Trigger warnings: drug usage, suicidal thoughts, self-harm references. If you will be triggered by any of those, even if you're not totally sure, please do not risk it for my shitty writing. I love you all, stay safe!

Ethan's POV:

I know when Francesca's lying, and I knew as soon as her phone rang that it wasn't a good sign. And when she looked me in the eyes and said she was okay, I read straight through it. She was the furthest from okay, but as much as I wanted to run after her, be by her side, I know she wouldn't want that.

She wanted to be alone.

Then twenty minutes after she left the apartment, I got a short text saying, 'I'm okay, just went on a drive, I'll be back soon.'

It's been an hour – it's now eight-twenty-six PM, and you could say I'm losing my mind waiting for a text, a call, anything from her, a sign that she's okay.

I don't want to scare her away; we've only been in a relationship two days, and if I'm checking up on her all the time, I may do exactly that. Have I listened to that though, absolutely not. Francesca is in no state of mind right now, I don't even know what's wrong and it's killing me knowing I can't reach out. I've called, I've text but to no avail no answer.

She had told me how her ex was possessive, always checking up and I don't want to be that for her, but this is under different circumstances. Something's wrong, I know it and I can't even go find her because she stole my fucking car.

I'm not pissed about it because I've let her drive it since the beginning and it's more her car than mine at this point, I'm just scared of where she's gone. I have no way of finding out either.

I tried to keep my patience at bay, letting her have the time she needed... but five minutes later, Felix and Scar had to force me out of the apartment – I may have pulled the punching bag down that was once hanging from the ceiling in our living room. It wasn't my fault I needed to hit something.

I'm not angry, I'm frustrated, I'm worried, and I just wish she'd answer me – I wouldn't even care if it was one sentence, only to know that she's okay, that she's safe.

It's been a whole hour, in that hour I've broke the ceiling, and nearly punched Felix's lights out. You could say I have a short fuse when it comes to these things. Not that I've got much experience. She's the only girl I've spent more than five minutes talking to, let alone date and fall for. She's got total ownership over me and she doesn't even know it.

What am I supposed to do in this situation?

She's taken my car, so I can't exactly go looking for her. She won't answer my calls or texts. I don't know where she would even go, but her dorm – but she's smart, if she wanted to be alone, she wouldn't have gone back there.

I'm scared for her; I'm scared because this is the first time she's successfully made it outside since that night at the club. When she tried to go out alone for the very first time, I was at work and Matt had to go help her, she was in total panic. I felt totally useless because I wasn't there, I couldn't do anything – that's how I feel right now.

I'm stuck hostage to the gym, the snow still coming down heavily outside, and with no way of getting to her, I feel totally trapped. I want to find her, hold her, find out what has happened, who had made her face to drain of all happiness I've witness this weekend.

One second she was chatting away with Maria about the weekend, sometimes in Italian which pissed me off since I can't understand it, she knows that too and I have a little feeling that's why they were doing it. And then the next, her phone ran and her face dropped, the grip of her hand in mine falling slack, and she was rushing out of the apartment door – not without dismissing herself first.

She assured me she was okay with a nod of her head, but her eyes deceived her. She gulped back, her eyes glossing over slightly and gave me a tight-lipped smile. I saw right through it, but I didn't follow her.

Stupid fucking mistake.

I wish I had gone after her, checked on her, and made sure she was okay which she definitely wasn't. If anything happens to her, it's my fault.

I didn't go after her, I didn't make sure she was okay, I let her go.

"Kane, you're going to break your wrist, I swear to fucking God!" Scar grits out, pulling me out of my thoughts, the thoughts that have me punching this red bag like it's my worst enemy. He harshly grabs my bicep, and in defense I swing around, only for him to duck under the thrown punch. Quick reflexes, he's always has them. "Chill the fuck out! She's going to be okay."

