Work Text:
“...I’m good.”
Joshua’s heart seemed to twist up inside his chest when the words slipped past his lips, but he gave Soonyoung a smile anyway. He couldn’t answer Soonyoung’s ‘ how are you? ’ with what he really felt, even if he felt like he should. He couldn’t let himself unravel like that in front of a person who knew nothing about what went on in Joshua’s mind.
It would just look like he was lying, or looking for attention.
“That’s good.” Soonyoung smiled back at him as he settled into his desk. Joshua felt a pang of guilt in the center of his chest. For lying to Soonyoung, for leading him to believe that Joshua was okay. That he was normal, just like the rest of them.
For a moment, he wished he could talk to Soonyoung. He knew that Soonyoung cared, and that he would listen; he knew that Soonyoung wouldn’t judge him for a moment. But Joshua had gone on too long pretending. It was too late, and he had to accept that.
Besides, now, it was time for work.
Joshua spent his whole day at a cubicle desk, waiting for customer service calls. He did it every single day, aside from Sunday. He dealt with normal people. He dealt with difficult people, and he dealt with demons. He dealt with everything, whether he was mentally equipped for it or not. He did it whether he could handle human interaction in that moment or not, because he didn’t have a choice.
It was one of two things. Sitting and talking for hours, or sitting and waiting for calls for hours. It was the silence that hurt more. When he was off in his own brain, his eyes blank and his mind flooded with thoughts, everything and nothing at the same time. Things like figuring out what he should make for dinner, and things like remembering to keep his wrists covered.
As if anyone would pay attention to what was on his wrist. No one would ever suspect him of doing something as taboo as cutting at his skin.
He stared at them for a few moments, while off in his own mind. He ran a hand over them. One, two, three...there were nine of them, only nine. A few more on the side of his wrist, but these were all in a row. Not cuts, not exactly. Lines that started as scratches that he just dug into further with the exacto knife.
He would zone out. He would feel nothing but the pain of the thin blade on the sensitive skin of his inner wrist, and his mind would be clear.
“Josh, can you look over this paper? Pretty please?” Soonyoung’s voice broke through Joshua’s thoughts and he flinched before hiding his hands under his desk, letting the sleeves of his oversized cardigan fall back over his hands. He stared up at Soonyoung and then at the paper he had neatly placed on his desk - a report on the most issues their call center received, Joshua guessed. That was Soonyoung’s job, after all.
He looked back at Soonyoung for a moment, who was just smiling at him. Had he seen Joshua’s wrist? Did he notice Joshua staring at it, running his fingers along the raised skin? Or had he not even paid attention?
“Sure.” Joshua smiled back again, swallowing his nervousness. It was nothing. Like always.
“Thanks! You're the best.”
Soonyoung turned away, and went back to what he was doing. Joshua felt his breath get stuck in his throat, keeping his forced smile plastered to his face until he knew Soonyoung wasn't looking.
Soonyoung said that phrase so easily. Would he think the same of him if he knew what went on in his head?