Alex's POV

It's been two months since the "incident" had occurred. When it happened, John didn't know what to do with me at first, and neither did I. He started out by telling me to inform our group of friends, and although I hated the idea of this, I understood that it was to help me get all the support I needed to start the process of healing. Of course when they found out, everyone freaked. It took me awhile to assure them that after what happened, I wouldn't do it again, I was too scared. Even then they didn't 100% believe me. I didn't fully believe myself either to be honest. It took some convincing, but they finally got me to seek professional help.

When I did, the news made me disappointed in myself. I was so deep into depression that I needed to start taking medication. Although it may seem obvious to you, it wasn't to me. I never realized it was that bad. Luckily, my friends were there for me the whole way, reassuring me it wasn't my fault. They had to explain to me that when someone acts suicidal, it's normally easier for someone else to notice symptoms way before the victim. At first I was hesitant on using my anti-depressants, but everyone helped me make the right decision to take them.

Talking to a psychiatrist I learned a lot about myself that I never noticed before. I've always been a happy kid. Even during the worst of times, my father abandoning us, my mother's death, I always tried to stay positive. I was able to succeed, barely, but I didn't get depressed. That was until the hurricane came and destroyed my town. My fragile mind couldn't take things any longer. My thoughts started to down spiral into an abyss of self hate. I felt like trouble followed me, or I followed trouble. I thought maybe, just maybe if I never existed, none of the bad things that happened to the people around me wouldn't have. Ever since that day I always felt like something was missing in my life. I always presumed it was a family. Everyone I ever knew and loved left me. I have nothing left. Still, I kept going. I worked hard and found my way here to New York.

That's where I met John. At first I was too shy to talk to him. I hadn't really made friends before, but he was so outgoing and kind I couldn't help but want to hang out with him more, even though we were already roommates. He introduced me to his friends and they were so nice to me. I'm not use to such great people like them. Going out with the group helped me push my depression away. Slowly but surely I even managed to develop feelings for that boy. It was fun while it lasted, until a year later.

One day something snapped in me. I don't know how, I don't remember why, but it came out of no where. I slowly stopped going out, including with my friends because it just wasn't fun anymore. At first they didn't seem to mind much, assuming it really was because I had a ton of homework, after all college sucks and my grades are pretty good. I tried, I tired so hard to push away the bad thoughts. One day I couldn't do it anymore. Guilt was eating me alive and nothing I ever did to calm down was working. I got so upset with myself and I just couldn't take it.

That's when I met them.

There they were, two shiny blades with beautiful blue handles. No one was home. Tears started forming in my eyes, similar to how they are now relaying this information to you... But continuing, I picked up the scissors and held them in my hand, imaging what they would feel like opened, rubbing against my wrists. The thought made me cringe, but it seemed so... so right. And I did it. And I did it again. I kept doing it until I physically couldn't do it anymore, I'd loose too much blood. Everything felt right for a moment. Then the panic came over me. God John could've come home at anytime and I didn't know what to do. Quickly, I wiped off my wrists and put a thin layer of bandage on them so the blood wouldn't soak through the hoodie I put on next. It was 67°F outside so I felt like I could get away with wearing it, barely, but it would work. I looked at time and realized that John would be coming home any second now. Quickly I wiped off the scissors and threw them in a drawer to my desk. I didn't clean them up too much, but that was good because John opened the door right as I was shutting the forbidden drawer. Ever since that day my friends started to become suspicious. When ever I told them I had homework, they always insisted I come with them anyways in an attempt to cheer me up, and every time I declined. This is when my private sessions with the scissors normally happened, so maybe once every week or two, although sometimes more often. Once in awhile I did it just because I was bored. Everyone kept asking me if I was fine, if I needed anything to come to them. I never did. I never thought I'd allow myself too.

But now things have changed. Ever since I let them back into my life I've felt, more complete? Maybe, I'm not sure. After taking medication though, things really changed. My life started to go back to normal, before my self-harming days. I started getting my lunch coffee with John and the gang again everyday, making time for myself rather than just school work, and even began to feel happy in a way.

