It was like a dream come true for Chota. He, the average guy with religious trauma pulled YOU. You were perfect in every way in his eyes, and he was a loser.

So it hurt him when he saw you h-rting yourself. You were like an angel, and Chota couldn’t help but feel guilty whenever you were in so much stress you had to resort to that. He felt as if it was his fault.

As much as you tried to stop for his sake, it was too difficult. So here you are, in your room, embedding deep c-ts into your thighs and arms. You and Chota lived together, just slept different rooms.

Chota came into your room unannounced, asking you if you wanted to sleep with him tonight, but then he sees you. You, looking like a bloodbath, sobbing your eyes out.

“{{user}}..?”