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Depression.
Something that people has always listened to it and known about it before, yet no one ever sees the full picture of it.
People would often think so lowly about it, underestimate about how bad it can affect a normal person in their every day life, with or without they wanting to.
Each person has their own way to cope with it, and sometimes not many people can understand that for you. Whenever they see the scars appeared on your hand or any other part of the body, they would think of it as like someone who desperately seeks attention, only wanting the fame and not actually suffering from it.
That sometimes make people forget that there are real people suffering with it also, by acting just to not worry anyone else in their life.
Smiling.
Laughing it off.
Pretending.
Or even masking.
Trying to act like they're in their primes, their best state of all while feeling so empty inside. Sadness swelling and overwhelm them inside out, and yet they still push forward with small, breathy cackles to shift people's gaze away from the problem.
As long as no one notices it, they're safe. As long as they keep doing their best at work and at school with no one bother looking at it, they're safe.
Keep smiling, keep acting, keep posting to the sunlight even when they're on the very edge of tiredness.
Keep pushing forward, keep doing their best, keep trying and trying even when their mind is about to collapse at any moment.
Or that's what their mind is trying to say—save them out of this fearful place, this judgemental environment, this…hell. That's what their mind has been doing to them, keeping them in the fight-or-flight state more often than they can ever imagine.
For Seible, also.
He doesn't know how long he has been holding onto nothing, leaving his feet above the ground. He has his sleepless nights, fighting against nightmares almost every day and it's driving him crazy.
The clock keeps ticking at 3 in the morning and everyone has deep fallen asleep in their own rooms. Yet, here Seible is, sitting by his desk and looking at the ceiling, wondering what makes him feel so restless like this. His mind is going haywire with thoughts wanting to disappear, all with the negativity that he's just too scared to share it with anyone.
In fact, sometimes, he feels like he's the one burdening them and keeping them stuck in place like they are right now.
Especially to his romantic relationship with the designer of By The Beat himself.
Loving someone while having depression is both a blessing and a curse. First, you get someone to be there with you through the ups and downs, when you're not feeling like yourself without handling things alone.
And yet, that's also the problem.
Because at one point, you start to feel like you're using them for your own mental state, precisely with your mind fooling you.
Seible loves Freodore, and that is something that can never change. But that doesn't mean he sometimes feels like he's been taking advantage of their love to save him out of his own misery. His mind has been playing games with it, and he already knows how dangerous that mindset can lead him.
He just…doesn't know how to stop it.
Because at one point in life, he starts to believe in it also.
Even when he knows it's not right, he just can't help it.
The wall looks really nice right now, Seible thinks to himself. He's been looking—spacing out at the ceiling for hours, wishing that all these thoughts can go away somehow.
And yet, they never go away. If anything, they keep getting worse and worse.
They pull him into much trouble, and those trouble are lying underneath his sleeves.
Seible looks at his hands as he sighs, feeling the shivers up against his skin. Just the sight of his hand makes he want to vomit, disgusted by his own helpless self.
.
.
.
You might wonder.
Why?
Why is he disgusted by his own self, the one that is sleepless right now?
Because.
Just because.
Because his hands are covered in scars made by a razor cutting against his skin out of his own will and out of his own mind. Because his hands are covered in scars that stay there for a long time, as long as he's still dealing with depression itself.
And Seible hates it, he really does.
He hates how it shows his vulnerability, a sign that he doesn't want to show it to anyone else. He hates how it paints him as someone miserable in other's perspective, looking at him as someone who needs empathy to survive.
He hates how it isn't entirely wrong.
In fact, he needs comfort that isn't overwhelmed, though he knows he's asking for too much right now.
He hates the uncertainty lies between him and the love itself.
He knows it might be his mind playing games with him, but he's now too tired to think that much about it.
All he knows is that it hurts.
It really fucking hurts.
Seible groans to himself as he feels the dull sensation on his hand, clearly in distress with how he's been hurting himself over and over again for the past few months.
Love should feel like a blessing.
Then why does it feel like a curse right now?
He wants to shout everything out, he wants to ask if Freo was fine with him being…his ugly self like this. He wants to know if he's too much to handle or never enough, even thought he has been hearing the other talking about it a dozen times. He wants his heart to beat like a normal human would do, instead of just yearning over nothing like this.
He wants to know how he looks like in Freo's eyes, all with these scars on his hands.
He can't just hide it any longer, not when his heart is aching to know what the other feels about this. He wants to be saved, even when that's so selfish of him again and again like an endless prayer.
He wants to cry.
He really does.
.
.
.
.
.
"Seible? You doing okay?"
