if u wanna read it its under the cut (tw for mentions of suicide,the usual)

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It feels like everything has stopped. Moritz’s life has skidded to a screeching halt after – after what happened and now it’s like he’s trapped in some sort of fucking bubble and he can’t exactly leave. He can’t, really, not with his horrible way of coping with his shit or how Melchior has been… hovering. Maybe not hovering, really, but Moritz’s life has been one instance after another of people not caring; when someone does, it’s – startling, almost, and he can’t shake the feeling (the truth) that Melchior has really only started doing this out of pity. To keep Moritz from turning back to the gun, or to a length of rope, or something.

Yeah. Pity.

Moritz turns back to the window to watch the rain, eyes following how the water rakes down the glass before pressing his ear against it to listen to the sound. Melchior is watching him from his place on his bed (lately Moritz has only been with Melchior – in his house, in his bed, just somewhere that is not his home, because his home is not safe – he feels the tension on a normal day and the thought of telling his father he tried to—).

Moritz begins to shake. He moves away from the window to join Melchior on the bed. They sit together in silence, and in this moment, Moritz wished more than anything that he had pulled the trigger sooner.