that calms me.

I decide where the best place to make the cut is, the place

where she won’t notice. Finally, I slide the bandage down and put

the razor to my wrist, not by a vein but to the side where there are

already a collection of scars. My head is tipped down and I’m

about ready to make the first incision when I hear the door open.

I freeze. No one has ever walked in on me while I was doing

it. And what’s worse is that it’s Callie. I don’t even have to look up to know it’s her. I can smell her shampoo and I can hear the sound

of her uneven breathing.

“Kayden.” Her voice is alarmingly calm, not at all what I

expected.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. I don’t want to look up because then it’s real

and she’ll be able to see how weak I really am. Plus, she’ll make me

stop. And I’ve never had to stop when I’m almost there. I don’t

know how my body or mind’s going to react.

Her feet shuffle across the floor as she inches toward me. I

still have my head tipped down, my teeth biting hard on my

tongue. Her bare feet appear in my line of vision and her legs are

naked three-quarters of the way up and then my shirt covers her

small-framed body.

“Kayden,” she repeats, sounding so fucking calm it’s

unsettling.

I still have the edge of the razor aligned with my skin and

every muscle and vein below the skin has warped and convoluted

into knots. “Callie, just walk out and shut the door. I’ll be out in a minute.”

There’s a long pause and I think that maybe she’s actually

considering it.

“No,” she says firmly. “I won’t.”

My hand trembles and my heart thuds brutally inside my

chest. I don’t want to snap at her, but I’m panicking and my

feelings are controlling me. “Callie, I swear to God if you care

about me at all, you’ll turn around and walk back out into the

room.”

She takes another small step, reducing the already limited

space between us. “I do care about you and that’s why I’m not

going to leave.”

My head snaps up and rage bursts inside me, flames ripping

through my body. I’m about to ruin everything but I can’t stop it.

“Just get the hell out!”

“No.” Determination burns in her eyes. She doesn’t even look

like the Callie I know. She looks strong and confident. “I won’t let

you do it.”

I lean in toward her with the razor still pressed against my

skin and I notice her gaze flick to it. “If you know what’s good for

you, you’ll leave. You don’t get this… I don’t need you. Now leave.”

Her hand snaps out and she grabs ahold of my wrist, her tiny

fingers encircling it firmly. “I do get it. You want to stop whatever the hell it is you’re feeling and this is the only way you know how.

And because I get that, I’m not going to leave. If you walked in on

me when I was… when I was trying to… when I was trying to make

myself throw up, I’d want you to stop me even though I know I’d

try and argue and justify it with you.” Her fingers pry into mine as

she tries to steal the razor from my hand. “I get you!”

For a brief second her words stop the uncontrollable urge to

stab the razor deep into my skin, but then I panic again. I jerk my

arm back from her grip, ready to scream at her and probably say

words that will scar her for life. But as I move my arm, she winces

and she hastily withdraws her hand back to her. Her finger

skimmed the razor and her blood is dripping onto the floor by her

feet.

I no longer give a shit about the razor or getting rid of my

emotions. I chuck the blade into the sink. “Callie, I’m so fucking

sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” I’ve fucked things up again.

She’s clutching onto her finger and blood is spilling out and

her face is contorted in pain. She looks at me through her bangs

and I prepare myself for whatever she’s going to say: rejection,

hatred, anger. But then she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she

moves toward me and the next thing I know, she climbs onto me,

hitching her legs around my waist and fastening herself to me.

Then she wraps her arms around the back of my neck and presses

her forehead to the side of my neck, right where my pulse is

throbbing. I tense, but then a tranquil feeling rushes through my

body. My heart starts to still as she hugs me resolutely, trusting me wholly. I’ve never experienced anything like it, especially in the

middle of one of my meltdowns and I don’t know what to do with

myself except stand there with my hands lifelessly at my sides.

“Callie,” I say, but she steals my voice as she clutches onto

me and places kisses on my neck.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispers between each touch of her lips. “I

promise.”

I don’t fully understand what it is she’s promising, or maybe I

do and I’m just not ready to admit it yet. Either way, I find that I’m calm enough to leave the bathroom. I walk back to the bed and lie

us down. She refuses to let go of me even when I get us onto the

mattress. She crosses her ankles behind my waist, latching onto

me and making it impossible for me to escape.

But that’s okay. For the first time in my life I’m content

enough that I don’t want to.

Callie

I had one of those moments where I knew that every single

thing I did mattered, from the way that I breathed, to the tone of

my voice. Honestly, I am terrified out of my mind. I’d felt him wake

up, but I didn’t think too much off it, until suddenly I did. It

snapped me out of my sleep and I went in there, knowing I was

about to walk in on something that could potentially break me,

just like I did when I was twelve. This time things would end

differently though because I’d be strong and I’d save him, just like

he’s saved me.

He’s pissed about it, which is understandable, but it doesn’t

mean I give up and eventually it ends okay. Well, other than the

fact that I cut my finger open, something I’m painfully reminded of

when I open my eyes.

The sun is sparkling through the window and paints the sky

in contrasting shades of pink and orange. My finger is throbbing

and I realize I never cleaned it up. There’s blood on my hand, on

my arm, on the bed, and on Kayden’s chest where I am resting my

hand.

I sit up, cradling it in my other hand, and blink my eyes until

the room comes into focus. I’m still wearing Kayden’s shirt and it

smells like his cologne. Swinging my feet off the bed, I leave him to sleep as I head into the bathroom.

My hair is a tangled mess and there are dark circles under

my eyes. I feel exhausted as I turn the faucet on and wince when

the warm water runs over the wound, washing away the blood and