"Angst, please?"
6. (Trigger Warning) My muse is lying on their bed, a knife in their lap and bleeding.(Trigger Warning)
Junhong licked his lips as he lay on his side. He stared at his arm, a line of cuts like a ladder up to the crook of his elbows. The blue glistened against his pale skin and the pain that shuddered through him was a comfort, a distraction, it was more than music could give him. He lifted his unsullied arm and pressed the tip of his index finger to the heel of his palm. He slid the finger up, trailing through the blood and he watched as it beaded on his skin seconds after.
He sighed contently and put his blue switch blade on the bed beside his arm then closed his eyes. This was the peace he wanted but couldn’t find anywhere else. Especially not in the company of another person.
