Not a couple
Dedicated to RobRae_TT for giving me a darker prompt.
(Just a warning, this one is a little graphic and may trigger some people.)

It was red. Dark red. Pooling around her in such a beautiful way. The pale skin contrasted with the crimson. She loved it.

Maybe she was crazy. She didn't care. It felt so good. It felt right. She needed this. All of it. The pain, the blood.

Her wrist was covered in the angry marks. A testament to how much she hated herself.

What could she say? She deserved this sinful pain. She was a disgrace to humanity. After all, she was only created as a pawn. She had no real purpose.

So, what did it matter if she did this? It's not like her body was going to be used for anything good. Everyday, she came closer and closer to the edge, slowly getting ready for her final act.

The blade danced on her skin, ribbons of red appearing on the ashen wrists. It was a ballerina, her skin, the stage.

She grit her teeth together as the ballerina performed another dance, this time drawing more blood than before.

The blade bowed, although no applause was heard. The only sound was her heavy breathing.

She stood up, performing her own routine. The pirouette to the bathroom, her arms gracefully extending towards the mirror. The ribbons rubbing off onto the glass, transferring its beauty.

But there was always a grand finale. This one mesmerizing. Her hands met the stained glass hard, shards falling like rain drops. Dangerous rain drops. The sink was covered in the crimson beauty. The floor had its clear roses strewn about at her feet.

She bows this time, ready for her final act. She fills the bath tub with water, it's trickling? Her music. She doesn't bother removing her clothes. Her outfit will be soiled either way.

Her bare feet hit the warm water, the rest of her body following suit. Her little dancer finds it's way onto the stage, doing a tap dance down her wrist. This time doing a vertical slide. The hard shoes hurt the stage, but the dancer continues, leaping onto the other side of the stage, doing the same dance.

This dance is repeated again and again until the familiar scarlet ribbons spread underneath the water, completing the performance.

There is no encore for this dance, it would ruin the pure majesty of it. Instead, the dancer jumps off its stage, diving deep into the water. This is the final act. The end of the stage. The end of the dancer's career.

She lets the familiar scent of her blood overwhelm her, laying her head back against the tub.

Her eyes begin to close, a sensation of calm washing over her body.

So close....to the edge.....

She feels numb, no longer able to distinguish pain from pleasure.

She is so close to dying.

But then she hears his voice. His questioning outside of the room.

No. No, go away, you'll ruin it.

But she can't tell him to leave, no noise comes out of her mouth. Maybe he'll be too late. Surely he will.

But no. She faintly hears the door slide open, revealing him.

He is staring down at her, eyes wide beneath the mask. She is staring up at him, body unmoving.

She knows she's failing. He's going to bring her back. Back to the pain.

She watches him turn off the water and grab a towel. One second later, he is picking her limp body up, cradling her in his arms, wiping off her face.

She starts to feel again, his voice becoming painfully clear.

"Raven! Raven, don't go to sleep, please!"

She reaches a bloody hand up to touch his cheek.

"Sleep.....I want to......forever...."

He grits his teeth, taking her hand and squeezing it. She flinches, letting him know she can hear and feel him.

He is running with her out of the room. She feels her wrists begin to burn as she is brought back to life.

Her eyes close for what she thinks is a few seconds. When they open, she is attached to wires and machines, her damaged wrists covered in bandages.

He is sitting beside her, staring at the monitors fiercely. She clears her throat softly, watching his head turn to look at her.

He touches her shoulder, his voice broken, scared.

"You nearly died. I was almost too late.......God, Raven, why?"

She takes in a deep breath, feeling highly sedated. Probably his doing.

She lays her head down against the medical bed's pillow, refusing to answer.

She wants to leave. Leave her body. But he was stopping her. He was watching her every move.

"To think I almost lost you. Raven, I can't stand to see you this hopeless."

She found herself staring up at the ceiling, her voice betraying her mind.

"Then let me go back to being numb."

He cupped his hand around his mouth, trying not to burst.

"I can't do that, Rae. You mean too much to me."

She felt a tear make its way down her face. Now she was crying, because of him. All she had wanted was too let go and be free. He was trapping her.

There was nothing she could do now. So, Raven cursed her stage and her dancer for failing her, shutting her eyes once again, but not forever.