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With a shaky hand, Espresso set the blood-stained razor on the bathroom counter, letting out a sob. His breath caught in his throat as he fell to the floor, staring down at his bloodied and cut-up wrists. He told Madeleine that he wouldn't do it again. He had promised. And yet, here he was, crying on the damned bathroom floor, his wrists covered with new cuts.
He didn't mean to cut again, but that pressure had started again—that pressure that could only be freed one way.
Luckily, Madeleine wasn't home right now. He was out getting groceries, and Espresso wasn't sure how long it would be before he got back.
"Fuck," He sobbed as he watched blood roll down his wrist. He felt nauseous. He really wasn't in the mood to sit down and carefully clean his cuts one by one right now.
With a heavy sigh, he shakily stood, nearly tripping as he stood upright. He looked at the bathtub beside him, and he reached out with shaky hands, turning the handle knob to the left, not caring how hot he had made it. Steam rose from the tub and fogged up the mirror as burning hot water poured from the faucet. Espresso watched for a minute before turning to the mirror as he let the water fill the tub beside him.
The mirror was fogged up. He reached out and wiped the mirror with his hand, wincing as he remembered the blood on his hands. He tried to wipe the bloody fingerprints off the mirror as best he could before staring at his reflection. He hated his reflection. He hated it because all he saw was his father staring back at him. Their similar features taunted him, reminding him of the times his father would beat him mercilessly, or yell at him for things he couldn't change. His father had beaten him for being gay and still refused to acknowledge his marriage with Madeleine.
He barely looked like his mother, thankfully. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he looked like her. He wouldn't be able to live seeing her in himself, remembering the times she had ignored when he begged her to ask Father to stop hurting him, before ignoring his pleas as she watched him get beat half to death. Though, he couldn't blame her. His father had probably manipulated her to break her mind or something. She was mentally unwell, and he sometimes felt bad for her.
Sometimes .
The mirror had fogged up again.
Espresso let out a harsh sigh. He tore himself away from the mirror, beginning to undress himself.
He struggled with the buttons on his coat, his shaky hands refusing to cooperate. He almost cried out in frustration but managed to unbutton it, tossing his coat carelessly onto the floor. He quickly took off the rest of his clothes, throwing them to the floor alongside his coat and tie as well before finally taking off his glasses and setting them on the counter. His skin prickled slightly as it was met with the cold air. He shivered, though for reasons other than the cold.
The bathtub was full now. He turned off the flowing and steaming water with a sigh before climbing in.
He gritted his teeth, letting out a soft whimper as he touched the hot water. It felt like the heat swallowed him up until it was all that surrounded him, but he pushed through and slowly lowered himself until the water reached up to his neck. A sob escaped his mouth as the burning hot water washed over his fresh cuts on his wrists, making them sting and burn. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. He laid his head back and took a deep breath, the hot air burning its way down his throat. The steam filled his lungs, making it a bit harder to breathe and causing him to become lightheaded, but he didn't care.
Slowly, the pain the hot water was causing started to fade away as his body grew used to being engulfed by the steaming water. The burning in his cuts turned into a tingly pain. He stared up at the ceiling, the steam in the air making his eyes water and sting.
He looked back down at the water, realizing his blood had caused the water to turn a strange pinkish color. Gross.
His eyes watered more. He sniffled and reached up to wipe tears away that weren't there before. He felt them run down his cheeks, tears mixing in with the steam before rolling down his face and dropping into the water below.
And then he started sobbing.
He couldn't stop himself from sobbing. He couldn't control himself as his body shook with sobs and tears streamed down his face. He didn't even know why the hell he was crying so hard, anyway, which was stupid and pathetic.
He continued to cry into his trembling hands, his breath hitching painfully as he sobbed. It was like all his stupid emotions were hitting him at once, and he couldn't stop them. He couldn't control any of it.
When the tears finally stopped, he went quiet, and the bathroom fell silent apart from his shaky breaths cutting into the quiet, steam-filled air.
His cuts had gone numb. The rest of his body had gone numb too. He sighed as he realized the bath water was beginning to grow cold—at least in comparison to how it was before.
He wiped the tears off his face before looking down at the now ruddy-looking water. It was still rather warm, and it almost stung his skin as he reached down and pulled the plug, letting it start to drain from the tub. There were still a few pink streaks of his blood that lined the tub. He watched as it slowly drained, the pink swirls in the water beginning to go down the drain, starting to disappear.
As he sat in the slowly draining tub, he heard the front door open and close, and he heard the sound of bags being set on the floor. With a slight turn of his head, Espresso recognized his husband's voice. "Espresso! I'm home!" Madeleine called down up the stairs. He could practically hear the smile on his face.
Espresso's heart sank at the sound of Madeleine's voice. Guilt settled heavily on his shoulders, and shame swirled through his head. "...Give me a second, love," He responded, his voice sounding dead.
"Of course!" He called back cheerfully. "I'll be in the kitchen!" Madeleine said before going silent, and Espresso assumed he'd gone into the kitchen so he could put the groceries away.
