TW: self-deprecating/su/c/dal thoughts, cursing, panic attack, mention of verbal ab/se/bullying, s/lf-h/rm (hair pulling, banging/hitting self, c/tting [heavily implied])

🖤Chapter 21: Avoidance-
Anxiety goes to his room and thinks about the recent event.

Third Person POV:

He appeared in his room, immediately running toward his door. The door slammed loudly as he shut it, stumbling as he locked the door with his trembling hands. It clicked, and the anxious side took a step back. His gaze went to the floor and he threw himself against the wall, his breathing unsteady.

"SAY SOMETHING, YOU- YOU-

Ḑ̸̡̮̦̳͖̰̘̣̙̣͆̽̏̅̆̅́̉̓͋̚͜͠I̶̛̪̜̠̝̟̿̑͛̂̿̔͘͘S̵̡̡̮̙̖̜͉̮͚̽̄̆̐͛̊̆̀͜Ō̷͖͓̻̦͇̲͈͍̖R̵̛̘͙͆̀̀̈́̆̀̐́̄̋̔͋͘Ḑ̵̧̲̺̰̟̝̥̩̳̩͙̘͊̄Ȩ̸͖͙̳̝͇͍͉͈͉̯̦͊̓͂̉̽̄͠R̴͉̰͔̭̈́̍̂̏͌͊̿̏̈̽͘͘"

The other side's words repeated in his head. Virgil couldn't get the look the creativity trait gave him out of his head. The pure hate in the other's eyes. The anger.

Everything weighted down on Anxiety. Salty tears ran down his cheeks, eyeshadow collected in the water, leaving black trails on his face. His foundation was wearing off, his red eyes revealed and his pale skin white, shocked from the events before. He couldn't hide it anymore.

Virgil curled in on himself, sliding down the wall. His head rested on his knees, close to his chest, hands covering his eyes. Almost losing his balance from his severe shaking, he tried to calm himself.

But that didn't work.

He sobbed. He didn't care anymore. His cries echoed and bounced around the walls, being the only sound in the room.

'I knew he hated me but... did he really hate me that much?'

A̷̘̝̞̳̣͓͆̽̃̏́͊̄̂͗̾́̄̚̚͝m̷͔̬̣̹̮̳̥̝̱̬͍̲̦̆́̔̄̐̈́̀̆̉̎̉̒̔ ̴̟̊͑̊̄͝Ì̷͔̹͕̚ ̷̡̲̜̹̤̱̈́̓r̸̢͖̖̮̓͒̆͛̅̉̎̈̆͑́̓̅͝ȩ̷͔̤̑̋͒͜a̴̜̥̮̤͇̬̙̒͊̋̽͋̋̄͑̃͑̅̂̚͘l̴̗͚͉̓̓̂͛̾̍͐̉͒̋͂͠l̴̝̼͈̏͐͜y̶̨͚̟̼̼͕͔͓̠̰̩̹͖̟͂͑̂̈́͜͝͝ ̴̜̲͚͓͉̼͇̙͇̟̏̌̚ͅt̴̡̡̡̻͈̠͚̩̳̦̪̾̉̈́͝h̶͓̩͆̀̒͝͝å̴̢̪̠̰̩̈́̀̅̃̒̊͌̃͘͝t̵̛̼͕̙͌͑̋̄̎͂̚͝ͅ ̴̥̭̤̣̬̙̯̰̙̰͖́͆̓͘͝ͅͅà̷̘̝̜̠̼̜̌̑̈́̿̍͠ͅn̸̬͉̈͂̆̚͜͠͝n̸̛͉͋̊̓̅̄̂o̸̞͎̝̫̱͉̙͍̞̣̺͂̇̿͊ý̸̡̧͈̗̬̩̣̮̥͉̂̉͆̑͌͒̅͊̉́͆͆̒̀͜ĩ̵͎̖̫̤̖̔͂͋̈͆̓̐͝ņ̵̞͚̦͇̗͓̇̋̀͑̑̿̍͗̚͜g̵̙̦͓̼͇̙̯̘͇͚̺̖̥̾̋̂̉͑̈́̏͗̈̄̕?̴̛̰͕͙̙̠̺̭̮̤̾̏́̉̓́̑̈́͌̎͘

Of course, you are. You're Thomas' anxiety. You hurt him.

D̴̨̛̖̞̱͈̯̜̱̤͉̰̪̰͐̈́͐̒̄̈́̃ͅo̴̢̤̮̮̗͈̮̬̒͆͋̈́̈́͆́̿͘é̷̡͈̞͎̥͓̙̰̈́͊̈́́̾̋̆́̾͝ş̷̭̤͖͍͖̭̥̯̙̝̫͓͍̻̈͆̃͐̃͆̔̉̒̒͐́͠ ̶̨̧̮͎̯̺͇͙͔̔̊̓͛̑̓̈́̈́̈́̉̕̕͘͝͠Ŗ̷̲͖̖͇̯̭̼̬̫̼̼̼͈͍̄̃͗̉̐͂̽͑̕ȍ̴̢͍̖̲̩̱̮͖̪̙͈̱͉͍̮̓̃̃̏̃̍̑͂̔͛̈́̅̕͠m̸̧͓̟̺̪͎̳̫͖̦̜͉̭̠̐̀̍̂͂̊͗͐̈̀̈̌̑͝͝ą̷̧͇̤͍͙͇̼̬̒̒̽̈͂͒͋̿͜ṉ̷̡̨̯̤̥̠̫̬̫͚͓̝̳̫̒́̋́̑̂͌̎̽͌̅͝ ̴̱̔̾͋͐̍̽͑̔̑̕͝ŕ̵̜̪̮̮̖̰̱͚̟̻̅̈́̆̐̀̈́̿̅̚ͅḛ̸̢̡̫̩̹̥̍́͆̇͛͆̇̔͆͘̚ḁ̷͖̟̞̭͗̌̿̏͌̈̋́́͝͝͝͝͝l̶̬̻̠͌l̶͎̪̺̥͕̑͑y̵̧̦̖̤̠͎̩̹̟̽̎͋͒̋̈́̾ ̶̛̘͚̫̯̠̰̎̈̈̎͆̾͐̿̂͝ͅḣ̸̘̲͍͖̩̻̹̯͈̏͛͊́͗̓̋͌ͅa̶̛͇̰̱͎͓̻͓̔̑͋͆̄͒̀͒͘͜t̵̝͊͒̿͝ȩ̶̦̞͔̇̌̋̑̍͂̚̕͝ ̸͓̥̑̆̆m̵̨̛͚̯̄͒̂̈́̆̾̇̍̾̀̉ē̵̪̱̥̼̪̈́̎͒͒̀̅̓͋?̷̧̧̲̞̦͉̤̖͉̜̽̓͊̃̾̅̐͊̈ͅ

