@kitty.catcatz

1 week ago

(Cold character, traumatised? Heh..)

He was warming up to me. Yesterday, I'd seen the scars- a constant reminder of the pain he inflicted on himself years ago. Long sleeves were now a foreign concept to Max. I greeted said concept warmly, grinning eagerly and praising his growth.
At first, it was simple. Back then, he hid himself stubbornly, keeping all barriers closed. Every time we're together, engaged in cheery conversation, his composure fades ever so slightly more- and I find myself listening to him talk, about his past, his hobbies, his interests, rather than my own voice.
I find it hard to enjoy being around Max anymore. Keeping up that sunshine-like exterior is the only way to handle my forever increasing disgust of the man.

Every revelation simply brings me one step closer to abandoning him, as those did before me.

Part 2 (Max's POV)

I couldn't believe I struck so lucky.
Before I became acquaintanted with Avery, I typically found myself reclused to the corner, watching idly as the other students passed by, snickering and calling me unspeakable things. It wasn't as if I cared - I kept up the stoic demeanor, hiding my true vulnerability.
But when Avery transfered from Georgia, my life altered. For whatever reason, they took to me. They didn't mind my unusual interests, or my eccentric quirks... in fact, it only served to make them more fond of me. Or so I thought.
After two months of friendship, Avery's cheerfulness had begun to fade, though I suspected it was the norm when you'd been friends for so long - the initial intrigue gradually leaves. Despite this, I was certain Avery and I would remain friends for a lifetime.
Yet, after four, they seemed to be distancing themself from me. Making excuses so that we couldn't hang out after school. They looked at me with a distinct emotion of disgust in their eyes, as if scrutinising my every move.
I relapsed. Bright red blood spilled from my wrist after I sliced it, the marks I had shown Avery, trusting them blindly, never healing. Whatever little regard I held of myself was thrown to the side.

A part of me, the stupidest, most idiotic part of me, longed to feel their love again, to be held in their arms as I sobbed about my broken family. Though, that'll never happen again. Not with anyone.
I suppose I was so blinded by my own adoration for Avery that I failed to realise their increasing loathing of me.

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