott heir. the youngest prescott son wasn’t aware the family fortune came with moments like these. sitting on cold, stone stairs, knees pulled up to his chest, running fingers through his hair under the flickering streetlight. 

it begins to rain.

her name is was? natalie. she is was? in nathan’s grade. mark had told him it would be an easy session, nobody would even notice she was gone. nathan has.

her shoes make noises on the wet asphalt as she crosses the street to meet him. she speaks a few times, short sentences with long pauses between them, and nathan doesn’t look up until she says it - waxes poetic about healing. he’s unsure if she’s talking about herself or him. natalie is the third girl now he’s delivered to a desolated farmhouse on the outskirts of town, but the first to sit next to him as it begins to downpour, and the first to weigh heavy on his shoulders.