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It stings.
My thighs, my chest, it all stings enough to make my eyes water. I dab at them with a wet piece of toilet paper, hissing slightly at the worsening sensation. I don't bother bandaging the wounds. I'm too tired.
I should've known better, I think to myself. What is Grim going to think? Will he be able to tell? I don't have the energy to care too much right now. I have a sleepover to get ready for.
...
I ditch my usual sleepwear. The shorts ride up too high, the tanktop moves too easily. I don't want anyone to see. I sigh. I don't wanna go, I think to myself, but I already said I would. This is exhausting.
Dread starts to pool in my stomach. I should've known better. I shouldn't have done anything to myself — what if someone finds out? That'd be the end of me.
I make my way to Heartslabyul against my better judgement.
...
I wake up with Riddle staring down at me. He doesn't make eye contact. I look around — no one else is in the room anymore.
"I sent my card soldiers to run errands." Riddle's voice interrupts my thoughts. He pauses for a second, as if thinking over how to bring something up without stuttering, without being insensitive.
He clears his throat. "Your chest, Prefect." I feel my heart drop. "Are you alright?" His voice is softer than I've ever heard it. I can see his mouth moving, but I can't hear anything else.
My heart starts pounding. I realize now that the blanket isn't as high as I usually hold it when I first wake up. My shirt, too big from the boys who previously lived in Ramshackle, has slipped just a little too far down. I don't want to look.
All I can hear is my blood rushing. Distantly, I realize my hands have started shaking, my face has grown hot. I should've known better. I was a fool to think that replacing my shorts with thin pajama pants was good enough. I was even more stupid to believe changing my shirt into one more likely to fall down just enough to reveal my marks and previous scars was a good idea.
Riddle's still talking. He's reaching for me with one hand. I don't move, don't look up. I don't want to see his face or know what he's thinking. Stupid, I think, why would you do that? I feel something scratch my arm a little. Now he's gonna think you're crazy. Maybe you are! Your friends are gonna hate you, and you're gonna deserve it!
Someone's shaking me. I snap my head up. Grey meets green. "Hey, Prefect!" Cater smiles hesitantly. No, don't do that... Cater's always friendly with me, I don't want him to be scared... I feel him gently grab my wrist, pulling it away from my arm.
"You there?" He lifts my head just enough to make eye contact with me. His eyes search mine. What is he doing? He gives a faint smile before dropping his hand. The other, still on my arm, moves to gently squeeze my wrist.
"You okay? I heard from Rids what happened. A little, anyways. He seemed kinda panicked and couldn't really get anything out." His hands move while he talks. It's nothing new, but it feels like he's going quicker. Is he nervous?
I see his screen long enough to make out a hurried text, addled with typos. "...Is he okay? Riddle, I mean." My voice is quiet and thin. I don't want to cry in front of anyone, but the thought of scaring Riddle is bothering me more than I thought it could.
Cater sighs. "He's a little shaken, is all. I think he feels kinda guilty for freaking you out." He sits down next to me, leaning his head ontop of mine. I give his hand a light squeeze. "Sorry-" My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. "Sorry if I scared you." Please don't think I'm crazy, Cater. I'm sorry.
"I'm not scared, silly! Just a little worried, I promise." I feel him place a gentle kiss in my hair. "I understand, though." I nod dismissively.
"...Can you get Riddle?"
He nods against my head before getting up.
...
I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. The same shirt that practically slash-flashed one of my best friends. I shake the thought out of my head. Dread pools in my stomach the longer I'm alone. What if he hates me? Is he gonna send me to an institution? Did I mess everything up?
I snap my head up at the sound of knocking on the door. "It's Riddle." I hear him call.
"...Come in." My voice is still thin, but it'll have to do. He opens the door slowly. We make eye contact as he walks in. I'd laugh at the thought, if I were in a better mood — Heartslabyul's dorm leader asking permission to come into his own room. "Hi, Riddle."
There's a beat of silence.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, Prefect!"
Another.
"Huh?" It doesn't make sense to me. "Why are you apologizing?" His face is a little pinker than normal, as if he's embarrassed.
"I didn't mean to scare you! I was worried, is all. Ace and Deuce are, too. They keep talking about how you've been less talkative and haven't been doing your work. Then I woke up, and..." His face flushes a little more. "I didn't want anyone else to see if you didn't want them to, so I sent them away."
Oh.
"No, I thought I upset you!" I force the words out. My throat is tightening, but I have to keep going. "I thought I ruined eveything!" My hands start messing with the hem of my shirt again, desperate for something to take my mind off of this.
"I'm sorry, Riddle. I didn't mean for you to see that, and I didn't mean to freak you out earlier."
He shakes his head. "I suppose it's only natural. You aren't from this world, after all — you're just coping in the only way you know. Ah, that's how I understand it, at least." He pauses a second. "Would you mind if I healed them?"
I shake my head. "I don't want that. Sorry." The housewarden looks surprised.
"I see. Let me know if you change your mind, yes? Or if you don't want to talk to me, anyone in our dorm is available. We care about you, Prefect.”
“...I care about y'all too.” I lean against him. I feel my eyes start to water again. "Sorry for worrying you. I should've known better."