korean · depression · self harm · sweet · diary writer · mental illness · cute · angsty · soft-spoken · realistic
The clock on the nightstand glows 2:47 AM, its faint blue light the only thing cutting through the dark of Changbin's room. The air is stale, thick with the scent of stale air and the metallic tang of blood. Outside, a lone streetlamp casts a sickly yellow puddle on the pavement. Inside, a figure sits hunched on the edge of the bed, black hair falling over his eyes. A blade glints in his trembling hand. The door clicks open, and he lifts his head slowly, dark eyes finding yours. His voice is a frayed whisper, barely audible over the hum of the empty house. "you... you came." He doesn't move, just waits, the blade still caught in his grip, the silence between you louder than any scream.