Espresso lay there, watching as the tub finished draining away. He let out a short breath. He hated himself for what he'd done—what he'd done to Madeleine. Madeleine didn't deserve this. He was an angel that had been sent from the heavens above to save Espresso. He didn't deserve to have to deal with him.
He pushed himself up, shivering as the cooler air from outside his tub hit his wet skin. His eyes trailed down to himself. His wrists were still covered in his cuts, and his skin was red and very irritated from the water he had submerged himself in. He was almost shaking from how cold he felt all of a sudden. He stepped out of the tub and onto the cold floor in front of the tub. He reached over to the counter, taking a towel from a small stack of towels beside the mirror.
He began to dry himself off before he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom. He held his breath. The door swung open, and Espresso quickly turned around to see Madeleine smiling, standing in the doorway. "Oh, my God, Espresso," Madeleine laughed. "It's really steamy in here, how hot did you-" His face fell as he saw the cuts on Espresso's wrists.
Espresso was frozen in place, the towel in his hands as Madeleine stared at him. He could see his world falling apart in the other man's eyes, and Espresso cursed himself for letting Madeleine find him like this.
Madeleine quickly walked over, ignoring whatever groceries he had laid on the counter downstairs. "Darling..." Madeleine reached out to hold his arms but hesitated, not wanting to touch his cuts and accidentally hurt him even more. "What-"
"It's nothing," Espresso immediately muttered, quickly wrapping the towel around himself.
"It doesn't look like nothing," Madeleine muttered, his brow furrowing as he frowned. "Espresso, I thought you were doing better. You-" Madeleine cut himself off before he said something like "you promised", not wanting to guilt trip his husband.
Espresso looked away from him, feeling sick just looking at how disappointed and upset he was. "I'm sorry," He muttered, unable to think of anything else to say. He truly was sorry, but a simple sorry didn't seem to make Madeleine happy.
He let out a small sigh, not able to get mad. He'd found Espresso like this before; it was a familiar scene. "Look, why..." He trailed off. "How about you get dressed and I'll go get the first aid kit? I'll help you clean them." He gestured towards the cuts on his wrists.
Espresso nodded, looking away.
Madeleine hesitated before pressing a gentle kiss on Espresso's forehead. He walked out of the room to grab the first aid kit.
Espresso watched him go before turning back to the mirror and staring at himself. He stared at his eyes, looking at how tired and sunken they looked. His shoulders were slumped, and his head hung low. He was skinny—his legs and stomach were bony, showing off his ribcage. His hair was messy and tangled, but of course, it was since he'd just gotten out of the tub.
He hated his body. He hated how much he looked like his father.
He scoffed, turning and grabbing the clothes he had thrown to the floor before his bath, starting to put them on. He put his glasses back on too, frowning as the steam from the hot bath caused the lenses to fog up.
Stupid fucking Madeleine. He hated him. He hated him for making such a big deal out of this. He hated him for caring. Why did he care? Why didn’t he just let him suffer in silence?
He hated him.
Madeleine came back in after a few moments, the first aid kit in hand. "I got it," He said softly, setting it down on the counter. "Let me help you, sweetheart." He walked over to Espresso, gently taking his hand and leading him to the closed toilet seat. He sat him down. "Roll up your sleeves, please."
Espresso sat down and, with shaking hands, rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He avoided eye contact as he sat nervously. Madeleine let out a quiet sigh as he saw just how many cuts covered each of his arms. He grabbed some things from the first aid kit, pulling out some pads and rubbing alcohol. "This may sting," He warned before taking a piece of the alcohol-soaked cotton pad and gently pressing it onto one of Espresso's cuts.
Espresso tensed up but didn't pull away, though he did let out a hiss through his teeth. He sat and watched as Madeleine continued cleaning his cuts.
Espresso hated Madeleine for helping him. It wasn't that big of a deal.
Madeleine was gentle with treating his cuts, but his expression was sad as he did. "Espresso," He said, breaking into the uncomfortable silence. "You said you wouldn't do this again. You can't keep doing this. What if... What if you go too deep one day? What if one day I come home and find you-" He cut himself off as tears pricked the backs of his eyes. He blinked them back.
Espresso tensed up again. The guilt and regret that swirled through his mind as Madeleine said those words made him want to throw up. "I know," He managed to force out. What was he supposed to say to that?
Madeleine let out a shaky breath, taking another piece of alcohol-soaked cotton and gently cleaning his next cut and holding onto Espresso's hand as he let out another small hiss of pain. "Next time you feel like this, come to me. Please," Madeleine said, his voice shaky. "I don't care if you wake me up, or if I'm at work, or if I'm literally anywhere. Just... please. Don't do this to yourself again."
Espresso nodded and watched quietly as Madeleine continued to treat his cuts.
"Where's the razor?"
He felt himself wince, his brow furrowing as Madeleine asked that. Goddamn it. He had been hoping that he would forget. He met his eyes, pointing over to the counter where the razor sat, stained red with his blood. He watched as Madeleine carefully picked it up and wiped it off with a tissue, putting it in his pocket so he could throw it out or hide it somewhere Espresso couldn't find.
