But you're so far away

Cotl · 03-26-2010, 02:42 PM

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Word Count: 000 Awhh, cotl's going to be hurt that she left.

In Character

A minute of waiting, and he ascended up the stairs and to his room. It only took him seconds to get the gas mask, jar or weed, and two bottles of Whiskey and then he was headed back down to the living room, he put the mak on his head so he could transport it easier with the other objects. He slowly made his way down the stairs with the fragile objects, him sort of wishing now that the woman would have come up to his room to join him with the celebration of nothing. Perhaps it was just Cotl wanting to celebrate friendship. It was always rare that Cotl had friends, and he appreciated then fully when he did. He shrugged off little arguments like this one so the friendship could be continued, so he would not lose a friend. Once he had made it down the stairs, he quickened back up and walked into the living room. There was no one there..

Both audits fell down. This had happened to him before, back in Germany. It brought up memories that he didn't want to deal with. The cold eyes of the hybrid had fallen to the ground as he had put the things in his hands on the middle table that had once separated the two. The male sniffled as he had sat down on the couch. You're fucking useless, Cotl.-NYEH- You always fuck dhings up! You ALWAYS fuck dhings up! the male scolded himself, his head being pushed into his hands. Out of the anger that had swelled up in his chest, he slammed his hand on the table, in the form of a fist. He got up and ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and put his hand on the counter before stabbing he center of his hand, the knife driving into the flesh of the being, who fell to the ground, his hand stuck to the counter because of his furious punishment that he gave to himself. He was a bad boy, and so he had to punish himself. He looked at the ground, a single tear falling from his eye. I'm a fucking loser. I'll never have anydhing. Anyone.. the German reached his free hand up, and he twisted the knife, making him cry out in pain. Pathetic! He screamed, before he stood back up and looked at his hand. He probably wouldn't be able to use it for some time now, because of his stupidness. He withdrew the knife and slammed it on the counter before e looked at the wound, it gushing out blood from both sides of his hand. Marik would probably ask what happened later. If his brother even gave a shit about him anymore. It seemed like he fucked everything up anyways. He wouldn't be surprised if his brother hated him too. Another tear fell down his face. He slowly walked back into the living room and packed himself a bowl and put the mask back over his face with his good hand. He held the carb with his bad hand and lit the bowl with his good and breathed in the smoke. He'd just have to be strong. He guessed that a knife through his hand was enough punishment for dissatisfying the woman. As long as he was high, he wouldn't care.

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