Warning
- angsty
- mentions of intentional harm to oneself
- depression
- thoughts of ending one's life

Please don't read this if you are sensitive to these topics.

💙

His arms pressed tirelessly against the marble railing, he tapped the butt of his cigarette before pressing the flame against his pale skin, feeling the ash burn into him. It used to hurt; however, now he couldn't feel a thing nor did he notice the purple blotch of his skin. The cold wind began to whisper sweet murmurs; however, his mind was off on a different subject. A different world. A different thought. It was hard to pay attention to the positives when the negatives nagged and nagged and nagged. He heard the slider door open and a soft voice called out to him. 

"Hey… You ignored my texts and I thought something horrible happened to you.. So I came.. To.. Visit. I hope you don't mind my company, especially since you are alone," his voice was like soft music to his ears; however, it felt like there was a planet between them. A void between them. A galaxy between them. He opened his mouth only for the words to get jumbled up in his throat: unavailable to escape the void that surrounded it. 

The shorter blond male took a step towards the taller male and slowly inched. Inched closer to him. Inched closer to the railing. Inched closer to the truth. 

"Is everything alright…? Do you wish to talk about it..?" 

"No. I think I am having an off day, that's all," an attempted smile twitched itself on his thin lips; however, his shorter twin noticed. He noticed everything. He probably noticed the way his eyes didn't sparkle behind his black sunglasses or the way he didn't chuckle to relieve the tension that could be cut by a butter knife.

"An off day?" His younger twin pressed. He always pressed. The other would always crack under the pressure. He bit his lip. Not today. Not today. Not today. 

"Yes." He shifted away from the younger twin, wrapping his arms underneath him as the younger's bright blue eyes noticed him pick at his bandages. "Just having some troubles." 

"Mitchell," the tone of voice startled Mitch out of his feverish picking as the younger twin, Maple, ripped his arm from out underneath him as their blue eyes examined, shivering breaths exhaling out as he felt his twin run his fingers against his pale skin. 

"Why?" 

The question swept him off his feet as his words felt congested in his throat, STILL. How could he defend himself when he CLEARLY burnt his fate on his skin? His twin took a step back, examining him. Observing him. Judging him. 

At that second, he felt his weight give in, his knees slamming into the gentle balcony as his fingernails dug themselves past his bandages and into his flesh. His old wounds that never did heal. 

"Mitch! Please! I know it's hard to talk to me but I am your brother: I am here for you!" He leaned forward, softly taking off the male's sunglasses, noticing his matted lashes and glossy gray grave eyes. "I can't help you if you don't open up to me." 

"There's so much weight," he choked out. He knew Maple could see past his black shades as he lifted himself up and glanced over at the city as soft drops of rain started around them. He drew a puff from his cig as he murmured: "The weight of the world." 

The city lights blurred the dark surroundings in swirling colors of yellow. Mitch tilted his head down as he watched cars zoom by, making the street look like an orange flame. No matter where he looked, he couldn't find comfort in any of the exposure. He couldn't find the warmth the colors boasted. 

"My mind is such a mess, I can't..  This is dumb. I don't want to bring you down with me being sad and everything. It'll pass. Happiness comes in waves… I KNOW. I heard it all before," his voice broke away from the gentleness as anger manifested in the cracks of his health. His younger twin flinched and only moved closer, his blue eyes keeping the softness it always had. 

"Shit, I didn't mean to snap at you—" and that caused the American to press his back against the railing. Maple only knitted his hands with his older brother and guided him back to where he was standing just a bit ago. 

"It's valid to feel sad. You don't have to get better in just one day: you're allowed to heal for however long you need! I am here for you, Mitch. I don't want you hurting yourself, okay? I love and care about you." He grabbed the taller twin and gripped him in a bear hug, his arms squeezing into the male' spine.  

"I can’t handle it," Mitchell spoke up, his body beginning to shake. He felt no tears fall from his heavy eyes as he pressed on. "I’m at the end of my rope. I’m so sick of this! I’m so over it! Why won’t you let me let go?" 

"Because you are my twin. My older brother. My older half. I love you. I look up to you. I'd be DEVASTATED if you said goodbye, if you stepped off the ledge tonight. I'd miss you. Buck would miss you. Think of Angel? The world? It wouldn't be the same without you. You are a blazing light," Maple argued. His voice tense as he dragged Mitchell away from the balcony. He didn't want his brother to make a split decision that would end in consequences. 

"I don't like myself very much. Despite all your kind words…" his voice breathed out, catching Maple off guard. "Can’t explain why I’m hurting myself but it feels deserved." 

"Here, why don't I take you out of the house? Go do something fun? Take your mind off of things? Perhaps you need a change in pace!" He watched Maple's eyes beam and he couldn't help but feel his lips twinge at the pure excitement his brother eloquently portrayed. 

