Hello. Heh, i was feeling a little angsty so like, have some chapter of Walden suffering. I actually feel bad for this man help. I couldn't find a good photo of rf for this so just have a photo of a random cat 

This is include:

- Mentions of self-harm and blood
- Swearing
- literally just Angst, no comfort because I'm feeling silly

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- 3rd person POV -

Dull eyes stared at the blade, clenching his jaw as he wondered why he was even doing this. Was it because of Ophelia? Could he just not get over her passing? Was he just pushing everyone away every single time they tried to help? He didn't know. He felt helpless, pathetic, empty. But, how would his assistant or the others react if they saw their own boss in such a weak state? He was supposed to be this stern and tough man, not something so... weak and vulnerable. He longed to see her again, desperately hoping that he could hug her again and feel happy again. 

Those are just wishes. Things that would never come true. 

He reminded himself, the sharp tip pressed against his skin, moving it in a cutting motion. He observed the crimson liquid gush out of the deep wound. He didn't feel bad about this, in fact, it somehow soothed him. Tears were fell down from his eyes, hysterically sobbing. He hated this feeling so fucking much, despised feeling so fragile and so powerless.

Look at how pathetic you are.

It's your fault she died.

These thoughts only further spurred his urge to continue, creating slits that were most likely never to be able to be visible to anyone, due to his turtleneck and labcoat. His thoughts were scattered, the thought of someone finding out about this habit making his stomach churn, would they taunt and make fun of him for being a weakling?

His thoughts were cut off by his assistant knocking softly on the door, alerting him of their presence, "Boss? I finished the reports you wanted me to do, can I come in?" They asked, and he couldn't help but find their voice soft and comforting. He simply wanted to rant about his feelings and be allowed to cry without the depressing thoughts constantly nagging and belittling him. He cleared his throat, pulling himself out of his thoughts as he hurriedly tugged down the sleeves of his turtleneck and lab coat, wiping his eyes. If they asked why his eyes were red, he'd just say he got something in his eye or something like that. They'd believe him, right? He reassured himself they wouldn't find out the truth, taking a deep breath before acting like the stern and professional man he was known as. "Yes, you can come in." He finally replied, opening a drawer and carelessly tossing the small blade on there and closing it, glancing at his assistant as they walked into his office and set the papers down on his desk. He put on that recognizable and well-known stoic expression of his, not showing any emotion at all. "Thank you, assistant. You may leave now." He stated firmly, watching as they gave a nod and walked out of his office without hesitation.

Walden huffed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair in frustration. This fucking "tough boss" act was really putting a lot of stress on him, but he knew that was what everyone expected from him. He didn't expect anyone to discover this little coping mechanism of his anyways, so why try and talk to anyone? He shook his head, wanting to distract himself from these tiresome thoughts of his, so he sat back up, straightening his posture before focusing on the paperwork neatly stacked on his desk. He decided to go through the papers his assistant had just turned in, make sure they were all signed and done correctly, maybe this would draw away his focus on his mind.

END.

.... I have nothing to say if I'm being honest. I just felt like making RF suffer. It's like 1 am for me rn and I have therapy today but I don't wanna sleep... 

Bye, Z3R0.