Now? Well now that void in my heart doesn't seem to be there anymore. I use to feel all the time like I was missing something in my life. I now know I've found it, my friends. They are the greatest family I've ever had. I'm sorry mamá, you will always remain in my heart, but I must move on from these feelings of grief. They're all like brothers and sisters of mine. I've never felt more close to anyone else in my life. Well, except for one person.

John.

I love that boy more than I love myself sometimes. We've been in a happy relationship since the evening he kissed me. He tells me how wonderful I am everyday, a beauty and blessing. Each time never fails to make me blush. Those little reminders help keep me going. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve a man like him. No matter, either way I am John's and John is mine. I'm happy just the way everything is now and wouldn't give it up for anything, even when it hurts like hell.

John's POV

I've liked Alexander for probably as long as he's liked me, maybe even a little longer. He's such a beautiful human being. That's not the only reason I like him though. He's seems approachable, like you could grab a drink with him and talk forever, that is if he were the legal age. He's close though, and man I cannot wait to see a drunken version of Alex. Of course it's easy to have long conversations with him though. The small man never shuts up, and I love that about him. I think I started getting feeling for the guy before I even realized it.

His snore is so cute, did I mention that? He rarely sleeps, but when he does I could watch him for hours. His small chest rising and sinking with each slow breathe coming in and out of his mouth with those perfect lips. Ah yes, kissing that man is like kissing a cloud, so soft and gentle, tender and loving. Before being in a relationship though, we were only friends. Once it hit me that I loved him I didn't know what to do, like how do you tell your best friend "Oh hey! I'm in love with you!" especially if you don't even know if they're straight or not? It took ages, but I finally got the courage to ask him out. That is until something was up.

I came back to our dorm one day to find Alex in an over sized sweatshirt, which although it looked cute, it was his face that troubled me. It looked like he'd been crying or had done something wrong. Suddenly my stomach dropped and I knew this wasn't the time to ask. I thought maybe I'd do it some other day when he seemed better. That day never came. Every day I came home hoping Alex had gotten better and everyday he almost seemed worse. My friends and I got really worried, but we didn't know what to do so we let him be. That was all until the night I was home and in need of some scissors.

I wanting to cut up my old credit card since I just got a new one in the mail but I had no clue where I put those things. Then I thought maybe Alex used them or put them away, since he loved to be organized. I went through his desk looking for them, and when they were found I almost dropped them on my feet. The past several months flashed before my eyes, and everything became clear. I had to confront Alex, but I didn't know how. I knew his classes had finished for the day and he was coming home, I just didn't know when exactly, so I waited. When he finally opened up the door the start of a sentence was stopped when he saw what I had found. I felt terrible for doing this, but I knew I had to, there was no choice.

When he told me how he really felt that evening I didn't know what to do, and my actions reacted faster than my mind. I can't believe that was our first kiss, and most of it was me, but I love it nonetheless. Our true first kiss though will always be my favorite. The way his eyes glistened that night was beautiful. We weren't doing anything special either, just sitting on my bed when he revealed to me why he didn't tell me his feelings sooner, about how he felt like he wasn't worth my love. It crushed me inside that I didn't ask him out sooner, but there was nothing I could do now. A little after he suddenly looked at me with longing and desire, then mentioned that he owed me a real kiss since our first one wasn't exactly the best. Slowly he leaned in, and I did too. Our lips touched and it was everything I'd ever imagined, if not more. It was filled with so much love and care, as though all of our pent up emotions were finally flowing out into a messy mashup.

Now the bad parts of the past are in the past in a sort of sense. Alex's wrists are healing pretty well, but he and I both know they'll never be the same. Sometimes I wonder if his anti-depressants really help all the way, or if it takes me and the gang to make him as happy as he is. I remind him every day how lovely he is in an attempt to make him feel better about himself. I think it works because every time a blush creeps on his face, and of course I softly blush in return from his adorableness. He still doesn't get much sleep due to his workaholic personality, but when he does cuddling is my favorite pastime, and I think it's his too. I just adore Little Spoon Alex™ being protected in my arms, nuzzling up into my chest. I must keep him safe, I just don't know how I would live my life normally without him. I love him so much and waking up to see him there each and everyday fills me with a sense of completeness and I would never give that up for anything.

Even the world.