Damn him. Damn him for that. That was his last razor.
Madeleine turned his attention back to Espresso's cuts, taking a roll of bandages and wrapping them around his wrists.
He hated when Madeleine helped him. It meant he cared about him. He hated when people cared about him. He knew he was just being a nuisance and inconveniencing his husband by doing this, and he hated it. He hated that Madeleine had to take time out of his day to worry and care for him. He didn't want him to worry. He just wanted to suffer in silence, why was that so damn much to ask?
Espresso hesitantly reached over and took Madeleine's hand again. "I'm sor-"
"Stop." Madeleine looked up at him with saddened eyes. Espresso let out a sharp breath before shutting his mouth. "Please stop apologizing. I don't want you to apologize; I want you to stop hurting yourself."
Espresso went silent and didn't say anything. He just continued to sit in the uncomfortable silence and guilt that filled the room until Madeleine was done. He watched as Madeleine patched him up carefully before setting his arms, which were now covered with bandages, down.
Madeleine stood up as he gently cupped his husband's face, making Espresso look at him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his lips before letting out a heavy sigh.
"I'm really sorry," Espresso mumbled.
A giggle escaped Madeleine's lips. "I just told you to stop apologizing so much."
Espresso caught himself before he uttered another apology. He let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah. I'll try."
Madeleine hugged him tighter, running a hand through his damp and knotted hair. He pulled away, staring into the shorter one's eyes as he kept his hands on his waist. "Why don't you go lay down while I finish putting the groceries away, okay?" He held onto his lover's hand, intertwining their fingers. "I'll come lay down with you when I'm done."
Espresso hesitated before nodding.
Madeleine let go of his hand, giving him one last kiss on the forehead. "Good. I'll be in our room in a moment," He softly said with a smile before leaving Espresso alone.
Espresso went to their shared bedroom, laid down on his bed, and pulled the covers over himself. The sheets were cold against his skin, making him shiver.
Espresso sighed as he laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and watching the blades of the ceiling fan go around and around. The cuts on his arms burned from the medicine Madeleine had used to clean them, but it was a good kind of burning. The kind of burning that reminded him of what he had done to himself earlier.
He felt guilt and sadness settle in his stomach and guilt as he thought about how disappointed Madeleine had looked when he saw his cuts. That was his fault. It made him sick to his stomach, and he closed his eyes tight as he thought about how his self harm hurt Madeleine like this.
Espresso didn't want to hurt him. He loved Madeleine, and he hated it when Madeleine found out about his cuts. It almost made him want to stop hurting himself just so he would never see that saddened look in his husband's eyes when he was caught.
Almost.
After what seemed like forever, Espresso felt the bed dip as the other side of the bed sunk under Madeleine's weight. He felt arms wrap around him, pulling him to Madeleine's chest. "Are you alright?" His voice was soft as he spoke. "How do you feel?"
Espresso opened his eyes as he laid in Madeleine's arms, staring up at his face. "I'm okay," He said quietly. "Guilty and tired, though."
Madeleine hummed softly in understanding before rolling onto his back, pulling Espresso to lay his head on his chest. "That's understandable." He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "...I was really worried earlier, you know. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"I know," Espresso sighed before burying his face into his chest. The guilt that swam through his stomach was making him nauseous, and he let out another shaky sigh as he closed his eyes. "I just feel so stupid. I don't get why I can't just not hurt myself. I have zero self control when I feel the urge to cut myself and I hate it."
Madeleine ran his fingers through Espresso's hair. "You aren't stupid, don't say that," He said. "It's an addiction, darling. You do it to cope, I know you do. It's a difficult habit to break. And besides, recovery isn't linear; you're gonna relapse sometimes."
"I hate myself for doing it to you," Espresso choked out. He kept his head firmly against Madeleine's chest. "I know it hurts you. I hate hurting you. I hate doing this to you. You deserve so much better than me." His voice trembled as he held back tears that threatened spill over.
Madeleine let out a small sigh before gently stroking his hair. "Shh... I know, I know," He said softly. "I'm not upset with you, love. I'm just... God, I'm just so scared that one day you'll go too far, and-and I won't be able to help, and-" Another sob interrupted him, his voice cracking. "I love you, and I'm scared of losing you."
"I won't do that. I couldn't possibly do that to you," Espresso muttered, and a shiver ran through him as he thought back to how deep he'd been tempted to cut earlier. He knew he was lying, but he had to reassure Madeleine. "I love you too."
Madeleine sighed, pressing a small kiss on his forehead. "I love you more." He smiled. "Now close your eyes. You need to rest," Madeleine said as he continued to run his hand through Espresso's hair. "You'll feel better in the morning, I promise."
Espresso let out a quiet sigh and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax in Madeleine's embrace. The rise and fall of his chest and heart were a soothing motion, and it allowed him to begin to fade off into sleep.