A Match Into Water (Vic Fuentes Imagine)
Chapter 1/1
Trigger Warning
You look down at your wrists one last time, the cold, unrelenting blade sitting in your palm. Your entire body is aching to add one last incision; the one that will end it all when you hear a knock on the door.
"Y/N, what's taking you so long in there?" Your friend Vic's voice drifts through the door.
"N-nothing," you say, trying to keep your voice steady, though you can't stop the stutter that comes.
Vic, starting to get a little worried, knocks on the door again. "Open up, please." he says.
"I'm not done," you call back.
"Open the door or I'm busting it down." his calm facade quickly vanishes as the panic rises in his voice.
"Please," you beg as your shaky hand holds the blade over your scarred skin, "let me be."
The next thing you know, the door is burst open and the tanned man drops to his knees before you, his eyes instantly swimming with tears as he looks down at the blood on the ground and your arm, as well as the rusted blade you hold in your hand.
"W-why, Y/N?" he asks, voice breaking on your name.
You can't speak; your entire body convulsing as you drop the blade and let out one sob before crashing into his arms. He instantly tightens his grip on you, kissing your hair and rubbing your back. "Shhh, it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."
You shake your head. You know everything's not going to be alright. It never could be again. Slowly, you feel Vic picking you up in his arms and slowly setting you on the counter next to the sink. Gently taking your arms in his hands, he rolls back the sleeves and leans down, trailing kisses up your arms, not missing a single scar, cut or burn in the process.
"I don't ever want to lose my best friend." he whispers as his tears drip onto your marred flesh.
He slowly stands back up straight and starts to grab a towel, mopping up the blood still seeping from your arms. "This is going to hurt, and I'm sorry." he warns as he pours water into the cuts before adding some peroxide. You wince and bite your tongue to stop from crying out at the instant burning and stinging. He gives your hand a small squeeze to reassure you as he continues to clean your cuts. "I'm sorry," he repeats over and over each time he makes you cry out.
Vic spends a while longer making sure each cut is clean before wrapping them up in gauze and bandages. After he's done, he pulls you into his arms, giving you the biggest hug you'd ever received in your life. He lets you cry it out on his shoulder, rubbing your back and murmuring soft words in your ear as you cry. A long while after, when your sobs had turned to cries, and your cries had turned to hiccups, he picks you up again and slowly carries you to your bedroom, tucking you in tight. Vic stands up and goes to the DVD player, turning on your favorite movie before going back to cuddle with you, rubbing your back.
"I love you." he whispers as you drift off to sleep.
You look down at your wrists one last time, the cold, unrelenting blade sitting in your palm. Your entire body is aching to add one last incision; the one that will end it all when you hear a knock on the door.
"Y/N, what's taking you so long in there?" Your friend Vic's voice drifts through the door.
"N-nothing," you say, trying to keep your voice steady, though you can't stop the stutter that comes.
Vic, starting to get a little worried, knocks on the door again. "Open up, please." he says.
"I'm not done," you call back.
"Open the door or I'm busting it down." his calm facade quickly vanishes as the panic rises in his voice.
"Please," you beg as your shaky hand holds the blade over your scarred skin, "let me be."
The next thing you know, the door is burst open and the tanned man drops to his knees before you, his eyes instantly swimming with tears as he looks down at the blood on the ground and your arm, as well as the rusted blade you hold in your hand.
"W-why, Y/N?" he asks, voice breaking on your name.
You can't speak; your entire body convulsing as you drop the blade and let out one sob before crashing into his arms. He instantly tightens his grip on you, kissing your hair and rubbing your back. "Shhh, it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."
You shake your head. You know everything's not going to be alright. It never could be again. Slowly, you feel Vic picking you up in his arms and slowly setting you on the counter next to the sink. Gently taking your arms in his hands, he rolls back the sleeves and leans down, trailing kisses up your arms, not missing a single scar, cut or burn in the process.
"I don't ever want to lose my best friend." he whispers as his tears drip onto your marred flesh.
He slowly stands back up straight and starts to grab a towel, mopping up the blood still seeping from your arms. "This is going to hurt, and I'm sorry." he warns as he pours water into the cuts before adding some peroxide. You wince and bite your tongue to stop from crying out at the instant burning and stinging. He gives your hand a small squeeze to reassure you as he continues to clean your cuts. "I'm sorry," he repeats over and over each time he makes you cry out.
Vic spends a while longer making sure each cut is clean before wrapping them up in gauze and bandages. After he's done, he pulls you into his arms, giving you the biggest hug you'd ever received in your life. He lets you cry it out on his shoulder, rubbing your back and murmuring soft words in your ear as you cry. A long while after, when your sobs had turned to cries, and your cries had turned to hiccups, he picks you up again and slowly carries you to your bedroom, tucking you in tight. Vic stands up and goes to the DVD player, turning on your favorite movie before going back to cuddle with you, rubbing your back.
"I love you." he whispers as you drift off to sleep.
Notes
Don't want this to be stolen, so Copyright 2013©Thanks for reading!
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