Seible quickly turns around at the sight of the man standing behind him, placing a gentle hand on his back.
Freo had been wide awake and gotten out of their bed since when that Seible didn't even notice either. He just stands there by the brunet's side, eyes glinting with such softness that Seible doesn't know how to explain.
Though, it does look like he's worried right now.
Especially at the sight of the brunet sitting alone by the desk, with a razor placed weirdly on the table, carrying the utter bits of blood within.
Especially seeing the brunet sitting like a hollow shell, with mind drifting away to somewhere else.
Fuck.
He knows.
All Seible knows is that Freo notices the razor and everything has been going on already.
"Ahh—! Furi-chan, you scared me!" He doesn't know what to do as he awkwardly laughs it off, trying his very best to laugh away the pain that lingers inside him and on both of his hands.
And yet, Freo remains his gaze onto Seible's face, especially with his swollen eyes and his hands now covered in scratches.
He slowly walks closer as he kneels down by Seible's hand, gently holding them like something delicate that are about to shatter apart at any moment. His sunset eyes now look up at Seible's ocean eyes, staying nothing but just giving Seible all the space he needs to tell him what's going on.
Seible gulps, feeling his own selfish heart almost crumble apart at the sight of the man in front of him right now.
He feels like he doesn't deserve the other's love like this, not when he's been treated like he was something sacred, something precious to the turquoise-haired man.
"Why do you care about me so much?"
He asks, though he quickly stops right when he realizes his voice is much harsher than what he intended to. His eyes look at the man kneeling in front of him, searching for any possible kind of discomfort hearing that from him.
Yet, all he can ever find is just tenderness and care—the kind that would always be there for him, nevertheless.
It gives him space to adjust himself to what lies ahead, letting himself get comfort in such care without getting overwhelmed. As if Freo was always there for him just like now, waiting for his calls patiently despite his imperfections.
Why?
"Why are you still here for me…when I'm trying to push you away?"
"Why won't you leave me die hanging when I'm too much like this?"
"Why do you love me so much?"
He just doesn't want to hurt the other man. He just doesn't want to be the one weighing both of down into the depths of despair. He doesn't want to be the one holding them back from whatever aim they have for the upcoming future waiting ahead.
But that part is kept hidden inside his hear instead, already feeling overwhelmed more than enough to voice out his own worries.
Freo is just there and listening to him, all ears on him without any sign of protest to whatever Seible's been doing right now. His hands remain as soft as ever ontop of Seible's, gently rubbing circles.
His head leans forward as he tenderly places small kisses across Seible's scratches on his hands, all bloody but he doesn't mind it. He just keeps everything sacred with tender touches, leaving Seible room to feel such affection just for him.
"I love you and I love your scars."
"I love everything about you, Seible."
His eyes look up at the man now crying in front of him as he gently wipes it away, letting the brunet sob under his warm embrace. He hums some kind of melody to soothe out what feels too heavy inside the other's chest, for the heart that feels like too precious like a red crystal.
Seible is just there, sitting by his desk, sobbing his heart out with the way Freo cares about him just like this. The night suddenly feels much lighter than before, with Seible now can finally feel the pain ease out itself.
It makes him feel more than appreciated and loved, especially when both of them are just here together in the late night, when him feels like he's being overwhelmed.
"You are never too much to me. Never."
"I just love the you that cares about me, the you that loves so much it starts to bleed."
He sobs louder and louder, and every time that happens, Freo just hugs him tighter and tighter—letting the other man lean onto him like the only one he can always rely onto.
"I'm always here. Always"
And he really means it.
Freo is just there, present besides the brunet as his way of showing his devotion—his own choice of staying that will never change his mind, not even the brunet himself.
"I cherish you like the moon itself, Swablu. Always has and always will."
And he loves the moon.
He always does.
He's the star that would always seek out for the moon itself. The kind that would always choose to stay in its place with the moon, bringing the light to the nighty sky together.
The moon might feel like it's too much, but for Freo himself, it's more than enough.
Their love is what he always wants to has, always has and always will.
No one can change his mind about that, not even the pessimistic and not even the foolish rumors set in between.
Depression might be overwhelming.
But it's never for him, for the Freodore himself.
He would always choose to stay, present there like how he always would have been. He always choose to be here by Seible's side, despite all the bad and despite all the said negativity gotten in their way.
He loves the moon and also loves its imperfections, even with days when it cannot shine the most.
He loves everything about Seible, even the depression itself has been ruining him inside out. He would choose to be there and accompany, a place made just for him and for him only.
He loves the sweet moon, the Seible that shines and also the Seible that carries on with scars and bruises.
He loves Seible, and that's all that matters.