Do you blame him? There is everything to hate about you.

The small personality ignored the voice in his head. But, he believed it.

"̵̨̡̥̻̞̟͙̓̋͒ͅÌ̷͇̲͑̔̑̂͐̃̋̿́̽̂͒̽͝'̵̧̜̭͎̥͍̩̪͕̪̍̒̀͆̐̔̓͋̀m̸̧̫̣̜̅̋̍̾̓̂̋͗͋̌̉͝-̶̺̮̟̙̼̣̼̼̩̖̓̿̀̓̊́͆̆́̈́́͊ ̷̨̡̛͎̦̖̙͙̼̩͉̱͚̖̟̅͒̍͌͋͋̐͌̆̂͊͜I̴̼̼̫̻̳̒̓̎̅͊͌͠͝͝'̶̢̫̮̥̼͔͙̰͉͙̣̩̻̤̬̐̈́́m̵̨̩͚̯̻̻̮̬̪̘̦̜͑̅̈͌̒͂͋̈́́̂͐͠͝ ̷͚̼̱̜̭̺͇͓̦̭̫͎̇̚͘s̶̨̢̟̪̙̮̯̘̫͕͓̪͎͖̆͐̀̋͂͗͊̾̓͗̋̊o̵̡̧̝̩̪̘̹͇̪̯͒̀͛̍ͅr̵͓̘͈̱͊̄̐͐̈́̋̃̇̀̈́͂̎̆̚ŕ̶̛͎̪̹͖͔̿̏̅̽̓͌̑̽͐̋̇ȳ̶̢̧̳̲̤̲̻̣̌͒̄̅͒͘͜,̷̧̛̱̟̪̺́̉̑̈̅̋́̈́̄̐̍͘͠"̸̢͉̭̦̣̜͗̂͜ he quietly choked out. He repeated the words over and over.

"̵̨̫̘̮͖̘̥̣̜̪͋̐͛͑͒̾͒̾͛̾͌̎̌͝W̴̘͍͎͚͎͇̦͗͗̂̏͘h̵̡̞̱̙̮̺̝̻̺̀͐̈͛̓̋̐̐̓̿̚͠ä̵̠̼̤̻̗̳͙͇̞̥͈́̏t̴̢̟̲̣͙̪͈̩́̈́̀̈́̏̆̈̈́̐͝ ̷̩͈̋̎̅͌́͠ḍ̵̘̳͖͕̟̣̫̮̜̍̒ͅí̶͎̼̞̙̎̀̈́͊́̉̍̚͜͝d̸̢̤̙͙͈͈̻̟̖̞̍͌̽̿̍̈́́͗̈́̽̔͐̾̕͝ͅ ̴̛̝̪͕͓̖͖̟̖̞̜̗͖̇̆̇̅̓̾̂Ĩ̶̢̫̲͉͉̱͋̈̃̂̃̽̈́̈̔͑̐̊͠ͅͅ ̸̱̠̓̄d̸̢̛͙̯̙̬̥̭̤̙̣̾̎͌̈́͌̎̃͘ṓ̸̲̹̪̖̭̰̞͈̻̭͓͍͗́͝ ̸̞̙͚͖̹̥̄w̶̜͇̝͕̹̙͉͖̉̒̅͑-̶̨͙͉̠̺͇̘̦̆w̶̟͕̘̪̹͇̍̂͗̔͐̀̋̃̉͗̋̕͜͝ͅr̷͚͔̰͗̈̾͛̍̍̆̔̆̍̽͝͠͝͠o̸̬̩̯̍̆̉̑͂̚͝ͅn̶̨̮̼̖͋̆̏͊g̸̦̘̞̏̈͗̄͑̈́̈́͊͑̉̃̅͝?̶͈̘̮͕̟̹̳͚̟̀̈́"̴̲̪͎͉̯̫̻̦̟̩͔̈́̍ͅ

You're breathing.

