⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️

This chapter contains content that may be triggering to some readers

Nothing too explicit, more subtle, but still

anyways enjoy 

Fucking dammit, Samiyah.

Right now, it's the only thing on my mind. I've been standing in the shower longer than I'd like to admit, dragging a soapy loofa over my skin with too much force. I've probably scrubbed off more layers than I should. Doesn't matter. Not right now.

She left. She really left. None of us know where she is, whether she made it to her destination or not, or if she's on her way back yet. I know I should trust her. She's smart, capable, and independent. If anyone can accomplish something like this, it's her. She's not even alone, either. She's got Amani, her sister. If anything, I should be relaxed—like it's just another Tuesday—confident she can handle whatever comes her way. But I can't. Because she didn't just leave. Oh no, she did more than that.

Samiyah and Amani set out to travel through Writer's brain, searching for their memories—something we never even knew was possible. And for all we know, it isn't. With no way to communicate, anything could have happened to them, and we'd never know.

And on top of everything else? She left me in charge. ME. I get that I'm next in line, but that doesn't make me the right choice. I build sets. I chop wood. I make more kandi than I know what to do with. That's what I'm good at. Not leading. Not being everyone's new go-to for venting. That was Samiyah's role—I should know, I leaned on her too. And now she's gone, and I'm trying, but these shoes are way too big for me to fill. Maybe it's selfish, but I don't care. I never asked for this.

I let my hands drop to my sides, still clutching the sudsy loofa. Warm water pounds against my skin, streaming down my back and dripping from my lashes. God, there truly is no other feeling quite like this one.

If I don't hurry up, though, my very German mother will come in and tell me I'm wasting water. Mutti, I know, but I need to have my sad boi hours. And yes, I do mean literal hours.

So I rinse off the last of the soap, turn off the faucet, and pull back the shower curtain. The cold air hits me like air conditioning on full blast. I can take it, though, I'm German.

As I towel off, my reflection stares back from the fogged-up mirror. I swipe away the condensation, revealing damp hair—roots grown out, bright blue faded to a dull, grayish shade. Normally, that'd be my cue to grab some dye, maybe even switch colors. My hair's short. Wouldn't take long. I've done it so many times, I could probably do it in my sleep. I consider this.

Nah. Right now, I just don't have the energy. And with that, I finish drying myself and slip on a pair of shorts and T-shirt.

When I went from the bathroom to my bedroom, my intention was to flop onto my bed like the overdramatic, stressy, messy, and depressy little queer boy that I am. My body, however, had other plans. When I let it go limp, it made the executive decision to instead bounce off the corner of my bed and fall to the floor.

"Scheiße," I let out a shout as I hit the ground. Fuck, I can't deal with this today.

"Lexi!" I hear my mother's stern voice from downstairs. Guess she heard me. "Nicht so laut, du Brüllaffe! Du bist doch nicht auf dem Marktplatz! Willst du durchs ganze Viertel schreien?"

Gotta love how her issue is with my volume rather than language.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Ma," I respond. The universe has not been kind to me as of late. Maybe it's actually Writer that's making me suffer. Either way, fuck the both of them or whoever it is causing this.

I manage to drag myself onto the bed and bury myself in my dozens of pillows. I take a deep breath and let it out with a big sigh, as if that was the hardest thing I've ever done.

Lying here alone, reality sinks its teeth in. My stomach twists, my skin prickles. For one horrifying second, I wonder if it's the same sensation as before—the feeling I had just before I started flaking away like dust. I shake the thought off, try to blame it on anxiety, but the feeling lingers. My hand disappears under the blanket, fumbling in my bedside drawer until my fingers close around something familiar.

I roll out of bed, trudging back to the bathroom, flicking on the light and closing the door behind me. I hold up my hand, uncurling my fingers and revealing the item I'd previously grabbed.

A box cutter.

I twist it in my hand, studying it like it's something unfamiliar—though it isn't. My gaze drifts from the closed blade to my bare skin. Warm. Soft. Light caramel. I could darken it, turn it into something else. It wouldn't take long. I've done it before. I consider it.

No. I can't. I won't.

I toss the box cutter into the nearest drawer and walk back, flopping onto the bed again. My previous thoughts return.

Fucking dammit, Samiyah. 

what is good I am back with yet another shorter chapter, idgaf I worked hard on this

only 874 words but thats ok

it was my friend's bday recently and Lex is his favorite so even tho he hasn't read any other chapters he's gonna read this one, enjoy neeks 

its like a belated bday present

go follow him: Muddys_Pawzz

so yeah uh 

I did just write this, and no I did not address the cliffhanger from last chapter, suck it up im tired ✨ 

Lex is so babygirl and slay so like writing from his perspective was fun cuz I got to swear a lot and put German and be snarky and sarcastic mwahhahahahahahah 

finished rather early, kinda ironic cuz I thought I'd need to take an extra week for this lol

I'm proud of this and thats all I care about rn so goodbye 

ilysm lovelies <333333

hope u enjoyed

I will now retreat back into my cave and become hermit once more

bai :>

-JJZ