"Mm…" Rowan curled up into a ball again and closed his eyes, slowly beginning to relax again after having been startled.
Boys will be boys (CLOSED MxM ROLEPLAY)(Stalkers welcomed and appreciated <3)
Damien glanced at his shut blinds. Those blocked out almost all of the sunlight, leaving his room a dimly lit space where the only light came from an orange salt lamp on top of his desk. He slipped out to feed Ginger and change her litter (and then thoroughly wash his hands), coming back after ten or so minutes.
Rowan was still semi awake upon Damien's return. "Mmmm… don't you have to go to school, Damien…?" He asked.
“Oh, fuck.” Damien squeezed his eyes shut, freezing in place. “God, I do. It’s only 7:40-ish, right? I have… 5 minutes to get ready and catch the bus. Easy.”
"Mm… Do you think your parents will mind if I stuck around? I can't be bothered, and I'm crippled, so that's my excuse. I'm 'recovering'."
“My mom’s at work until 7, and I think my dad just left on another trip, so you’ll be fine.” Damien was digging around for clothes, changing as fast as humanly possible and running his fingers through his hair in absence of a comb.
"Ah… yeah… I'll probably just try to sleep." Rowan yawned and closed his eyes again, not liking the idea of being alone all day.
“Smart. Ginger’s here all day if you wanna spend some time with her.” He tugged on his shoes, snatching up his backpack and phone. “Uh- fuck, yeah, I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a couple hours!”
"Bye, Damien…" Rowan sighed and just tried to clear his mind so he could sleep. Eventually, he managed to doze off again.
(TS to when Damien gets back?)
(Nah, I bet we can find something interesting to happen. I can timeskip to interesting things?)
(Uh, sure! I can’t think of many atm, sorry!)
(Nah dw I got it)
Rowan wasn't able to sleep long, unfortunately, and started pacing as well as he could on crutches. He curled up on the couch for a while, got dragged into his swirling storm of thoughts, and inevitably had another anxiety attack. He wasn't doing much better an hour later; in fact, he'd gotten worse. He pretty much couldn't even think anymore except about how he was alone and would be alone forever, even though Damien was returning in only a few hours. After a quick blip in which he lost all conscious thought of what he was doing, he found himself kneeling in the bathroom with his arms bleeding profusely. His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed his phone, still panicking.
dam ier n
i d id smthing rlly bad
(Thanks, thanks)
Damien sat in class, half asleep already. Having history first period, especially when your teacher was about 500 years old and all they did was lecture, was not very stimulating. He took the occasional note, pretending to be paying attention, but mostly just zoning in and out. His phone vibrated from his back pocket, though luckily it wasn’t audible to most anyone else. He checked the notifications, his face paling as he saw them.
what happened????????
are you ok??
He raised his hand to get the teacher’s attention. “Mr Brown, can I go to the nurse? I’m getting a migraine.” He was lying through his teeth, but it was believable enough. After all, he did have chronic migraines, and he took medication for them that was on his record.
Rowan curled up into a tight ball, hyperventilating while he watched his blood spread across the bathroom tiles.
cn u come bac kj?
i think m gonna pas s out
m hand s r shakin damen
m sorry i got blood n the fkoor
fuck yeah ofc
please dont do anything stupid
i couldnt give a shit abt my floor dude are you ok
Damien left class at the first notice that he could, playing up his fake headache to get permission to leave from the nurse. He headed outside to the parking lot, getting into his car and heading home as quickly as be could without getting pulled over.
omw please be safe
(i know that damien said he had to catch the bus, but that’s just sorta a thing he says?? he essentially just meant that was how long until he had to leave, lmao)
(Lol np)
m scared damien
i don t wanna die
Rowan sobbed quietly, his tears mingling with the blood on the floor. He was vaguely aware of his blood soaking into his hair.
i dint meanto im sorry
Damien pulled into his driveway, hopping out and essentially sprinting to the bathroom. He felt sick at the sight of all the blood. What could he even do? Call an ambulance? He couldn’t deal with them shit his own. Damien immediately crouched down to Rowan’s level, taking his arms to assess the damage. “Fuck- I’m calling am ambulance. I can’t- I-“ He choked out his words, fumbling his phone to dial 911.
Rowan was shaking violently and didn't seem to be fully there. It looked like he had found a razor under the sink and had effectively shredded up his forearms. Thankfully, none of the cuts were deep. Rowan hadn't been actively thinking enough to attempt anything permanent. He was still crying while he stared blankly at the wall. "M'sorry… s-so sorry… d… d-didn't mean… to…" He stammered in scarcely more than a whisper.
Damien shook his head, frantic as he talked to the operator. “I-it’s- no, they’re not deep- but there’s a lot of blood, he’s in a really bad way-“ He took another look at Rowan’s arm to better describe it, but nearly threw up when he did. He answered a few more questions, the calmness of the 911 operator infuriating as he gave her the address and hung up. “Ro- hey, hey, buddy, look at me. I-“ Hot tears fell down his cheeks. He really didn’t know how to handle this.
Rowan lay his head on Damien's leg, still shaking violently. When prompted, he looked up at Damien, but his eyes were glassy and distant. "Mmmmm…" He whined weakly.
“Fuck…” He mumbled softly, furiously rubbing the tears away from his eyes. “I- goddammit, Ro-“ He was barely holding it together, but he knew that crying would only make it worse.
"M'sorry, Damien…" Rowan mumbled, his words slurred. He closed his eyes and sighed shakily. He was tired of struggling to stay conscious.
“Okay- uh- fuck- I need you to stay awake, okay? I called a- uh- I called an ambulance, they should- they should- uh- uh-“ Damien’s mind blanked. He had a stutter that came out sometimes, whether he was stressed or talking about something he was passionate about. It always bugged him, but now moreso than ever.
"M'tryin… m'so fuckin tired… c-can't…" Rowan's eyelids fluttered as he struggled to stay conscious. He was vaguely aware of faint sirens in the distance.
“I know y…” His words stopped, stuck on that one letter sound for what felt like years. “Y-you’re tired, okay? I know. But you gotta stay- uh- you gotta s- fuck. Awake. You gotta be awake.”
"Mmmm… w-why?" Rowan asked weakly, keeping his eyes closed. "I… I wanna… wanna s-sleep… I'm so tired…"
“Y-you just can’t, okay? Uh- ‘cause- fuck.. uh- there’s not time? You can sleep later if you promise me y-you’ll- you’ll stay awake no-ow, okay?” Damien choked out his words, his face puffy and red from crying.
"I-I guess I can try…" Rowan opened his eyes weakly, the blood flowing from his arms finally beginning to slow a bit. He heard the sirens grow louder and then footsteps rushing into the house.
Damien didn’t dare move from his spot. “You’re g- uh- gonna be okay, okay?” He looked up to see the paramedics come into the bathroom, swallowing the lump in his throat. He barely said a word.