I had another fight with Bambam today. It felt more like hell than our previous ones, and I took that as a sign. He had run off to who knows where. All I knew was that Yugyeom wasn't here, and that I was alone. 

I remember the last two words we said to each other. He said, "Goodnight,"

I said, "Goodbye," 

I bet he never even thought twice about it. Or what it meant.

I squashed my cigarette on the table, letting the smoke blend in with the air. It was disgusting, but so addictive. And that was my last one, all I had now was an empty packet. The light at the end of it flickered feebly until it faded away completely.

And the knife on the kitchen table looked oddly even more tempting this evening. I almost laughed at myself, for thinking of something so... strange. I couldn't find the right words to match the feelings I was experiencing. 

I walked past the table, shaking my head, and filled up a glass with ice cold water. I set it down on a coaster on the table, and sat down on a chair opposite it. I took a sip. My eyes seemed to waver towards the shine on the blade. I knew it wasn't normal to be like this. Like me.

It was only centimetres away. One reach and it would be mine. The tips of my fingers slid along the side of the knife. It was as cold as the water in my glass. I grasped it readily by the handle, twisting it around until the light bounced off the walls perfectly. That's all anyone searches for; perfection. And I didn't have one bit of it. 

I even stared at my reflection in it for a brief moment, wondering whether it was too late to sway my mind. And then I smiled. 

After the first swift movement, the pain hit like a bullet. I didn't know whether I could even finish it off. The floor became red, so did the table, so did my arms, so did the knife, and so did my water. It was everywhere. 

I heard the door creak open, and I panicked, the knife slipping onto the floor with a slight clang. I fell with it, into my own mess. My eyes flickered, and I heard heavy footsteps, and heavy breaths. I wasn't sure if they were my own or his. 

His arms flew around me, and held me tight. He grasped for a tea towel, and pressed it against my wrist, trying his best to ignore my obvious screams of pain. 

"...Why?" He was in tears. I felt guilty.

"I'm so sorry Yugyeom," I whispered, my eyes glistening too. 

"It will be okay, it will," He repeated himself, showing a weak smile. Was it meant to be comforting? 

"Let's just clean all this up, and get you all sorted before your brother gets home," Yugyeom nodded fervently, reassuring himself just as much as me. 

I nodded along with him, giving into his perfect world of idealism.

"Don't do this again, okay?" His eyes were filled with sincerity and his words were soft.

I said nothing.