~Just taking a little break from work harder.
tw: self harm, suicidal thoughts, suicidal thinking, suicide, depression, langst, klance -Takes place in the room bedroom scene thing I don’t know. I’m bored and wanna write some shit but ya know. Instead of just insecurities, we have Lance coming clean about everything. (I am, in no way, attempting to romanticize self-harm. If you ever need anything, someone to talk, rant, or scream at, I’m always here. )~
“It’s complicated,” Lance whispered, “I want to die.”
Keith looked up at Lance, “W-”
Lance held a hand up, signaling for the raven-haired to let him finish, “I’m afraid of how to go, though.” Lance smiled sadly at the now Black paladin. “I imagine how happy I would feel to just…stop feeling. But that would also mean that I’d have to go through the pain of dying and that’s not fun.” Lance chuckled, remembering the many ‘Lance-almost-died’ situations.
Keith watched softly, “Lance…” He didn’t know what to say.
“It’s ironic isn’t it?” Lance scoffed at himself, “I hurt myself because I’m afraid of pain.” Lance shook his head at himself. He stared down at his exposed arms.
Red lines were placed over white. Keith reached out, he placed a finger on one of the many healing marks.
“You..” Keith drew in a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, “Lance, I really have no idea what to say.”
“Don’t,” Lance leaned away from Keith. Lance stood up, “Thanks for everything, Keith.”
“Lance-” Keith called out for the paladin but the door shut him in before he could grab him, leaving him by himself to register everything.
~Guys. I’m tired. I haven’t been sleeping. I need sleep. When I say that I need six hours sleep to function. I’m not joking. Any less and I’ll be screaming out that I’m gay and yelling at homophobic assholes to grow a pair and maybe they’ll get some. Yeah. Okay. I’m good. Vent is good. Heathers is good. Story is bad. Yep. OKay. Kill me. I’ll do tags one day. Maybe.~