Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Well, my school is shut down for the next three weeks because of Coronavirus.  So....I've been on a writing rampage

Emery is a new OC I've been working on but I have no clue really how to fit him into any of my stories I'm working on rn

TRIGGER WARNINGS : attempted self harm, angst, panic attacks

Virgil POV
I can't do this.  There's no way I can do this.  Maybe I should just kill myself so I wouldn't have to deal with this.  I hate this.

I death glared all the college application forms spread out across Roman's desk.  I don't even know where I want to go for college! 

This is all so much so quickly.  It feels like just yesterday I was having a panic attack on the first day of freshman year.  But now I'm working on college applications.

Roman's going to the state college and going into their drama program.  He wants to get to broadway eventually.  And maybe I'm just biased because he's my boyfriend but I think he's good enough to perform there already.

Maybe I'll try to get into that college. It's probably my best bet to not loose my damn mind. I'll at least have Roman nearby since it's on campus living for freshman year. I'm not looking forward to living in a dorm with a stranger.

I grabbed my phone and my headphones. I slid them over my ears and put on my Panic! At The Disco playlist. I need music to calm me and my anxiety down.

What am I even supposed to study and major in? I have nothing that I'm particularly good at in school. I'm mediocre at everything.

English might be something good for me to major in since it is a subject I actually do well at and enjoy. Or maybe I could info psychology. My therapist said that's an easy course.

And I don't even want to start thinking about the cost of college. I'm going to end up living me entire life with horrible college debt. Roman will manage to get some football or musical scholarship. And knowing his luck, it'll probably be a full ride too.

There's no way in hell that I have a chance at making it into college. I'm dumb and there's nothing special about me. I don't want to write a college essay about myself. What would I even write it about?! How my sister died and it traumatized me?! How my dad abused the shit out of me for years to the point he had to go to jail?!

I can't even drive! How the fuck am I going to even get to my classes?! And I'll have to live with a stranger before Roman and I can buy an apartment together.  He'll be too busy to help me all the time.  What if he meets someone better and leaves me?!

My hands were shaking badly in my lap. I rested my forehead against the desk.  But I had reached the point in a panic attack where even music was helping me.

Everything in my chest hurt.  My heart.  My lungs.  I gasped for air but it was difficult to breath.  Tears formed in my eyes but I didn't want to cry.

Suddenly the music was too loud.  It was all too much.  I ripped my headphones off and threw them across the room. 

I really want to cut.  I haven't had urges this bad in a while.  And it hurt just to try ignore the voice in my head yelling at me to cut myself. 

Before I knew what I was doing, I threw open the drawers in Roman's desk.  I dug through all of them, desperate to find something sharp. 

There wasn't much.  Lots of paper and journals.  A few tattered diaries.  Pens and penciled.  Lots of random art supplies.  All the drawers at the top were empty. 

I threw myself to the ground and opened the drawer on the bottom.  Finally, I found a pair of scissors.  They were buried in the back of the bottom drawer.  Roman probably hid these here purposely. 

Panic gripped my body again, the attack setting back in now that I wasn't focusing on something else.  I shoved myself under the desk which was easy because I'm small.

I tried to fight the voice screaming at me to cut myself. I didn't want to relapse but I also so desperately needed to feel pain like that. I deserved it.

Do I really want to cut myself?

Yes, I do. I need to. I need to feel pain to stop the attack. I need this horrible feeling to go away.

My body moved without me even thinking. I pulled down the sleeve of my hoodie and stared at my already scared forearm.

I'm so ugly and hideous. Why does Roman like me? I have so many problems. All I do is complain about my stupid issues. I shouldn't do that when my friends have more important things.

Remy is having dinner with his grandparents and cousin tonight. That's going to be stressful for him. Remus, Evan, Damien and Quinn are fighting so I can't bother Quinn with my stupid issues. Something about Remus getting caught high. And Roman has his brother to worry about. I shouldn't be bothering him with my problems.

I made up my mind and pressed the blade of the scissors into my forearm. I quickly drew the blade across my forearm. Only two small beads of blood appeared. Otherwise, it was just a red line. I repositioned the blade when the door suddenly slammed open.

"Virgil stop!" Roman screamed, his hand outstretched towards me.

I screamed in shock and dropped the scissors. I quickly put my hands over my ears, my mind suddenly assaulted by a ton of memories because of the loud noise.

Roman quickly darted over to me, practically throwing his desk chair out of the way. He gently pulled me out from beneath the desk.

"No," I mumbled. "Don't...don't need help...I don't."

I tried to struggle out from Roman's arms but he's much stronger than me. It's not like I didn't want Roman touching me, I just didn't want him to have to keep taking care of me.

"Virgil," Roman said softly. "Just breathe."

Without thinking, I forcefully shook my head 'no'. I know I can't control myself, my emotions, or my breathing during a panic attack.

Roman gently rubbed my back and leaned my head against his chest. He smelled like his cologne but with the underlying smell of popcorn.

I caused him to interrupt his movie day with Evan, Emile and Patton. I'm such a burden. I've completely ruined his day. But how did Roman know I was having a panic attack?!

"Listen to my heartbeat Virgil," Roman whispered, pressing kisses to the top of my forehead. He breathed in deeply and then exhaled. "Try to copy my breathing."

I tried and failed. I ended up coughing and trying to push away from Roman again. But he's still too strong. I gave in and just held onto Roman.

Roman hummed softly to some song from Frozen 2 that I think is the weird lullaby the mom sings. He rocked back and forth gently and kept running his fingers through my hair.

He moved us slowly to the foot of his head and then leaned against it. I stayed curled up against his chest, keeping my ear right over his heart.

"You're okay," Roman whispered. "I'm right here. I love you. Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"I don't want to go to college," I choked out, a fresh wave of tears rising in my eyes.

"You don't have to," Roman told me. "That's your choice."

"It's all too much," I mumbled. "It's so much pressure."

"Then let's not think about it anymore," He suggested. Roman slowly stood up and carried my in his arms to the bed.

We laid down and I curled up tightly against Roman, twisting my hands into his shirt. I hate being weak like this. But I need to understand that I can be weak around Roman when I'm having an attack.

"Wanna watch a movie?"  Roman asked, pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

"The Black Cauldron,"  I mumbled into his chest.  Roman grabbed the remote off his nightstand and turned the tv on. 

A minute or so later, the movie was playing on the tv.  I wasn't watching because I had yet to unbury my face from Roman's chest. 

"I love you Virgil,"  Roman said randomly when we were a good hour into the movie. 

"Love you too,"  I whispered, finally calm.