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Cosmo had been feeling down lately. Sprout wasn't helping with that bright attitude either. It annoyed Cosmo. He wanted to die. Sprout just made it worse. He never wanted to admit it. But he had to face the music eventually. He hated himself, and sprout can't read the room. He resented him, he really wanted to be bright and cheery like usual, but he silently walked to his room to go to bed. It was late, he and Sprout were cleaning the kitchen. They barely talked, but Sprout moved diligently, humming a sweet tune that drove Cosmo mad. Sprout waved goodbye to cosmo as they went to their respective rooms but Cosmo coldly ignored the gesture. He slammed the door shut and sunk to the ground as a wave of dread washed over him, pulling his limbs to the wood below. He slumped over slightly, his arms to his sides, the back of his knuckles grazing against the splintery wood panels. He finally managed to stand, already sucking the air from his shallow lungs. Or at least they felt shallow, he registered it like no air was entering. Cause damn, it sure felt that way. He walked over to his mirror, examining his chubby form. He didn't like what he was seeing. Hell, did he ever? No. He never did. He always sobbed if he looked at his reflection for more than five minutes. His right eye twitched. His bottom lip quivered, his already shallow breaths becoming shaky. He ran a heavy hand through his icing waves on his head. He then began to slap his own face with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain helped ground him. He had an idea. A really unhealthy one. He knew it was a bad idea. He heard about Bernadette*. He knew it was a terrible idea. He knew he could never go back. He didn't care. Poor little cosmo just.. Wanted to feel again.
He was creeping through the hall to the kitchen. God, it's cold in gardenview. He finally arrived in the kitchen. Cosmo looked around for a second to make sure nobody was there. He then grabbed a steak knife, putting it in the pocket of his shorts and taking it with him. When Cosmo got back to his room, he just stared down at the knife in his quivering, sweaty hand. He looked in the mirror again. God, why did he take his hoodie off..? His tank top made him look even 'fatter'. He set the knife next to him on his bed, getting up and walking over to his mirror with pure rage and hate escaping through choked sobs. Cosmo curled his right hand into a fist and brought it behind his head. He quickly brought it forward, punching his mirror with such aggression that it shattered. The shards flew everywhere, getting ichor on them because they had cut Cosmo's knuckles slightly. He walked back to his bed, picking up the knife, his rage diluted slightly. He inhaled sharply, practically gasping for air as he brought the knife to his shaky left arm. He began to slowly press down, and once he broke skin, he pulled back towards him, leaving a clean, gruesome gash. He did so a couple more times.
Cosmo laid, staring coldly at the grey ceiling not too far above him. He looked at the glow in the dark stars he had hung with sprout. They barely glowed anymore. That was when they were children. They were no longer children. Such a pity, Cosmo ached to be a careless little kid again. To not count calories, to still cheer when he lost a tooth, to cry when he skinned his knee even just lightly. He felt tears welling in his already blurred eyes again. He just let them fall. He silently sobbed while the radio on his shelf played radiohead. He didn't select it, but was too tired to change the station. He clutched his hands together so hard, his left one grew numb. Cosmo liked doing this, pretending that hand was Sprouts. He held 'Sprouts' hand until he inevitably fell asleep.
Cosmo was woken up by his radio playing some obnoxious commercial, his alarm blaring, and panicked knocking on his door. He immediately silenced his alarm, and unplugged his radio. He had completely forgotten about his cuts and his mirror. Cosmo calmly walked to his door and opened it to a concerned, sweating Sprout, whose face immediately lit up when Cosmo finally answered.
"Cosm- Why is your mirror broken?" Sprout was about to ask if Cosmo wanted to bake, but the timing seemed a little wrong,"O-oh! i got a little mad.." Cosmo scratched his face with his left arm, forgetting the cuts were in complete view,"Cos..mo..can- can i come in please?.." Sprouts cheerful demeanor dropped as he glanced to Cosmos arm and then back at his face. "Yeah, of cou-" He realized the moment sprout pushed the door shut.
Cosmo's lip quivered, tears welled in his eyes. He collapsed onto sprout. Sobbing into his chest loudly. Sprout hugged him gently, rubbing circles into his back. Sprout shuffled them over to the bed and sad on the edge, Cosmo in his lap, still sobbing.
"Don't worry.. i'll be here.. your okay..your alright..hmmm.. hmm.." Sprout began humming a soft tune, rocking them back and forth gently, tracing soft circles into cosmos back as he began to cry himself.
It's gonna be okay. It's all gonna be okay.