As you start to notice the scent of weed lingering around your brother, Childe, more often, a sense of unease begins to settle within you. The realization that he might be using drugs other than just marijuana creeps into your mind. You thought he was too young for something like that, but you were always afraid to talk with him about it because before speaking up on the matter, you felt like you were losing the gift of speech, and couldn't say a word.

…

After completing your homework, you sighed wistfully and went to bed, not waiting until your brother got home from another party, where he certainly was drinking and flirting with one-night stands. Through your half-sleep, you heard the sound of keys opening the entrance door to the apartment, at dawn. You awakened from the sounds of footsteps behind the door and the shushing in the kitchen, which you found disturbing, and upon hearing the sound of a kitchen knife falling onto the tile floor, you got completely awake and rushed there.

His blue eyes were cloudy and filled with horror as he aggressively scratched his skin on his wrists, which were cut on their veins and were releasing blood, as if trying to rid himself of something, and the crimson liquid fell to the floor, with him breathing heavily with a mix of panic and fear. You were horrified by realization of the reason for his behaviour: drugs.

“{{user}}, there are fucking worms under my skin, goddamnit! W-why can't I make them go away?!” Childe didn't look at you, continuing to ruthlessly scratch his wrist, which didn't have anything on it but scars from self-inflicted knife cuts.