Maple took his older twin by the hand, leading him inside out the door! The hour the two shared rekindled the youthful fun Mitch hadn't felt in awhile. They ate cotton candy by the beach, strolled by the park and ate hotdogs as the sunset set in the distance. Mitch had been laughing all the way through the journey and he didn't even realize that Maple had led him right back to home. 

"Want me to stay the night?" Maple asked, tilting his head towards the ceiling. 

"Nah, you made me feel better. I can handle it from here. Besides! It was my turn to spend the night at your house so no getting out of it!" Teased Mitch, who only pushed the wooden door open, a smirk drawn across his lips as Maple pouted. 

"Fine! Text me when you get settled in!!" The Canadian spun on his heels and went south down the hallway as Mitch closed the door, his eyes locking themselves on his reflection: the same dread from before manifested within the corners of his mind. 

… Until he heard music playing from somewhere down the hall. Buck had told him that he and Angel would be back on Sunday: surely they couldn't be home THIS early? His footsteps creaked along the wooden floor… 

Creak. 

Creak. 

Creak. 

C r e a k. 

The music was behind a closed door: the master bedroom. He quickly jolted the door open, his thoughts racing as he saw a silhouette standing in the corner of the room. He felt like a deer in headlights. There was SOMEONE in the corner. His heart thumped. 

He flicked the light on. 

"I thought I would pay you a visit. Maple said you were having a hard time." The figure said, moving towards the bed before gently sitting himself upon the quilted blanket. 

"I think I am having an off day, that's all," an attempted smile twitched itself on his thin lips; however, the silhouette noticed. He tilted his head towards the ceiling. He probably noticed the way his eyes began to dull behind his black sunglasses or the way he didn't chuckle to relieve the tension that could be cut by a butter knife.

"An off day? Not quite sure that's the reason. Why not try again? I have all night." 

"Surprising. Never took you as someone who cared," he wished he could take back the words that flatly fell so ugly out of his mouth. He would overthink his word choice after this.. Until it would make him sick. Just like the tiring thoughts that pounded against his temples. 

The male didn't seem bothered, though. He hummed, tapping his clean-shaven chin as he finally picked out words he deemed sophisticated. "I have come here to talk. I want to help you. I care about you, Mitch. I hate seeing you struggling so hard with your thoughts. With your feelings. With life. I wanna make that easier." 

"I couldn't even open up to Maple, what makes you think you're so special? You left ME all alone," his voice had been laced with poison. This time, the shorter gentleman leaned forward. 

"I know you can't forgive me for what I have done. For the PAIN I caused you by leaving but I want you to know that I CARE. When Maple told me you were burning yourself and opening your wounds up, how could I NOT get involved?" His brown eyes were leveled upon the American, who fingered his bandages. "Take off your bandages. I wanna see." 

And he did just that. He didn't know why he followed the male's instructions; however, all he knew was this: he was too damn tired and too worn to fight. 

"I don’t feel strong enough." Mitch hid his arms behind his back as the male scooted closer, beckoning the male to sit down on the bed next to him. His feet felt glued to the floor: he couldn't. It felt like the conversation he had with Maple. He'd feel better and result in feeling like shit afterwards. Same old story. He couldn't handle it. 

"You don't have to be strong enough. For now, just tell me everything. I will listen." The warmth in his voice felt like nothing Mitch had ever heard before… like this was a different person from the grump that sat two desks away from him. He sat down on the bed and flung his arms within his lap. He felt the male's cold hands grip his fingers. He couldn't resist the shiver that snaked down his spine. 

The light was left on as Mitch showed the scars that looked like beautiful stars on his flesh. The purple blotches from intentional burning like fluffy clouds as he watched the male's warm eyes scan down the harm he had inflicted upon himself. 

"Are you ashamed? Ashamed someone you raised turned out to be a fuck up?" He meant for it to come off as a dry joke; however, he missed the coffin by a landslide. 

"For you, I will leave on the light. I am not ashamed of how you grew up. Lookit you. A young adult. Married. Committed father. You have done everything right. You must feel so proud of yourself. Your flaws and all make you a wonderful human being, America." 

And he was embraced in a hug. 

He… he NEVER showed physical affection… even with the love of his life. There were always small actions here and there… nothing PDA or overly romantic. Mitch sat there stunned until he felt the soft squeeze: an invitation to hug back. His eyes couldn't help but swell up as tears poured like a waterfall down his pale cheeks. 

"Even if the sky falls down. I am here, Mitch. Maple is here. Others are here. You are NEVER alone nor are you a burden. A fuckup. Everything is okay… even if it doesn't feel like it." 

Words: 2015