W̸̤̯̩̝͒̄̀͌̐͋̍̄̐͛ḧ̴̨͔́̾̐̊̀̔y̴̟͔̱̪̙͈̏̿̌͐̀̿͐̅́̀̾͘͜͠͠ͅ ̸̤̭̎͌͗͛̽͆̂̐̄̈̂ą̸̨͎͈͇͙̼̮̀̈͑͊̈́̾̈́̑͋̆̓̒͘͝͝ḿ̸̤̮̖̦͖͓̰̩̥͂̃͗̑̅̋͆͂̒̎͘ ̸̺̹͔̹͎̣͍̙̫͔̱̣̏̂̏͑̍̂̿͘Î̴̡̠̠̤͋̑́͊͑͌͗̽̽̈́̾͝ ̷̨̧̺̮̠̯̑̑́̆̈̉͛̊͝ͅͅa̴̢̢̛̱͙̭͇̙͊̒͛͆̀́́̃̔̀͑͝l̵͉̤͐͒͊̽͆̾͋͂̉͝͠w̴̨̧̛̗̼̩̘͍͍͓̋̿̂̀̍̓̕͝͠ȁ̵̱̝̳́̏̇̐͋̆̑͘̕͠͠ÿ̴̧̨̮̦̹̖͔̼̗̟͚̤̈́̈́͐̔̐̀͌̃̈́͊͑͜͝͝s̴͉͉̥͝ ̴͖̥̤̜̯̮͚̪̹̯͑̓́̔̓̀͗̈́̔̚t̷̘̼͙̫̹̻̟̻̑̽̐̇͋̊̍̾̾̅́̇̋͐͝ͅĥ̵͖̜͕͇͍̱̪͋͑̋̆̂̒̒̅̈̍̇̄̚̚͜e̶̘̮̝͎͕͗́ ̸̧͎͚̣̺͋̀́͊̈̚b̷̧̲̳̜̯̣͙͍͕̝̖̈́̎͒̾̐̿͗͝͝ͅͅȁ̷͖͔̟͙̠͖̘́̈͂́̌͜-̵̧̞̙͔͙͎͓̟̬̠̺̯͍͕͙̋͗ ̵̘̣̜͖̼͈̯̄̇̐̍̄͗͗̋̈͐͒̎̕͜͝͝b̶̛̠̰͙̹̣͈͇͍̖͙̟͑̾͊̓͒͗͜͜a̴̡̢̛̻̹͉̯̺͍͇̤͂̂̊͂̑̽d̶̛̾͑̌͌̓̃̄͛̃́͜ ̵̧̛͖̜̖̦̗̬̞̝̯̮̲̅͋̓́̋̈́͛̈́͆̚͜͝ͅg̸̡̨̨̧͍̟̗̤̭̲͑̉̂̌͛͂̈̃͑͘u̴̢̮̙̼̲̮̿̔̊̀̽̓̏̌͒ͅȳ̴͔̒̿̅̀͝?̷̟̹̝̺̱̠͎̯̻͐̊̃́͊̆͂̉̎̃̀̕͜"̵̨͕̪̮̘̱͚̗͍̺͕̬̹̻͙̂́̂̒͘͝

Because you are and always will be.

"̶̦̠͇̦̤̹̙̓̓͆̿͂̾̈̔̽͌͘͝Í̸̢̡̛̩̜͙̜̫̈̅̊̈́̌̀͊̉͜͜͠͠͝͝ ̸̖̲̤͎̫̩̟͍̤̰͗̌͊̌̑̿̾͋̍̆͘̕͝ḍ̷̨̧̢̧͕̻͚͔̝̤̜͒̓̆́͠i̷̡̡̢̘̫̟̰̰͓̯̭͍͎̖̰͗͗̓̾̚̚ḑ̶͉̳̳̗̦̗̼̾͗̆͑̕͘n̷̡̰̈́'̸̛̱̞͊̆̒̽̃̓̃̇̌͝͝ţ̷̻̩̣͉͙͙̯̣̼̪̞̠̏̄̕͝ͅ ̵͓̬͙̈́̋́̏͝͠d̵̨̧̗̮̫̠͓̘̻̰̖̹̲̎̏͜o̸̡̢̞͎̻͕̮̺̪̺̝͓̰̙̓̈́̀̾̆̒̍͋̋͊͋̋͘͜ ̸̡̢̛̺̝̙̼̘̮͖͉̥͕̫̪̗̈́̒̐͌͐͋̈́̿̔̅̊͛̓͝a̶̢̲̝̣̤̠̗͎͖̰̎́͋͗̀͛̎͘ͅn̵̢̢̜̳̖͙̖̮̥̘͚̖͔͒͗̓̃̈̌͑͐̾̉y̷̧̧̪̻͍̠͈̰͈̭̋̆̽̇̾̀̄̏̇́͜ͅ-̸̜̒͂͑̈́̀͝͝ą̴̜͍̳̲̰̤̼̦̣̱̩̌̔͗͗̾͑̀͑̆͘͜ͅn̴̛͕̫̪̝̫̤̓͒̔̀̒̃͑̓̆̚̕͠͠y̷̤̭̪̞͇̮̒͌̐͌́͋̎̃̍̈́͘͘͝t̶͎̖̳̠̪̺̲͍͍̎͐̄̀h̷̢͕̫̤̝͓͎͚̮̏͐̍͒̇̃́̈́͗͐͋̅̋͛͜i̴̳͕̬̭͂̀̔́͌̽̊̀͒͜ņ̴̨͙̃͛̄̉̊̕̕ģ̸͉͓̜̝͓̣͍̖̯̗̰̈́̂͒ͅͅ.̸̧̛̲̤̝̹̭̠̼̟̳̳͋͊͂̈́̔̀̌̃͑̌̀͆̚͝.̶̢̧̮̰̭̹͍͔͉̠̮̈́̇̈͘.̶̣͈̺͚̙̥̹̦͖̺̝̼̱̍͆͜ͅ"̶̡̢̝̥̦͉͎̭̼̮̮̞̈͜ͅ

You existed.

His string of cries continued. Whispering his thoughts out loud while this inner-voice gave him answers.

