[ There is no fight, and he hates that more than anything. More than any of the others, he thrives on anger - not his own, but that of others. Hatred, seething hatred, is his childhood home just as much as the Belmont House ever was. He knows it, every little hidden passage and hiding place. And it used to be so easy to go back to that lonely, cold, safe place where he could be as shitty as he wanted, because nobody deserved him to be better.
He wants a fight. He wants to hurt. He wants to drink and scream and jump off the fucking boat. And his mind stops at that last one, because he really does want it, and hasn't that part of him been quiet for a fucking long time. So he lies still. Perfectly still, staring up at the ceiling
It's a long time before he finally reaches for the water. His throat aches and he doesn't know why, like there's some sort of pressure on it. His skull still feels like it's splitting open around the bad eye.
He chokes on it.
He chokes and then there's water coming out of his nose and he's coughing his throat raw and tears are streaming down his face and he can't breathe and he doesn't fucking want to breathe anyway and fuck this is pathetic.
Breath comes easier after a few moments. He lets himself slide from the bed and onto the floor with a graceless thump, then brings his knees up to his chest and buries his face in them, a soft, quiet stream of curse words and choked sobs. ]
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He wants a fight. He wants to hurt. He wants to drink and scream and jump off the fucking boat. And his mind stops at that last one, because he really does want it, and hasn't that part of him been quiet for a fucking long time. So he lies still. Perfectly still, staring up at the ceiling
It's a long time before he finally reaches for the water. His throat aches and he doesn't know why, like there's some sort of pressure on it. His skull still feels like it's splitting open around the bad eye.
He chokes on it.
He chokes and then there's water coming out of his nose and he's coughing his throat raw and tears are streaming down his face and he can't breathe and he doesn't fucking want to breathe anyway and fuck this is pathetic.
Breath comes easier after a few moments. He lets himself slide from the bed and onto the floor with a graceless thump, then brings his knees up to his chest and buries his face in them, a soft, quiet stream of curse words and choked sobs. ]