Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Razor's Edge ❯ Razor's Edge ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or any of its characters or merchandise. I am not making any money off of this fanfic.

Warning: POV, self mutilation, angst

I stand here, nude, in front of my mirror, staring at myself. What’s wrong with me that he doesn’t love me? I love him with all my heart, do my best to show it…and he runs off with someone else.

My breasts are round, my body slim. My nipples are perfect for sucking. Could it be something that I’m not seeing? Something that he and everyone else sees but I cannot? It isn’t fair, no, it isn’t right that I should find my one true love and have to stand by while he makes love to someone other than me. I am Relena Peacecraft! I was once Queen of the Sanq Kingdom. I am, even still, an important member of society and government. I have all the money that I could ever want. And, yet…I am not happy.

Heero Yuy is the only man that didn’t care what position I held. He’s the only one that I loved. Still love. I hate to watch him walk around with someone else. Holding their hand. Acting like a submissive bitch dog. He’s supposed to be strong! He’s supposed to be mine!

I stare at the razor in my hand. It’s a loose razor, not in a shaver. It’s cold, clean looks attracted me to it, it’s sharper than sharp edge. I smile softly and put it to my stomach and slice. Not too deep…but enough to make me bleed for a bit. I throw my head back and smile as I cry out in pleasure, as if his hands were caressing me instead of the razor’s edge. I cut again, and again, until there are five different marks on my stomach, then I move to put just one on my arm. Not on my wrist, but my arm, crossways. My aim is not to kill myself. My purpose is to bleed out the emotional pain that I feel.

And it works. With every drop of blood that slides down my arm or my stomach and on down, I feel as if all the mental pain and anguish that I’ve felt for days is, at least temporarily, leaking out of my body along with my blood. Soon enough, though, I have to make certain that I don’t leave any traces of what I’ve done.

I use paper towels to mop up the blood from my body, blood that I never allowed to flow long enough on its own to reach the floor, and daub the wounds until they’re dry enough, for the moment, to allow me a few seconds to get some bandages and bandage up the wounds. I get dressed after this is done and I’m certain there is no trace of blood on me. The razor is cleaned of blood via the sink’s tap and then I get rid of it. I have more where that one came from, anyway.