D̷̨̧̜͔̮̹̠͍͙̺̽ͅȈ̷͈̤͉̖͎̼̩̳̃̑͒̍̉̀̀̈́̊S̸̨̧̯͕̮͓̞͚͈̲͠Ǫ̷̨̢̛̛̘͕̘̘̟̼̮̦͉̼̪͇͛̏́̊̓̾̈́̾͘͠͠R̸͖̲̹͉̫͙̹͚͛́̉̆̓̆̐̈̆̕͝D̶̨̡̺̮͎̗͌̔̀̓̚͜͝E̷̢̺̬̝̩̠̝͙̪̞̯͇̦͈̓̈̉̊̈́͆̑͜R̸̢̪̲͊͐̀̓̽͜ ̶̢̛͓̙͈͍̹̦̌̑͊͗̏͗́͆͑͆̈́̀D̵̩̞̩̖̪̹̳̱̹̰̘̩͌̅́ͅĮ̸̧̜̪͍̤̬͍̩̘̪͋͋͐̋̈́ͅͅS̷̞͕̜̯̥̫̩̏ͅͅO̴͉̹̤̺͙̲͎͈̙͙̪̪͔̎̋͋͂̓͋̀̚͝R̵̨͙͎̙̱͍̹̭̒̓̋̌̍̍̚D̵̨̨̧͚̞͖̖̫͎̩͎̰̬͍͐̅̐̓͌̽E̵̛͚̦̥̻̘̗͎̎̾͌̊̈́̈́̑͊͜R̴̤̠̩̱̓̑̀͌̍͐̆͗̈́̐̀͐͘͘̚ ̶̪͈̪̜̉͗̓̒̈́̐̐͂͝D̸̢̞̹̟̺̣̑̋I̷̢̡͚̜̤͍̯̍́͛̐̐̿S̶̨̮̫̬̗̟͍̜͚̅̉̈́͘Ǫ̴͚͔̗̱̘̳̬̼́̈́̔́̾̓͌Ŗ̸̢̢̠̩̤̩̯̽͌̌̋́̈̇͝Ḏ̸̟̼̜̻̂̈͒̆͗͐̔̕Ë̵̡̖̯̥̹͇̲͖̼̜͚̫͑͗̔̚͜R̷̫͂̀͆̌̑̕͝ ̶̢̢̩̖̲̩̼̱̩̍̒̒͗͘͝͝D̷̰̙̯̣̟̫̺͓͍͌̑͆̒̈́͆̎̀͌̽̑̕̚͘͠Ī̷̡̮̬͚̱̼̽͐̽̉̌̈́̿̂̑̿͑̇͘̕S̷̜̈̽́͑̃̊̕O̵̪̟̭͇͓̖̖̿̍̄͂R̶̖̼͔̤̮̓̊͗̐Ḑ̸̢͇̼̻̠̭̺̙̝̠̜̀̓̾̑͝͝Ě̷̗̜̮̾͊͋̌́͝R̶̜̦̀̇̓͊͐̑̔͐͠ ̷̞͔̼̩͙͚͐͊̉͌̈́̊̎͠͝D̸͇͙̜͚͙͚͇̘̑͛̉̾́͊͐̂̍̔̇̒̇̽͘I̸̳̫̺̐̌̂̋̓͐̀͘͝S̶̭̞̤̦̿̀̊̈̆̚͝O̴̠̟̠̖͍̩̻̠̯̹̼̤͍͋R̴̗̍̅Ḑ̸̩̟͕̠͈̖̤̲̤̬͔͗̃̈́͗̔̒͊̈́̕Ę̴͙͙̥̫̦͔̱͓̜̹͌͋̓̅̊̈́̚͝Ŕ̴̼̰͙͜ ̴̠͉̮͖̰͔̕D̸̙͚̝̰̭͈͉͎͍͖͔̐I̶̡̞̯̜̳̮͐Ś̵͉̮̟͖̦̙͈̹͉̠̋̋͘O̶͕͕͍̩̞̓́̕R̵̭͖͚͈͘̚͝D̸̳̗͍̺̗̜̣̝̘͌̇̾̋̀͊͐̇̎̂͋͋͛ͅE̴̢̛̱̲͇̜͚̩̤̳͉̼͔͒̽̋̾̋̑̈́͜Ŗ̵̖̫̞̱͖̥̜̱̼̘̪̣͐͂̂͊͑̏̎̊͑̇̋ ̷̧̢̗͓̭̣̪̭̲̮̬̄͑͜D̸̛͍̼̱̈́͑̅̎͊̀̏̂̏̆͘I̶͚̪̦͈̱̟̐́̎͘S̸̪͚̘̳͔̲̿͆̽̋̾̀̀͆̔̿̌͘͝O̶̼͇̗̻̜̺̖͝Ŗ̷̨̲̲̣̫̬̻͍͖̰͕̣̤̱̆̀͌̈͒͛͘D̸̻͎̜͕̩͛̔̊̑̑̀́̽̔̚͝͠͝E̴̜̗͌́̒̏̆̏͊̍̋͒͌͝͝R̶̢̡̛̥̹͍̓̋̌͋̓̾̈̆̕ ̶̰̝̬̦̘̩̠̩̗̜͇͚̙̼̖̏̐͆̔̅̓́̃̐͂͝D̴̡̀̔̀̇͛̆̉͜Ḭ̴̧̹̼̹̹͖̺͙̝̩͑͐͌͋̒̿̿̚͜͝Ş̵̢̝͎̞̠̣̙͈̻̪̈̉̾͂̽̏͊̓̓̇̿͘͝O̸̧̰͓̻̱̱͕͗̋́͒͆̏ͅR̷̰̆̄͒͌D̶͖̝̭͇͇͉͐̌̃E̴͈̮̘͎͛̉͋͋̈͆̑R̷̡̨̬͇̣̣͚̖̳͐͌͗͛͊̇́̓̆̆͋͆̌͝ ̷̨̧͎̘̰̙̜̖̼̟̘̾͒̆D̴̼̩̝̲̩͇̟̩̯̖̥̙́̀̈́̽̓̔̏̐͜͝Į̶͔̝̻̦̬̟͎͔̜̱̤̭͕̉̄͐́̾̉͒̀̂̋͊͛̇̕ͅS̵̨͖̹͇̳̺̘̥̅͆͋͛̾͋̎̀͊̍́̈͠O̸͍̼̟͌̏̐̈̀̎̽̋̃̋͂͠R̸̢̧͔̟͔̝͉̩̥̱̳͈̟͙͖̐̑̏̐̎̌͒D̷͓̤̦̂͆̓̕E̷̡̩̟͚̗̎R̴͙̱̗͑́͂͛͒ ̶̬͖̓͒̏͗̒̽̈́̋͝͝͠D̷̥̪͙̼̬̹̑̈́̊̔̿́̔͒̈́̂̀͘͠͝ͅĮ̶̡̭̫̜͚̞̞̟̟̫̪̮͎͇̆̒̆̀͗͆̋̐̌̚S̶̛̟̊̆̄͐͆̽͛͛̚̚̕O̴̧̱͊̏̈́͠͠R̷̘̘͍̞̲͉̺̭̞̲͐̀̋̋̀̽̂̊̈́͋͗͗͊̾Ď̸̼̟̯̖̙̺̣̺̖͓̗̑̈́͋E̶̗̰͎̰̞̹̭͙̣̎̿̌̎R̶̖̫̩̠̟̲̈́ ̸̨̛̜̻̝̥̠̗̮̩̭͌͐͝D̵̰͓̹͛̈́̑͒ͅĮ̵̢̧̛̗̺͓̟͎̖̜͍͕̦͕̑͊͒̉́̈́̕͘S̴̨̡͔̫͚̳̗̲̞̜͊Ō̴̧̧͚̱͎̞͑͌̆͒͋͗̈́̄̎́́͜͝͝ͅŖ̶̨̻̟̝̞͎̺͓̻͕̞̃̌̎̀̃̃́̽͒͗̑̎̅̕Ḑ̵̩͚̻͕̘̖͇͈͇̼͕͌̽̓̆̅̾̀̈̓͠͝͝Ȩ̶͙̤̇̃̉̿͝R̷̡̧̯͚͇̤̳͔̭̱͉̤̘͒̉͐̔̃̚ ̸̣̬̩͋̈́D̵̨͔̻̖̩̪̠̹̀̀̀̚Ȉ̶̡̡̼̰͖͕͌̋̓͒̿̒̒̏͆͝S̴̢̢͙̯̬͚̳̠̻̑̅̀̕͠Ơ̷͕̦͍̲̩̗͉̱̮͇͐̓̈́͗̓͜R̴̙̜̼̬̯̼̞̘̃D̵̩͙̰͍̙͓̈̐͋̾͒̀͂̈́̑̅̋͝͠E̸̡̠͖͔͑̆R̵̦̹̰̻̤͉̹̠͈̞̺̝̗̈̄͜ ̴̱̈̆̾̈́̀̊̍̀̇͐̈̂̾̒̃D̵̩̻̟͎̩̩̱͖͉͎̂͐͠I̸̻͔͙̟̠͓̞̝͇̝̞͋̏̊̏̂̿͛̇̾̈́̂̚͘ͅS̵͚̯̳̗͍̓̕ͅƠ̸̝̩͖̲̩̇̿͐́R̴̼͓͈͔̟̮̤̹̞̿̽̒͜͝ͅD̷͇̮̲̭͔̺̭̳̩̑̈̈́̇̃̌͑̓ͅE̸̢̺̠̜̞̺̺͒̀̉̅̏̈́̚͝ͅR̷̢̨̻̪̣̻͉͓̮͔̰̙͕̒̀̃͜ ̵̪̩̒̏̾̈͌̃̓̀̚D̶̩̝̱̦͈̱͚̂͌̈́͊̒̚͝I̶̮̭̲͖̥̟̗͇̯̝͇͗̋́͐̾̋̂S̵̡̡̫̰̞̯̟͖̝͎̪͔̄O̴̤̒̄͊R̶̻̹͐͂D̴̛̬͇̳̗̲̘̻̼͈͒͑̿̃̈́̒͜E̵̢̪̰͓̻̬͔̊̊̽̏̽̈́̈́́̓̎̇̈Ŕ̵̳͕̣̻̲̥̔͛͊͊̏́̔ ̵̡͚̺̗͕̤̣̖̮̣̐̆̆̉̇̒Ḑ̸̨̬̠̹̜͍̩̜̖͑̊I̴̛͕̜̫͎̍́͒͊͊͑̌͘Ş̶̛̥̯̦͊̈́̈́̇͆̂̚̕Ō̸̪͍̐̐̾͑̏̔̔̾͊͠R̸̨̙̞̪̝̮̿́D̵̼͚̹͆͋̉̽̎̃͒̓̓̋̀̚Ȩ̸̛̻͈̙̠̺͎̈́̌̀͂͆Ȓ̸̡̨̧̡̯̙͇̲͙͔̙͓̄̀ ̵̛̩͓̄͑̿̍̍̇̉́͑͛͛̓͘̚D̸̢̠̻̖̘̬͂̉̌̂͋̓́͘I̷̥̮̥͖̲̠͖͌͐̉̓̾S̵̡̨̜͇̞̹̻͈͖̥̙̻̀̋̈́O̵̡͇͚͉̮̦͚͌̚͜R̶̛̪͎̮͆͆̄͑̌͛͒̔̀͗͗͑̕͠D̴̫͕͇̦̓̊̈̈́͛̽̀̌̿͆Ệ̸̢̩̻͓̟͉͋̒̉̽͜͝͝͠͝Ŗ̵̛̳̻̮̩̪̠͕̝̩͊̍͂̌̒̀̔̓͆͋̈́̄͜͝ͅ