"How the fuck do you know that? Have you got witchy psychic powers?!" I yell, ripping one of my gloves off, the ache of my wrist only now hitting me. I've not broke it, I know how that feels, I may have sprained it at its worst.

"Kane, take a seat, call her again." Felix says, leaning forward on his elbows, sat on the edge of one of the boxing rings. "Look, Frankie is a tough cookie, she told you she would be back soon. Girls take forever getting ready, maybe when she said soon, she meant in girl time."

He's got a good point.

"I never thought I'd see the day when we would see him like this." Scar says, an amused grin on his face. I feel like he's purposely trying to push my buttons right now, that he wants to get knocked out.

He may have trained me, but both of us know I could do it.

"You don't remember October when she left him?" Felix laughs, and I suck my teeth, clenching my jaw as I walk away. It's the sensible option right now.

Don't get adopted by Scar, this is what happens.

"Hey! No, we're joking around, liven up!" Felix yells after me, and I then hear the sound of him jumping down and then following me. "Come on."

I spin around, running my fingers through my hair that's damp with sweat and is continuously getting in my way, taking a deep breath as I look up at him.

"'Liven up'?! My girlfriend has left, she's taken my car and fucking gone, sending me nothing but a basic text message. I'm sorry if this may seem dramatic to you, but you don't understand this situation. You know nothing about her." I fume, and what's hypocritical about my statement is that I truly don't know her, not everything.

This is all leads to something, something she hasn't told me. I'm a hypocrite, I'm keeping my past hidden, not that I need to, but I still am.

"I'm sorry, okay, we'll shut up. Just call her, text her. She's going to be fine." He says much softer now, holding out my phone, and I grab it, sighing when I open it to see no notifications, well none from her.

I hate this so much.

I've never cared for someone before, no one except myself and to be honest that's a push. My head has always been in the game – boxing, girls, parties. Now it's Francesca, college, me, and then boxing. I haven't given up my dream, just sidelined it this past month. I haven't fought since the game on my birthday, a whole month ago now.

So much has happened since then, so many good things, but again, the most horrible things have happened too.

Everything that has happened with Francesca this last month, the whirlwind that we've been swept up in – I've not really thought about the other things, nevertheless process it. The things I've kept hidden from everyone, especially her. Talking about my problems whilst she's dealing with her own demons, is pure selfishness and I could never do it. Not now.

She may hate me for knowing who I really am, who the person she's actually dating.

Right now though, that's the last thing I'm bothered about. I open our messages, only one conversation present which we had, sat right next to each other last night in bed, her giggles had warmed me. There's twenty or so messages of mine after the one lined sentence of hers, and I type out again.

'Please answer, please let me know you're okay, I need to know you're okay. Just call me, please. - E'

I'm spiraling, I know that. She could actually be okay, be safe and I'm just being dramatic.

I can't trust that though. I can't trust the optimism and positives on this one.

I stare at the screen, waiting and hoping that I get a reply back, but the message just sits there unwanted.

"Kane, come on, it's going to be okay." Felix assures me, still standing in front of me when I look up.

"I don't-" I'm cut off by my phone ringing, and my heart picks up when I see her name displayed.

"See." He smiles at me.

I shoo him away, quickly answering it and bringing my phone to my ear, the first thing I hear is uneven breathing. My heart drops as soon as a sob comes through the speaker.

"Ethan." She croaks, her voice so broken.

"Hey baby, where are you? Are you safe?" I ask, keeping my voice soft and controlled, but my head is wanting me to punch something. Felix maybe. I knew something was wrong.

"I- I've taken too much." She sobs, and my heart drops, my stomach going with it. My feet are already carrying me, I'm running out of the gym as soon as the words leave her. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted it to stop, I wanted it to stop so much."

"Baby, what've you taken?" I rush out, greeted with silence. It's silent for a while, and I'm about to lose it, that's until she speaks again.

"The pills, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She's crying, her voice barely audible, and a knot forms in my throat, grabbing Scar's car keys from the hook in the reception area.

