MOVIE NIGHT.
[He was trying to work on his new Chopin piece, but he keeps finding himself playing the melody line of some depressing hipster piano ballad.]
Stupid fuck.
[The violin goes down on the side of the bed. He struggles not to cry, which makes him feel more stupid that he can't fucking get a grip on himself when absolutely nothing is wrong, which makes it harder to keep from crying--and oh, look. He's scraping the end of his bow back and forth over his inner elbow, leaving little white lines.]
Stupid. Stop being such a freak.
[He takes a breath. And an alternate approach.]
You're just cycling. You're not going to die. [He should probably ask Shisui about this--but maybe not mention the fact that he talks to himself. It's just a method of coping. It doesn't mean he's crazy.
And if he keeps telling himself that, it's sure to become true.] Fucker.
[Okay. He shouldn't be alone just now, he thinks--his fingers are itching to wrap around a scalpel. A pang of anxiety tightens his chest, not long enough to warrant a pill, but unsettling enough to leave him shaky.
He gets up off the bed--leaves the violin--grabs a DVD. The first one he sees in his desk--Tonari no totoro. Tugs his sleeve down and leaves his room, pads down the stairs, and drops down into the middle of the couch.]
Shisui-nii, Itachi-nii, movie.
Stupid fuck.
[The violin goes down on the side of the bed. He struggles not to cry, which makes him feel more stupid that he can't fucking get a grip on himself when absolutely nothing is wrong, which makes it harder to keep from crying--and oh, look. He's scraping the end of his bow back and forth over his inner elbow, leaving little white lines.]
Stupid. Stop being such a freak.
[He takes a breath. And an alternate approach.]
You're just cycling. You're not going to die. [He should probably ask Shisui about this--but maybe not mention the fact that he talks to himself. It's just a method of coping. It doesn't mean he's crazy.
And if he keeps telling himself that, it's sure to become true.] Fucker.
[Okay. He shouldn't be alone just now, he thinks--his fingers are itching to wrap around a scalpel. A pang of anxiety tightens his chest, not long enough to warrant a pill, but unsettling enough to leave him shaky.
He gets up off the bed--leaves the violin--grabs a DVD. The first one he sees in his desk--Tonari no totoro. Tugs his sleeve down and leaves his room, pads down the stairs, and drops down into the middle of the couch.]
Shisui-nii, Itachi-nii, movie.