"S-top..."

Roman's right.

"Stop it-"

You're just a disorder.

Virgil pulled on his hair. He started banging his fist against his head.

"N-no..."

You only hurt Thomas.

He threw his head back on the wall as if he was hit, trying to stop the voice. "Wh- why," Anxiety studdered. He wasn't talking to anyone. Only the voice in his head. He let his legs go from his torso, however, they were still shaking. He couldn't breathe. The only thing his mind let him focus on was how much of a fuck up he was.

Makeup stained down his face. His nose and cheeks red from all his crying.

Why was he such an emotional bitch today?

You're just looking for attention.

S̸̡̨͖̜͔̘͙̄͛̅͒H̴̡̙͓̖͖͕̤̬͎̲̙͊̏̒̄͋̑̑̾̀͒͜͝Ǘ̴̖̺̫̫͔̙̮̯̬͓̖̝̞̎̍́̈́͗̋͋͌̒̇̀͐̿̎͜ͅT̷̲̓͊̿̇̓̒͜ ̶̲̲̼̎͘Û̸̡̨̧͙̼̲̪̙̞̐̌P̸̨̰̯̎̓̅̿͠S̸̡̨͖̜͔̘͙̄͛̅͒H̴̡̙͓̖͖͕̤̬͎̲̙͊̏̒̄͋̑̑̾̀͒͜͝Ǘ̴̖̺̫̫͔̙̮̯̬͓̖̝̞̎̍́̈́͗̋͋͌̒̇̀͐̿̎͜ͅT̷̲̓͊̿̇̓̒͜ ̶̲̲̼̎͘Û̸̡̨̧͙̼̲̪̙̞̐̌P̸̨̰̯̎̓̅̿͠S̸̡̨͖̜͔̘͙̄͛̅͒H̴̡̙͓̖͖͕̤̬͎̲̙͊̏̒̄͋̑̑̾̀͒͜͝Ǘ̴̖̺̫̫͔̙̮̯̬͓̖̝̞̎̍́̈́͗̋͋͌̒̇̀͐̿̎͜ͅT̷̲̓͊̿̇̓̒͜ ̶̲̲̼̎͘Û̸̡̨̧͙̼̲̪̙̞̐̌P̸̨̰̯̎̓̅̿͠

So dramatic~

Anxiety continued to have a mental battle with his thoughts, clearly not winning. He kept trying to stimulate himself, distract himself with pain. He banged the back of his against the wall as if to shake the depression in his head. He bawled his fist against his temples or his thighs, his hand twitching every now and then. He pulled on his hair, some brown strands falling loose into his fingers.

Out of nowhere, his chest became even heavier than before, his heart pumped faster, skin sweaty, lungs closing.

T̴͙̥̈́̑̔̂̂̃́̔͆̂̑̓̈̕ͅh̶̢̲̳̻͔̖̹̖̼̋͐͆̉́̍o̴͙͉͍͓͖͙̊̍͜ͅm̷̟̬̗̼̣̙͍̣̖̎̄̔̆̈́̌̅̿͂͌̔͋̚͜͝a̴̻͌͊͛͋͆̀̌̒̕̕͜͝s̵̛͙̞̘̙̩̖̭̀̿̔͌̔͋̈̿͊̈́̕͝͝ͅ

Such a screwup.

S̶͎̜̫̥̻̙͈̮̝̲͈̪̓͂͑h̷̥̅̍̾̽̍̂̈͊̎̒̕͘̕͘i̶̢̛̺̤͖̼̩̯̎͒̋͊̔̀͛̉t̴̢̮͙͇̫̫̣̞͎̅͛̈́̔͐̓̆̏̈͊̋̿̕͜ͅ,̸̣͎̰͉̺͎͓̻̪̼͔̘̬̇̊͆̑̆̈́͘ ̶̡̡̳̖͙̪͉͎̱̄͛͂̈́̋͛̍̄̄̂̚s̵̢̨͎̗̲̬͎̗̜͓͚̻̳̗̺͊̄́̒̍̋͝͝h̵̢̼̤̝̘͚̯͖͓͔̩͙̻͗͂͜i̶̧̢̛̺̖͚̞̤̺̝̤̠͒͋̉̂́̄̈́ţ̸̬̬̞̬̰̬̦͔͚̝̣̦̞̃̀̏̾́͛͌́̓̑,̷͖̬̖͔̬̹͈̫͕̑̿̊͑̔͌̂̀̃̇͋ ̶͙͕̮̱̈́̋̌̎̊͛̚ͅs̵̡͖̼̰̗̫̭̥̰̻̱̦̠̖̖̅̌̽́̀̕͝h̵̢̛͍̮̫̲͎̫̭̤̯͐͆̅̐̽͝i̶̮̝̝͙̖̜̐́̂̅̂̏̕t̸̺̠̭̖̦̮̥̟͍̕,̸̛̠̞̩̜̻̥͋̊͆̐̒̆̐̎́̾̈́̕ͅ ̴͈̓̔̿̍s̵̛͕̙̬̞͔̜͔̗̅͂̀̑̔ͅḩ̷͕͈̠̻̗̤̟̣͔͇̻͚̒i̴̫̬̾̏̆̀̈́̈͝ͅt̵̨̪̹̪̘̝̜̯̜̣̠̫̼̋̉́̈͜-̵̧̛̻̖̜̖̠̤̣̻͎͔͔̪̌̒͑̄̄̆͐

Can't even protect his own host!