"Francesca, can you throw up for me? Please, I need you to throw up right now." I urge, so the drugs leave her system, pushing the front door open, it banging loudly when it slams behind me.

"I can't, I can't do it." She sniffles.

"You need to, baby, you need to." I say, pulling at the roots of my hair.

"Ethan, please, I- I need you." She's killing me here, and I can hear in her voice, the drugs are starting to take effect.

Rushing into the vehicle of Scar's – the fucking mini-van, the other end of the line is consumed with her cries, until it's silent and for a second, my heart stops.

"Francesca, where the fuck are you?!" I raise my voice, my patience no longer intact, and she sobs in response.

"The dorm." She whispers, and I turn the engine on, not bothering with the seat belt when I pull out of the parking space.

I'm so fucking stupid to think she wouldn't be there. I could have stopped this all.

"Baby, you need to get to the bathroom, you need to make yourself sick. How many pills have you taken?" I ask, hoping it's not too much – not enough to cause an overdose.

"I don't know, I don't- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Her cries haven't stopped, uncontrollable sobs leaving her.

"Francesca, listen to me. I know it's scary, I know you want this to stop, but you need to get these drugs out of you. This is going to be the only way." I say, needing her to do this before all the drugs hit her.

The sound of her breathing is the only thing I can hear until I'm grimacing at the sound of her gagging and spluttering out coughs – it's a horrible sound and I wish to never hear it again, until I do, several times in fact. My mind isn't focusing on what happening though, it's what she's doing. She's getting the drugs out of her system.

"I'm on my way now, is the door unlocked?" I ask, not having a key nor a fucking student badge. Fuck.

No response.

"Francesca!" I yell, hating the silence. I can't have silence.

Then I hear her dry heaving again, it's somewhat comforting me. It's better than silence... in this case.

"You're going to be okay, darling; I promise you." It's a fucking awful promise, one I can't truly make because I am still unaware what drugs she's taken, how much of them she has or anything.

I can't lose her though, I can't.

"Francesca, I need you to talk to me." I urge.

Silence.

"Please baby, I need to hear you." I'm begging here, the knot in throat not budging. I feel nauseous, I'm so terrified right now.

"Ethan... forgive me." She says from another loud sob, and I exhale a shaky breath.

"There's no forgiving to be done. You're going to be okay; I'm going to be with you soon." I promise, keeping my eyes on the road even though it's fucking difficult with the amount of snow.

At least the roads are empty – I'll be there soon enough. Usually with traffic it takes ten minutes, I can make it in a few.

"It was all my fault. Everything is always my fault. You should hate me. I hate me." She mutters, her voice somewhat emotionless, leaving my mind wondering.

"No, don't you dare say that! I would never hate you." I should keep my frustration and anger at bay, but when she says things like this, I can't stop the words coming out harsh and loud.

I hate how she talks about herself; it kills me to hear her say she hates the person I feel so strongly for. I hate that, but I could never hate her.

"Why- Wh- why are you being so nice?" Her voice is slurring and my foot slams down on the accelerator, the sound of the wheels spinning underneath the car.

"Francesca, keep talking. I need you to stay awake. Can you please just keep talking?" I beg, taking a sharp and stupid turn right. Why I decided to take that turn whilst driving this fast, nevertheless in the snow, I will never know. I just know I have to get to her, and I'm a good enough driver that I wouldn't lose control of the vehicle.

Thank God no one is on the road right now. I have enough guilt eating away at me lately.

"I screwed up..." She sniffles, taking a heavy breath. "My life, it's fucked up and I can't do this anymore Ethan. It's too hard. I can't keep going on like this."

I thought my heart couldn't break further, but that's just completely shattered it.

