He stared at the four long marks against his wrist. He cleaned them up, but they were obvious. He didn't have anything to wrap them with, which he didn't think about beforehand, but he figured he'd just keep his sleeves down for now.

Another text lit up his phone and he sighed, opening it up. This one was from Percy, 'Hey, you still coming tonight? I tried that recipe you recommended!'

Nico exhaled loudly, turning his phone back over and putting his hands in his hair. He never follows through with plans to meet up, and he felt awfully guilty about it, but he couldn't fix it. Every time he though about everyone he loved, in one place, it just made him want to crawl in a small hole and die -- not because of them, but because he knows they're all better off without him.

I don't deserve a family as good as this one, he thought.

Another text rang up his phone, and he knew it was one of them asking if he'd make it. He swallowed, unsure if he was going to go (and planning not to) but he stood up and walked to his bathroom nonetheless.

Maybe he'd feel better if he got dressed up; he's been wearing this old black t-shirt and sweatpants for a few days now anyways.

He turned on the bathroom light and looked up into the mirror, freezing. He looked over his eyes, his jaw, his hands, his cuts, his torso... Everything. And it was too much. All he saw on that torso was the unwanted hands of a man he never knew the name of. His cuts were just little reminders that the man can still hurt him, and does. His hands are the same size as that man's was, bonier but just as rough and callous. His jaw was littered in bruises and lovebites, not really but it's all he could recall looking at the fine line that drove to his chin.

And those eyes... those eyes were just scared, empty pits of sorrow that bore into themselves via Nico's reflection.

He closed them, turning away and biting the inside of his cheek. This feeling will never go away, will it? He'll never move on from that one night. He'll never forget it.