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You were doing pretty well recently.. well, up until now.
You knew the fall was coming and there was only so little time until your mental health starting to decline into the fiery pits of hell.. Though granted you are already there physically...
Most of the stress purely came from deadlines for practical exams in your classes and the little work you had done for them. Who could blame you? It had been a tough year and it wasn't as if humans were naturally inclined towards magic. You may be the exception but somehow there are still simple things in potions class that you couldn't do. Well, that was definitely a big part of it but one of the other things that were bugging you was just the brothers in general. They were loud and annoying and honestly probably the most self-centred people you have ever met.
Correction. Demons.
Maybe it was simply because you were a human, but your tolerance for their antics was getting smaller by the day. Every time one of them tried to drag you on some tedious adventure or started to fight over your opinions every time you entered the room, was another blow to your patience.
But how could you be rude to them over that? What could you even do? Blow up in their faces about how annoying and ungrateful they can be?
Even in your state, you could tell that would be too far.
It wasn't like you hated them anyway. Things were just a bit much at the moment.
Speaking of too much, what you're doing right now might be deemed as that.
Holding a razor blade to your skin as you quickly pull it across. Blood bubbling out of the slit slowly.
It's a shame to be doing it after your clean streak of 2 months. Pretty good if you say so yourself.. But the itch had been needing to be scratched for that entire time.
Today was the day when one fight at dinnertime between he brothers became too much and pushed you over the edge.
Were you crying? No. You should be.. You haven't really cried for a while. Or at least, not cried in a way that felt relieving. Usually now only a few tears would seep their way out, being caused by some sad material that you forced yourself to watch rather than actually feeling the urge to.
The cuts would only hurt for a second, bright white lines of flames before simmering to a soft fuzz.
This was what was relieving now.
Even if you could barely react to it anymore.
It's whatever. Maybe you're back in the cycle. But why should you care?
Caring will only make you feel worse. You have to get better.
You pushed the paper towel into the scars, letting it soak up the blood for a few seconds before going back to cutting. It isn't as deep as you used to do. You know that shouldn't annoy you, but it does.
Why can't you do it deeper..?
It was almost like at this point you had completely forgotten why you had started up again, rather thinking more about the act of cutting itself. God what are you? Some faker who only does it for the scars? Get a grip.
As sad as it is, pain is the only thing that will give you eternal comfort at this point.
The bathroom door had creaked open , unbeknownst to you.
Mammon had frozen still, glancing down at MC as they sat on the bathroom floor, razor blade in hand and nursing their bloodied arm with a paper towel. What..? What were they..
"MC..?"
He watched them turn around, eyes widening before they dropped the blade and paper towel all together. So many lines in such a small area. Did they do this to themself? He had heard about demons who tended to hurt themselves out of depression and other reasons but there was no way that his human was like this too. How did he miss this.
A million thoughts had raced through his head before MC began to stand up, holding their hands up as if they were waiting for him to scream at them.
"It's not what it looks like-"
That was a lie. It is certainly what it looks like.
Of course your favourite out of all of the brothers had to be the first to see this.
And of course he had to walk in.
He didn't say anything, he just walked over and hugged them.
You just froze.. head being pulled closer into the crook of his neck by his own hand.
Maybe it was okay to cry..
So you did, hugging him back as tight as you could, sparing the bloodied arm so it didn't stain his clothing.
"I'm not gonna' ask why if ya don't wanna talk about it.. D-Do you..?" He mumbled the last part, glancing down at your head..
Once he saw your head shake, he sighed. "Mhm.. we can uh.. talk about it later if ya want."
"I'm sorry-" You cried into him, seemingly breaking. To think that before this all happened, you could never willingly bring yourself to be this vulnerable.
All it took was Mammon.
He didn't know exactly what to do, but he knew what you liked. You liked his theatrics of course, but you much preferred when he was being himself. When he wasn't trying to big himself up and didn't try and hide his true feelings. Of course it was a big ask for him to bring down that mask, but he didn't care if it meant helping you through this.
"Don't be sorry- It's okay.."
Mammon was pretty eternal too, you guess.
And pretty loving.