Work Text:
Phoenix held the knife; he had done this so many times. Just don't think. He quickly sliced his skin.
Why did it feel so good? Yet, it also felt horrible.
It was like an addiction.
It was an addiction.
He held his arm close, an instinct at this point. He tried to reach for the bandages but tripped and slumped against the sink.
Why was he having trouble keeping his eyes open?
He looked back down at his arm. No, no, no, no, he had cut too deep. He needed help. "Mi..iles!" There was no answer. Of course, there wasn't. He was the only one awake.
He sat there, unable to move. His eyes closed slightly more. "Phoenix?" He managed to look up at the mysterious figure. Miles? What was he doing up? He felt his eyes fully close.
Miles tried his hardest to get Phoenix to wake, but he couldn't.
He was gone.