"Baby, you've got so much to live for. I know it's hard, it's fucked up. I've been here, I've felt this, but it's going to get better. Whatever you're going through is short term, it won't last forever. You can't give everything up, you've got so much to do. You've yet to see me fight someone in the ring. You need to graduate for fuck's sake, and I can't wait to watch you do exactly that because you are going to. We've got so much to do together. We've still got to go to the fair, I have to win you a bear, so we can be a cheesy cliché couple." I'm crying now, tears are streaming down my face as I try to keep my voice steady, so she doesn't hear it. I can't let her feel guilty right now.

"Yeah?" She croaks.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." I urge, a feeling of relief washing over me when the college comes into view. "Baby, I'm so close. You need to stay on the phone with me, keep talking. Tell me what you want to do... what you want to do after college, where do you want to work? Where do you want to go on vacation?"

No response yet again, and I bite down on my lip, so hard that the familiar taste of copper dances on my taste buds.

"Francesca, I swear to God!" I exclaim, my frustration getting the better of me. I really need to get ahold of myself. I'm not making this situation any better by yelling.

There's coughing on the other end of the line, then the familiar sound of her throwing up again. My stomach twists, and I grit my teeth as I approach her building, seeing my red car parked in an oddly fashion next to her old one.

This drive has lasted not even close to five minutes, but it's truly felt like hours on end.

I need to see her.

"Francesca, I'm here. You need to talk to me, keep awake for me, okay?" I beg.

"I can't-" She's coughing again. "I can't get the door."

"I'll get in, don't worry." How, I don't have a clue but if I have to break the door down, I won't hesitate to do so.

I grab the keys out of the ignition before flying the door open, getting out in a rush.

"Baby, talk, it doesn't have to be anything particular, just something so I can hear you." I gulp back the knot in my throat, briefly looking behind me to lock the car.

I just need to hear her, so I know she's still awake - I can't see her, this is the best we can do right now. I just need to hear her though.

"I'm sorry for everything. For being selfish. For doing this. For ruining everything. I've ruined everything." She breaks down, and I let out a shaky breath. When I said to talk, I meant more along the lines of the weather, something to distract her, not to make this worse.

"You've not ruined anything." I assure her, hoping she's not insinuating that Christmas is ruined because it isn't. Christmas isn't for another three days, it's not ruined.

Thankfully the usual security guard isn't here, so I try the door but of course it's locked. Just my luck.

"Baby, what's the number to get in your building?" I ask hastily, running my fingers through my hair.

"You're here?" She perks up, and then exhales shakily. "1... 7, um, 2-"

"9." I finish, punching in the same exact code in as my building, and I let out a quick breath when the door unlocks. I'm one step closer to her.

I haven't stopped rushing, not from the moment I answered this phone call. And thanks to fucking maintenance, I brace the stairs. I don't care about pacing myself, I run up them.

The fifth floor has never seemed so far away.

She doesn't stay in silence this time; she repeats the same words over and over again through heart crushing sobs.

It was all my fault. It was all my fault.

Like a broken record.

"Francesca, I'm here, I'm going to have to break the door." I warn her, so the noise won't startle her.

"Okay." She says weakly.

"Fuck." I mutter, staring at the black door in front of me. I quickly put my phone on speaker before putting in the pocket of my sweatpants, so I can still hear her – not that she's talking much.

Rolling my shoulders; preparing myself, and with no second thoughts, I throw my left side of my body – my whole weight into the door, the hinges only cracking slightly when I do.

"Fuck sake!" I curse until my breath, my frustration more and more apparent.

We're so close, yet there's so many borders between us.

I need to get to her. I need to see her. I need to help her.

Taking a breath, I put all that frustration, the frustration from all of this shit we've both had to deal with lately, into landing one powerful kick of my right foot to the door handle, the door swinging wide open when soon as I do.

I immediately grab my phone out of my pocket, slamming the door behind me, the lock well and truly broken when it doesn't shut properly, but that can always get changed.

"Francesca, are you in the bathroom?" I ask into the phone even though I'm pretty sure, running my hand through my hair, my breathing labored as I make my way through the dorm.

