Nicks and Scratches - Firepound Angst x Comfort
I peeked into the kitchen. No one's in there. Good...
I opened the knife drawer, grabbing one of the small steak knives. Sure, there were definitely some larger and much sharper knives, but it'd be less noticeable if one of these went missing. After grabbing the knife, I snuck into the bathroom, locking it behind me so no one would walk in.
I sat on the floor against the wall next to the sink, looking at the small knife in my shakey hands. I gently dragged my finger across the ridged edge, checking how sharp it was. As I did, I remembered everything from today that had led up to this.
The merge was today, and throughout the whole challenge, I've been yelling and screaming at every little thing, including Pound. I never meant to, but the look in his eyes every time I snapped at him. It pained me to see him like that, to be so afraid of me...
As I gently pressed the pointy edge of the knife at my forearm, a part of me started screaming.
What are you doing!? Stop! This isn't necessary!
I took a breath, and told myself "I deserve this". I slowly dragged the knife across my arm. I kept doing this, all over my arm. Despite it's ridged edge, all the knife did was nick and scratch at my skin. It hurt, but not enough. Part of me wanted to press harder, stab, make myself bleed, but the other half of me, which was the scared-shitless half, overpowered.
I deserve this. I deserve this. I DESERVE THIS...
After I had done what I had felt was enough damage, I slowly left the bathroom to put the steak knife in the sink. As I did, I looked at my arm. If it wasn't for the knife I'm holding, someone would've probably just assumed that the cuts were just cat scratches.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching. Shit. I swiftly opened the fridge, pretending to look for something to eat. The footsteps happened to be belonging to Pound, the last person I wanted to see right now.
"Heyyyy, Pound!" I awkwardly said to him, trying to act like I wasn't trying to cut myself a few minutes ago.
"Oh! H-Hey, Fireball." He waved at me, smiling a little. I could see in his eyes that he had a small glint of fear from when I had yelled at him, making me feel worse than I already do right now.
As he left the kitchen, I followed behind him. He went to the living room to sit on the couch, and I sat beside him. I looked at him for a bit, to see if he was okay. He didn't seem to mind my presence, despite the fact that I had basically yelled at him all day. It was quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. After a few minutes, I cleared my throat, trying to break the silence.
"So uhhh... Pound. Y-You're not... Too mad at me... Are you?" I asked, avoiding as much eye contact as I could. He didn't respond. "I'm... I'm sorry for yelling at you. Today was... Rough."
He chuckled a bit. "I forgive you." I glanced at him, and he was smiling at me. I smiled back. Once again, we were silent. It was less uncomfortable this time, but I still did like it...
"... So... Pound. I uhhhh... I need to tell you something."
"Yeah, what is it?" Those soft, trusting eyes. Everything about how he's acting right now was making me feel worse and worse about this...
"What if I.. THEORETICALLY... Was uhhh... Upset at myself, and... Cut... Myself...?" I mumbled half of the sentence, but made it loud enough for him to hear me.
His eyes widened, reasonably concerned about my statement. "Oh. Is that what that thing on your arm is...?" I nodded. "What did you use, Fireball?" His eyes were stern.
I simply got up, went to the kitchen, and came back with a steak knife similar to the one I used. "This isn't the EXACT one I used... But still."
He was quiet for a bit. "... Okay, first off, that's a terrible knife to use. Like, cmon..." I laughed a bit, taken aback by that. "But Fireball, I- What caused you to do this?"
"... Guilt. I yelled at you so many times, and I didn't mean to. You looked so afraid of me, that I felt like I deserved cutting myself." I avoided eye contact with him once again. "There's also that whole thing about Glitchy and Beer Keg being against us, and- I- a lot of things stacked on top of one another, and-"
Before I could say anything else, he stood up and hugged me. A tear pricked my eye as I hugged him back. We both just, stood there, hugging each other. It was... Wonderful.
"Fireball... It's okay. You're okay. Everything is going to be okay..." Pound spoke softly. And deep down... I felt like he was right.
(Okay idk how to end this, but yaay first oneshot done!! Have a wonderful day, guys!)