M̶̧̢̫̲̦͇̯͔̃́̎̉̏́̄̕͜͝Å̶̛̹̻͈̱̮̯͓͔͚͆̍͠ͅḰ̷̛̝͚̱̹̭̝̦̖̟͌̀̏́̃̆͑͘͝ͅE̵̢̛͚͈̭̟͇̦̯͈͇̯͊̽ ̵̡̛͙͇̫̣̻̩͎̖̔̒̇͊͘͜͠͠͠͝İ̸̗̙͋͑̈̆̉̽̃̍T̴̡̨̡̯͖͕̞͉͙̪̗̉̄̋̓̇̂͒̾̚ͅ ̶̢̙̟͎̤̈́͐̌̓̾S̷͈̹͕̃̊T̸̞̦̣̯͙̰̑͋ͅƠ̵̛̪̳̯̮̲̣͙͂̃͋͛͜ͅP̶̣̙̠̜̥̙̜̯̭̙̍͛̔̎͋̂̋̈́̍͘͝͠ͅ-̴̢̛̳͉̬̜̖̦͇̬̈́̀͛̔̍̐̋̓͗̓͒͠

You only cause trouble for him, you know that?

Virgil squeezed his eyes, not caring about the big drops of water falling down. He needed to protect Thomas.

You only make it worse for him.

He shut out the voice. Focusing on the heavy feeling in his chest. The side thought about his host, to make him happy. His purpose was to protect him, but even he couldn't do that.

Ỉ̴̧͉̦̑͐͗̌̀̈́͋̑̌͌̊ ̷̢̜̣̼̓̋́̃̿̀́̾̇̽͛̆͝c̴̞̫̘̠͇͇̣̉̒̅̃̄̀͛̏̓̆ą̵̛̟̪͎̻͆͛̐͑̃͒̂͌̓̓̾͠ń̷̡̧͓̬̮͕̱͉͍̱̲͛̌̌̎̔̈̀͜ͅ'̷̤͈͍̫̪̬̘͉̘̠̪̗͉̫̭̆̓t̶̯̦̗̰̦̮̐ ̴͔̻̻̠̐̄̽̎͋̽̈́͌̽̈̿́b̸͙̰̝̞̞̩͓̳͕̹̪̙̽̿̿͊̿̊̿́̊̋̂͘͝r̷̗̖͍̺̖̱̞̞̓̾́̅͛̈́̽̀̾è̵̢̨̡̯͓̫̼̜͔̜͚͇̪̙̮̃͐͒̌̾͌̓̊̈́̐͌͗ä̷̻͈̣̘̣͓̹̭̘͇̖̯̜̝̩́͋͆̄̽̌́̎̑̔͂̂̚t̴̛̹̭͛̽͌́̉̀̉̊̋̈́̌͜h̷̡̦̻̖̰̟̻͈͍͍̥̤͒̄̚e̴̡͇͇̠̤͋͛ͅ-̶̢̠̺͔̳͕̻̭̾͌̄̅̽̾̓̒̒̾̑̕͠

Ḩ̶͇͕̻͙͇̪̃̓̃̍́̓̏͐̚͠ͅḛ̴̖̜̺̰̦̟̼̩̩̙̂̍̈̔̈́͆̍̇̈̉̕̕̚ļ̸̦̮̣̪̪̈́̀̉̄̀͗̓̇̂͑́̐̇͘̚ͅp̸̨̛̝̳̬͔̖̼͚̦̣̪͈͋̂̓̂̎̀̈́̚̕-̶̢̛̳͜

P̷̗̏͑̋͆̏̓͘ļ̴̛͈̼͈̮͙̱̗̥͎̩̆̊͋̾̍͗̔̀̓͊͝ͅe̸̪̙̤͙̭͚͔͉͓̮̟̓̅̓͋͘͘͜͜ą̶̢̣͖͇̲͇̩̪͈̬͖̤̒̉̓̅͐̈́̉̎͌̈́͌͝ŝ̴̨̻̪̬̖̦̓̏̓͐́͂̇͋͊̐͝ͅͅë̷̤͚͙͙͇̣̭̋͐̋̕̕͠-̷̥̪̻̺̮̉̃̐̂͒̎̍̈́̋̚͘̚͝

S̴̡̨͍̪̹̤̠͙͍̖̤̩̟̮̤͛̄̌̈́̇̽͊̐͌ơ̴̧̦̯̪̻̰̜̯̞̣̮̗̰̽̉͑̽̀̾͗̆͊̌͠m̴̢̢̛̩̪̥͖̤̯̰̻͖̟̈́̄̋̂̏̔͛̓͗͜͝ë̶̖̥͖̰́͂̽̏̉̿̕̚ö̶̡͔̣̘͎́͑̏̽͒̿̕͜͠n̵͙̥̓̀̅̐̓̈́͛͘ę̵̘̝̟̪̟̯̙̝̪́-̶̛̱̞̋̋̊͆̎̓̔̉̇́̒̍͝

A̴̡̨̖̰̺̭̮̘͖̦̘͊̉̌̀̓̈́͂̈́̋̒̎̇̚n̷̨̡̹͗̋̇̊̆͗̕y̴̧͔͍̺̜͔̜̏̐̓ơ̶̗̞͖̲̮̟̞͕͓̘̗̈́̿̎́͐ņ̷̛͋͂̿̇̐͘e̵̢̖͙͙̥͚̽-̶̢̗̯̞͈͕͂͛̂͌̔͑̊͋̕̚͝

"Ghh-"  he kept his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face. His hands gripped on his head, fingernails dug in. He pulled his knees back up, his face hidden in between his legs.