Silence.

"Francesca!" I exclaim.

No response.

"Francesca, answer me!" I yell, the knot only expanding, making it hard for me to swallow. "Baby!"

Nothing, I'm greeted with total silence.

With no question in it, I sprint straight towards the bathroom door, the fucking door being locked again. I swear she's made this as hard as possible for me.

This time there's no preparing, there's no hesitation when I kick the door open, it banging straight into the wall, most definitely leaving a hole where the handle slammed into it.

My feet stop momentarily at the sight in front of me, a sight I thought I'd never see in my life. She's laid in front of the toilet partially naked, only in underwear I saw her put on this morning, her body near lifeless, blood leaking from the fresh wounds on her legs, the razors at the side of her. I don't let myself think about it, I have to get her, wake her and then keep her awake.

"Baby, hey baby." I crouch down, one hand cupping her mascara stained cheek, one under her armpit to keep her upright, and my touch jolts her awake and she chokes in a breath when she sees me, then stares down at her body.

"I'm so sorry." She cries, and I pull her into me, sighing as she sobs into my chest. "I'm sorry."

With our phone conversation still happening, I quickly press the red button on her phone as I keep my hold on her. Her cries having no sign of stopping, but that's better than silence. She's awake.

"Did you get all the drugs up?" I ask, I need to.

"I- I think." She pulls away, crying again when she points at my t-shirt that now has her makeup on.

"It's fine, don't worry about that, everything's okay. You're going to be okay. But, you need some water and you need to be sick again, we need to be sure." I hate to ask for this, she's worn out, she's well and truly spent, but I can't risk the unknown.

"I can't. Ethan... it hurts." She's holding her throat, her voice croaky.

"Please, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, it'll hurt, but I'm here." I assure, hushing her, holding her as I gently wipe the tears streaming down.

She nods slightly, and I exhale a quick breath before moving her, minding her legs, so her back is leant up against the bath, and when I know she's steady, I stand and grab one of the glasses from the sink area, the pink one that she usually uses.

"This water will have to do for now." I mutter to myself, filling it up and I quickly crouch down to her level, raising the glass to her lips. She closes her eyes, defeated, but gently takes a sip.

Right now, I don't have a clue what I'm doing, I've never dealt with this before, I'm just doing what I think will work – I could be totally fucking this up.

Seeing her in this much of a state is devastating, and leaves my mind wondering but I don't have time to even focus on those thoughts, it's on her and only her.

"Keep drinking, you're doing amazing baby." I tell her, kissing the top of her forehead, pushing the emotions away that I'm currently feeling. I feel like crying beside her, holding her whilst also breaking down but I'm trying my best, trying to stay afloat.

Pulling back, I tip the cup, urging her to drink a little faster and thankfully she does with no complaints, and I grab the hair tie from my wrist and bundle up her hair, so it's out of the way.

I know the drugs that are likely still in her body will be taking effect soon enough, it's only been seven minutes since she called me, and I don't know how long ago she first took them.

"I don't want to hurt you, but you need to get on your knees for me." I ignore how dirty those words sound because right now it's the furthest away from what we're doing.

Her shaky hands hold onto mine, pulling herself up and she winces slightly, and I make sure that her hair is definitely out the way before she hunches over the toilet bowl.

"You're doing so good, keep ahold of my hand." I say, and she nods, gulping heavily as she tightens her fingers around mine. I grimace when she brings her other hand up to her mouth, making herself gag and hurl into the bowl. I rub her back, her snotty cries filling the bathroom, and she continues to dry heave, the contents mostly being pure acid and water.

No drugs in sight – thank God.

"Are you okay?" I ask since she's still hunched over, her face whitewashed, and she nods, looking up at me. She shuffles, so she's now sat down on the floor, her elbow resting on the toilet seat, looking weak. "I'm going to call an ambulance; you're going to be okay."

