Dashiell hurried back to his room. He was just so angry and frustrated. He had to get away from everyone, or else he would end up hurting someone.
He slammed the door shut behind him, tears were running down his cheeks and his hands were clenched to fists at his side. He lost control of his breathing and his heart was hammering painfully against his chest.
Without warning, he began hitting the wall as hard as he could while screaming. He felt how the skin on his knuckles split and blood was running down his arms, he didn’t care though and he didn’t stop. He needed to feel the pain. To feel something physical. “I went too far, and I know that,” Isandros said. You still destroyed my body. You made me go through so much pain. You ruined me. You broke me. He pressed his forehead hard against the wall, clenching his eyes shut while breathing heavily. The tears kept streaming down his cheeks. The blood from his knuckles was dripping down onto the floor, leaving small red marks all around him. He wanted to get out of his body, to leave it all behind, and never come back. He collapsed onto the floor and curled himself together. “I can’t.” He whispered to himself as he gripped his own hair, pulling it hard enough to make the pain roll through his skull. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-” He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t hear the door opening.
“Dashiell,” Averet yelled with a hint of panic in his voice, as he ran to his side. He took Dashiell’s hands in his and looked at the bleeding wounds. He took hold on his arm and forced him to sit up before he pulled him into a tight hug. “What happened?” He asked gently, stroking up and down his back to calm him down. Dashiell didn’t answer. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He had no control over his own body, and he felt as if he were a stranger in his own skin. He buried his face in Averet’s neck and breathed him in. “Did someone hurt you? Just talk to me.”
“No one touched me,” Dashiell said as he clung to Averet as his whole life depended on it. “Don’t let me go! Please, don’t let me go.”
“I’m not going to. Try to breathe.” He could feel Averet’s breath against his cheek. “Breathe, Dashiell.” He whispered. Dashiell wasn’t thinking. He pulled away from him, looked him deep into the eyes for just a second, before leaning in and pressed their lips together. Averet didn’t move. He just sat there as if in shock. It took Averet a second to collect himself again. He pushed Dashiell gently away and shook his head. “Dashiell,” he said out of breath. “please don’t do that again.” His voice was low and shaky. Dashiell had gone too far this time.
“I’m sorry.” He cried. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He was feeling ashamed of himself. He crossed a line that he shouldn’t have, and it was making his friend uncomfortable. Averet didn’t want this. He didn’t want him. “I’m sorry.” He was a sobbing mess. This little mistake could ruin everything. It could destroy the only friendship he'd ever had... why did he even do this? As if kissing Averet would've taken all the pain away from him. A kiss couldn't do that. A sharp pain was shooting through his stomach. He was about to lose everything.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Averet took his hand and squeezed it “I’m just not interested in that. I’m sorry if I made you believe I was.” Dashiell released a shaky breath as the pain inside of him subsided a little. Averet wouldn't have taken his hand or apologized if he was going to push Dashiell away.
“No, I know you’re not interested. I don’t know why I did it.” Dashiell looked down at their linked hands.
“Just tell me what happened,’’ Averet said. Dashiell felt Averet’s grip on his hand tighten as his other hand began caressing his back again. Through all the pain and all his suffering, he felt a little sigh of relief inside of him. It wasn't enough to pull him out of his panic, but it was enough to ease the pain.
“Isandros.” Dashiell answered.
“What did he do?” Averet said through gritted teeth, he’s breathing began to quicken and anger shone from his eyes. Averet looked like he was ready to kill his prince right here, right now if Dashiell asked him to.
“He apologized,” Dashiell mumbled. “He apologized and I freaked out on him. I said some bad things. He made me realize just how broken I am... and now he’ll punish me for talking back to him like that… I can’t go through it again! I can’t!” his body was shaking and he could stop it. He knew that he had fucked up. Isandros would have him whipped for talking to him like that. He would torture him. Break him slowly before ending his life. He wished that his misery would just end fast. That it would just be over quickly. He hoped that Averet would spear him from the pain when they would tie him to the cross again, and just pierce his fucking heart with his sword so he wouldn’t have to go through that horrible feeling of having his skin ripped off his back ever again. He was broken and he couldn’t see how he would ever become whole again.
