Miserable

Outraged, he threw his cell phone on his bed, making it bounce a few times. He knew that the young woman had very crazy ideas, but that one contained too much imagination to be true. How could he fall in love with someone as annoying as Nathaniel Moonchild? That would be more of a torture than an affair. And he was completely sure of that. Maybe he didn't know him too well, but everything he knew about him was enough to say that he was terrible for love. Although it was true that there was a small group of girls who were after the silver haired guy and hoped that he would ever notice them.

Sebastian, instead, he laughed at the girls' attitude. "They don't really know what kind of person he is".

However, the image of the boy remained in his mind. The image of the person he detested the most in the world and who, probably, detested him back. And he didn't blame him, he could be hell himself when he put his mind to it. A part of him hated himself for it; the other, on the other hand, enjoyed making the boy suffer with this peculiar characteristic. Again, becoming the worst person to ever walk the earth.

He stared at the ground for a few moments until he came back to reality. He shook his head to clear all his thoughts and dragged his body to the individual bathroom in his own room. He closed the door without needing to put the key on, since nobody entered his room without his permission. Slowly he took off his uniform to throw it on top of a basket with more dirty clothes inside it. He prepared his tub of hot water to relax. He poured soap to create bubbles and lit a few scented candles.

Sebastian entered the tub, leaning back until the water covered much part of his body. He closed his eyes and sighed. The scent of the candles reminded him of his childhood, when, at the young age of four, his mother took care of his hygiene. Back then he was afraid of the steam that was created by hot water. Not seeing anything due to the fog was something that terrified him to the point of crying and refusing to enter into the bathroom. On the other hand, he remembered the tender way his mother tried to calm him down: she stroked his black hair while hugging him, he being the one who hid his face in the woman's chest. His mother whispered that everything was fine, that, ss long as she was there, nothing bad would happen to him. However, that did not alleviate his anguish caused by bathing, and that's when her mother started lighting scented candles in the bathroom so that the light emanating from these would keep him entertained and the smell would calm him to a certain point where he began to fall asleep.

Of course, when he grew up, that fear was overcome, but remembering that stage he had passed through brought back the anguish of the moment. Therefore, he kept lighting scented candles to find peace in his soul. Just like his mother had done in his childhood.

"How much I wish you were here, mom", he thought starting to clean his hair.

The self-hatred returned when no tears were shed at the thought of the woman who gave birth to him. Because, since ten years had passed, he had become used to the absence of his mother in his life. Another fear that, like the steam, he had overcome with the time. Although he sometimes wished his mother were with him, he knew it was just a sad longing that would never come true. Or, maybe, not at that time.

Even if all his willpower was focused on that wish, he knew they were just false hopes in something that was impossible.

He dipped his head until the water was under his eyes. He could feel his nose starting to itch from the soaps in the water. He hugged his body, stroking the soft skin of his arms to comfort himself. His body soon took a fetal position still inside the tub.

For a moment, he had forgotten what happened that day at school. His hatred for the silver-haired man was gone, the fight with his best friend had stopped haunting his mind. Now it was just him –or what Sebastian had defined as his person– and the world that he had created in his mind to feel safe.

"Maybe I really deserve to die after all".

He did not know how much time had passed exactly, but it was enough to leave his skin wrinkled from being so long in the water. Already tired of his mind continuing to torture him with frequent thoughts and wishes far from being fulfilled, without encouragement he continued with his bath. He was staring at some fixed point in the tub, barely aware of what he was doing.

The bathroom could definitely be a good –although it was not always a positive thing– place to think. And Sebastian knew it better than anyone.

When he "finished" with his bath –because that word was too much for what he had really done–, he dried his body with a white towel, going to his room to put on his pajamas. It was 12:25, but he thought it was a good time to go to sleep, not caring a bit about the million things he had planned for that afternoon minutes before.

He also did not plan to eat; he wasn't hungry even when he barely had a bite that day. He felt like, if he ate any food, his own body would automatically reject it and, just thinking about it made him sick.

Therefore, he simply crawled under the heavy sheets of his bed, settling into the perfect sleeping position.

And Sebastian just hoped he could get back the hours of sleep that his insomnia had stolen from him the night before.