His breath hitched as a sudden pain hit him in the chest.

'For Thomas...'

Virgil's lungs closed as his tear ducts leaked. He curled further in on himself. His hands moved to his heart, which was pumping with adrenaline. He couldn't hear anything except for the loud voices in his head. The muffled voices of shouts from downstairs were out of his earshot. His body felt sore, weak. Shaking vigorously, eyes puffy.

You know what to do.

"N-no!"

No one would care.

Anxiety gulped, and opened his eyes. His sight was blurry from all the tears.

It was like he couldn't control his body, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He was just trying to convince himself he had to.

C̴̡͉͉͓͚̹̥̭͇̼̮͐Ó̴̡̝̭̣̰͖̼̫͔̝͑̆́Ǹ̵͇̬̗͂̀̿͝T̵̤̳͓͍̙̀͠R̸̡̢͙̩͎̪̮̠̙͍̬̱̗͐̋̐͊͋̕̚͜ͅƠ̵̢̢͔̘̪̘̦̏́̆̒Ḻ̴͉͓͍̃̍̎̊͛́͂̀̾̐͊̕͝ ̸̞͙͕͔̰̘͎̣̌̑̈́̕͘̚͝C̴̛̛̗͓͊́̅͆̅̉͋̒̔́̋͝Ơ̵̤̼͚̻̗͑͒̅͒́͒͌̔̈̾̑̆͜͝͝N̶̢̞̻̭̰̥̘̩̱̱͒̓͋̈̏͜T̸͓̺̈́͆̾̉R̸̨̛̙̞̤̫͇̱̤̥̬͇̬̈̀̑̒̿́̈́̈́́͒͊͗͊͜Ő̷̧̯̤̘̥͖͔͂́̌̿̏͊L̸̯̘̲̥͔͉̮͂̽̒͗̅͋͜ͅ ̶͎̲̰̗̘̎̑̑̏̈́̎̒̄̿͝ͅC̶̨̡̡̧̠̼̩̮͖͎̯̭̽͜͠O̶̜͚͎͙̙̥̥͍̰̠͉͌͑N̸̨̧̛͉̺̗̦̩̠̥͓̤̗̊̓̅̋̐͐̽̍̕͘͝T̴̟͓̞̺̫̘̀̏̌̿͐̾͑R̵͈͙̫̞͝Ǫ̷̛̖͈̼̞̣̘̗̺́̿̅͒̓̒͑̒̑̀̿̽̚Ĺ̸̝̼̱̙̣͔͔̀

D̶̨̧̯̳̘̟̞̱̼͇̘̭͛O̶̡̧͓̬̬̱̤̝͚̐͊̒̓͐̏̂͜͝ ̸̡̟͇̪̦̜̝̲̠̗̠̎̀́̓̊͜Ḯ̷̢̡̬͚̘̫̭͈͓͔͕̠̾̌̅̃̚͝Ţ̸̯͕͇̳̉ ̸̛̼̅́̽̕̕Ḑ̶̝̺̞͇͈͐̓͊̽͊͒̒̌́̂̑͝͠Ỡ̸̧̢͍̪͉̣͓̦͖͉͖̯͂̇̽̃̋̊̋͌̋̔̓̚͝ ̸͎͔͉̹͉͗̓̀̓İ̸̘̞̥͓̋T̵̼͙̓ ̵̨̼͚͉̺̮̖̥͚͇̀̉̓̅͒̾̑̈́̊̽͗͛͂̚D̷̢̢͓̦̲̭͎̽̋͜O̶̼͙̩̦̮̹̙͉̐͜ ̴͎̱̫͓̭͖̖̪̺̹́Ḯ̸̡̥͎͙̟͓̝̲̇̓͆̐͆̽T̷̛̖̝̤̜͖̤̯͌̈́̃̆̈̐͌ͅ

He crawled his way to the drawer. As his hand was on the handle to pull the drawer out, he studdered "I-I'm sorry..."

Who was he sorry to? Himself? Patton?

Roman?

Ḑ̵̨̞̹̘̩͇̉̎͜I̴̘̦͇̥̍͊̀̋̒͛͠͠ͅS̶̨̨̡̝̭̩̭̰̳͕͕͙̦̘̄͌̃̓̅̊̕͝Ó̶̡̦̾̌̊̍̌̓̑̉̿̈́͝R̴̡͚̲̝̮̻͈̿̃D̵̤̩̬̮̤͇͍͚͔̱̯̰̟̘̐̎̓̀̓̀͗̕̕͝Ḙ̴͇̪͎̞̩̱͎̦̪͉̈̈́͛̓͊̃́̔̕̚͠R̸̡̛͓͍͔̠̥̹͚͚͕̞͇͈̭̈́̇͌̉͗̒͘

He let out a loud cry. Flinging his head down, he opened the drawer. With unclear vision, he stuffed his hand in the box looking for one specific item.

'Ow.'

He found it.

🖤

A/N:
Btw, Virge is still in his black hoodie and has brown hair like in the early SS vids. Just wanted to make that clear if it wasn't before in the early chapters. So obviously, purple hair and hoodie will come in later, as implied when I wrote about his closet! Plus, the cover is a give away (Idrc, I love drawing him in purple and it makes more sense at the end of the story I guess?)

Also, I haven't been doing the best lately, like, at all, so please bear with me! My distance learning ends on Friday so after I can hopefully update and write more! I have finals this week so wish me luck!