“He won’t hurt you again,” Averet assured him, but Dashiell knew that he didn’t believe his own words. Of course, he would hurt him. He had hurt him for less than this.
“Promise me that if he orders me to the cross again, you’ll kill me fast.” He pleaded and looked Averet straight in the eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. He wanted them to be the last thing he ever saw.
“No!” Averet yelped, shaking his head fiercely. “No, Dashiell. I won’t do that.”
“Please,” He begged “I can’t go through that again. I want it to be quick.”
“I made you a promise, remember?” Averet said. “I told you, that I would take the fall for you. I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I'll talk to him.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt either, so please don’t do that. I can’t live with myself if you die because of me.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault.” Averet smiled at him as he stood up. “It’s my own choice. I’m going to talk to him, and I will not allow him to touch you ever again.” He walked towards the door with a sad smile on his lips. “I am a man of my word.” He opened the door and walked out and closed it behind him.
“Averet, no!” Dashiell yelled. He sprang to his feet and ran towards the door and tried to pull it open, but it was locked. “Don’t do this!” He was screaming as he began banging on the door. His hands were hurting and he was leaving bloody handprints on the door, but it didn't matter, he had to get out. He had to stop Averet. “come back!”
But Averet didn’t come back and no one was there to let him out. He cried hysterically as he kept hitting the door. “Please, don’t.” He whispered. He couldn’t lose his friend, but there was nothing he could do now. Erat wouldn’t be here until much later and then it would already be too late. No one else would be able to let him out.
Hours went by and Dashiell was lost in his own mind once more. He had lost the first and only person who’d ever cared for him and it was all his fault.
He laid on his bed, staring out into the thin air because it was all he could do. He thought about his father and how he’d tried to kill him and he wished he had succeeded. It would have spared him from so much pain, humiliation, and fear. It would have been quick and maybe even painless. Dashiell wanted to rewind time and go back to that day and allow his father to stab him. Then Averet would still be alive. His friend would never have seen the real side of Isandros, no, he would just happily have served him as he used to, and Isandros would treat him well. Averet is dead! There was no doubt that Isandros would do that as an act of last revenge against Dashiell. Isandros knew how much it would hurt him and the prince was so keen on making Dashiell’s life a living hell that he was willing to sacrifice one of his own men… His own friend, to do so.
He didn’t cry anymore because he couldn’t feel anything beyond the emptiness. A black hole had replaced his heart and made him numb to the world.
Every time he closed his eyes Averet’s beautiful face appeared. Those strong blue eyes and that big bright smile was the only thing he could think about. If Averet had been interested in him he would gladly give him his heart. He imagined waking up next to him every morning. He wanted to take their clothes off and feel every inch of their bodies pressed together. He wanted to trace kisses all over Averet's back, letting his lips heal the deep scares there to ease the pain. He wanted to feel Averet’s lips and hands on his body, to feel him inside of him. Dashiell knew that Averet would be gentle with him. He wouldn’t fuck him. No, he would make love to him and it would be beautiful, calm, and perfect.
Dashiell would never be worthy of someone like him. Averet would deserve so much better. Someone who wasn’t as broken as Dashiell was. Someone he could be proud of. No one deserves to waste their lives on a whore like you! Dashiell's mind told him.
He began thinking about Erat. He hoped that he would be okay without his captain and that his death wouldn't break him too much. If he would just keep his distance to Dashiell from now on Isandros wouldn’t hurt him. Dashiell wanted Erat to forget all about him. To treat him as what he was. A whore. A prisoner. A worthless piece of shit.
Maybe he would be lucky enough that he would blame him for Averet’s death and then kill him. Erat cared about his captain and he would jump in front of a sword for him without a doubt. He would give his own life away because that’s the kind of person he is. Dashiell had always wanted to be brave, just like Erat was, but he wasn’t.
He wondered if it would be easy for Erat to kill him, or if he would feel split when he stood before Dashiell, ready to put his sword through him. He didn’t know if he would hesitate before finishing him off or if he would be filled with so much hatred that he would do it without a second thought.