"No, no you can't. I'm okay, I'm okay. No ambulance." She's quick to refuse, her voice still tired, and I frown at her. She's lost her mind.

"You need medical attention." I insist, only for her head to shake with fear in her eyes. "Francesca, the drugs-"

"They're gone, they're out of me." She says, and I rub my hand over my face. "Ethan, please, you can't ring them. I'm okay, I just need to sleep."

"The last thing you're doing is sleeping right now." I bite back, immediately groaning at my outburst. I quickly soften my face, cupping hers. "I'm sorry, I'm just-"

"No ambulance." She looks me dead in my eyes, her own red and dilated.

"Okay." I'm stupid, totally and utterly stupid, agreeing to this. She nods, bringing her hands up her face, taking deep breaths. I take this time to look around the bathroom, the floor is covered with her blood, the razor blades next to the deadly contraptions. "Francesca, were the blades clean?"

I need to ask.

She blinks up at me, nodding as her eyes gloss over again when she glances down at her legs.

"Hey, no, no crying. Do you have a first-aid kit?" I ask softly, tilting her head up, and she shakily points to the top cabinet. "I'm going to have to clean these and dress them, will you let me do that?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was panicking. I don't even remember-" She's rambling, and I shake my head at her as she sobs again. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing to me, I'm not going anywhere. You're going to be okay." I assure her, repeating the same words, I have repeated several times recently.

I take my white t-shirt off over my head, and she looks at me in confusion, that is before I put it over her own head – attempting to cover her near naked body. It's drowning her, so she keeps it lifted up slightly so it doesn't drop on her thighs.

I stand, going over to the sink and open the cupboard, my eyes dancing along the many shelves before I see the green box in there at the top. I crouch back down in front of her, kneeling when I open it and she places her hand over mine making me look up at her.

"Thank you. For everything." She whispers, pressing her lips into a straight line.

"No worries, darling, but I have to warn you, this is going to hurt like a bitch." I say in all seriousness and she nods slightly, and I graze one of the cuts with the antiseptic wipe. She sucks in a breath, chocking on a sob when it comes into contact. I'm being gentle, really gentle, and thankfully the wounds aren't too deep, but still quite big.

The process of getting these clean takes quite a while because they're so painful for her, but she kept being brave, holding on to my hand for support, digging in her nails when it was too much – not that I minded.

For the deeper cuts, I used the much thicker and bigger dressings, and then wrapped both of her thighs with bandages which made her wince. My heart breaking when I had to, wanting to take away the pain from her – emotional, mental and physical.

I'm unaware what brought this on, but whoever called her, causing her to spiral like this, is just begging at this point, like they want to be murdered.

I want to save her, take away all this pain. I just hope that she is savable, that one day she doesn't have this, that this is just short term.

I'm not so sure though.

~~~~~

A/N

Well, that's me in tears. I hate hurting my characters, I fucking hate it yet I still do it.

Here is your line to personally attack me:

This is officially the last chapter of Ethan's POV for this book, and I'm sad about it but it may not be the last ever...

Please, if you are struggling, there are hotlines, websites out there, wherever you live in the world. Get help, don't suffer in silence. There's always someone wanting to listen. I love you all, please stay safe.

Life update: I wrote 1000 words of this at work, so if it's not as fluent throughout, that is why because I haven't had time to edit it. I'm really tired, listening to music at 2am, so I feel like that's a mood. But I aren't at work until Thursday now, so I'm happy about that.

Question of the chapter:

What is your biggest fear?

One of them is that I won't be able to conceive children, and that terrifies me because it's something I really want when I'm older. I don't think I'll truly be happy without kids. But also, bugs and heights.

I hope this chapter was okay!

Buckle your seatbelt, only six chapters left!

Thank you for reading! Please comment your thoughts, vote by pressing the little star, and if you want, you can follow me too. Xx

4980 words!

~B