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Tags
Summary
“Well this is just sad, Vincent.” Alastor’s voice cut through the fog in Vox’s mind. He sounded less mocking than one might expect, yet he didn’t sound empathetic, either. This was simply a neutral statement from him, as he stood in the corner of Vox’s bedroom with his arms tucked behind his back.
“W-what the fuck, Al?” Vox shrieked in shock, dropping the razor and trying to grab something to cover his arm up with. It was useless, of course, Vox knew Alastor saw it already. And he was here to mock and humiliate Vox, he was sure of it.
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Vox is feeling like shit and cuts himself about it. Alastor thinks he should be the one doing the cutting instead, yet in a surprisingly soft and loving way.
Is it self-harm if your long-time enemies with benefits messy situationship does it for you instead? The jury's still out on that one.
Series
- Part 2 of Crashing Wavelengths