Dashiell took a deep breath and got out of bed. He couldn’t even think anymore now. Everything had shut down and he was nothing but an empty shell. He wasn't going to let Isandros kill him... he wasn't going to put his death on Erat's shoulders, he could never do that to him. He had to find another way that wouldn't get anyone else hurt.
He walked out onto the balcony and breathed in the fresh air. The sun had begun to go down and it colored the sky in a light pink nuance. It was absolutely beautiful and it brought the smile back on his lips. He forced himself to memories all of it. Everything… from the shape of every single cloud to the feeling of the cold breeze against his skin and how it felt as his hair flickered slightly in the mild wind. Such a beautiful day deserved to be remembered and cherished. It deserved to get songs and books written about it. It deserved the attention of every soul in the world. Dashiell would remember it and cherish it until the end.
He wondered what death would actually feel like. Would it be all darkness; would he simply just disappear or would he be reunited with Averet on the other side where there would be no more pain, no more humiliation. Just them and their happiness. He’d wondered about it so many times, but for the first time, it felt like it was the right time.
He took one last deep breath before walking back inside, letting the fresh air fill his lungs until they felt like they were bursting.
His body didn’t feel like his own when he moved around. It was like it was having its own life, led by an invisible force that he had no control over.
He went out to his bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. The person who stared back at him wasn’t him. It was a stranger. Sure, he looked like him, but something was different. His beautiful blue and brown eyes where mat, his skin paler than ever, his hair had lost all glance and his lips were dry and split. He hated the person looking back at him. Everything was his fault.
He stared himself into the eyes for what felt like hours before taking a step back. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. His chest was broader than it used to be, and he could see the traces of muscles that had begun to form on his stomach. The hard training had made him much leaner and much more attractive, but none of that mattered. He took the small mirror from the table beside the bathtub and walked back in front of the big mirror.
He wanted his whole body to look like the front of him. Perfect and unmarked by the horror he’d been through. Wasn’t it enough that his soul had been ruined slowly throughout his whole life? Was it really necessary to take that one thing he was still proud of away from him?
Slowly he began to turn around. His eyes were closed as he stood with his back turned to the big mirror. He held the small one up and took a deep breath. He tried to open his eyes, but his body betrayed him. He began to shake as he fought against his anxiety. Breathe! He opened his eyes slowly - a million thoughts filled his mind all at once; You're ugly. You're disgusting. Whore. Whore. Whore - and then he looked into the mirror, eyes scanning over his bareback and it makes his stomach drop. It was ugly, the scares were big, some of them had turned white, others were still red and swollen. He clenched his fists around the handle of the mirror, hands haking fiercely as the anger boiled up inside of him again. He clenched his teeth before throwing it hard into the wall. It shattered and left pieces of broken glass all over the floor. Dashiell's breathing had quickened so much that he felt like he was about to pass out. He turned around and stared angrily at his own reflection again before smashing his fist into it, shattering it.
He couldn’t take this anymore. The pain, the fear, the humiliation had to stop; it was destroying him. He was nothing but a broken, miserable whore. He had no future and his dreams of a life free from all of this were just a fantasy. It would never happen to someone like him. If he continued, he would be like this for the rest of his life… A cheap fucking whore.
He sat down on the floor and grabbed a piece of the shattered mirror. It was cutting into his hand and blood was dripping onto his leg, but he embraced the pain.
He looked at it while pressing it hard against his right wrist. “It’s all going to be over soon.” He whispered as the glass pierced the skin. “No more”. He leaned back and clenched his teeth as he pressed harder, feeling the skin split from his wrist and up to his forearm. The cut was deep, and blood had begun to pool around him. It wasn’t enough. He pressed the glass against his left wrist and cut in deep. It’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay now.
He relaxed against the wall and looked down at his bleeding wrists. It didn’t hurt as much as he had expected, but he began to feel dizzier and dizzier. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, and the last thing he saw in his mind before everything went black, was those beautiful blue eyes.
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