Chapter 97: Is he Bipolar?
Alaric
"It’s not the same. I just said that to get on your nerves," he laughed, running a hand through his hair, his fingers slick with his own sweat. "You didn’t really think that I would let you go after all, Alaric. You are mine!"
He declared it with a possessiveness that sent a violent chill straight through my body. He made it sound like a promise and a threat all at once, and I couldn’t help but be afraid of what he could do to me.
"Which is why," Nico whispered, his eyes narrowing, "your answer will determine whether I slit my throat right now."
"What the hell?! Are you insane?"
Nico’s laughter grew even louder, echoing darkly against the crashing waves.
"Yes! I have gone insane for you, Alaric! I can’t afford to lose everyone else, but not you."
"This is ridiculous," I breathed, my voice shaking as I tried to ground him. "We are nothing, and yet you make it seem like we are lovers."
He merely grinned in response, pressing the glass harder against his neck until I could see dark blood trailing down it.
Nico was truly crazy.
No one in their right mind would slit their own wrist and then try to slit their throat right in front of their rival.
"Listen, you are bleeding," I said, forcing my voice to drop into a placating tone as I stepped closer. "You need to go treat yourself now before you bleed to death."
"Not the first time," he said amusingly, but beneath the dark humor, I could see a profound, heavy sadness on his face.
A cold dread settled in my stomach.
What the hell had hurt him to this extent in his past? What had broken him so badly that it made him think of hurting himself like this?
"So tell me, Alaric," he whispered, the glass still biting into his neck. "Will you leave me too?"
I groaned out loud, running a hand through my hair in absolute desperation.
This situation was crazy.
I was dealing with a maniac who didn’t care if he hurt himself as long as he got what he wanted, and because he looked like he was definitely not joking, the best thing to do was to lie. At least it would ensure he got some serious help and didn’t hurt himself anymore tonight.
"No, Nico. I am not going to leave you," I said, making sure my voice sounded steady.
I wasn’t even entirely sure if I was lying at that moment, but I had said it out of a strange curiosity that made it seem as though I was telling the absolute truth.
That was enough to change Nico’s mind.
The manic tension vanished from his shoulders, and he slowly lowered the glass, letting it drop to the deck. Standing up unsteadily, he stepped forward and hugged me tightly.
"Thank you, Alaric, for saying that," he breathed against my shoulder. "I had to hear it from you. And also, don’t ever try to hurt yourself like you did."
I slowly pulled him away, shaking my head as our eyes met.
The irony of his words made my head spin.
"You got it all wrong, Nico. I wasn’t trying to hurt myself. I was just going in for a swim."
I lied again, trying to salvage whatever armor I had left, but Nico just stared at me for a quiet moment before letting out a dark scoff.
"That’s what they always say," he muttered bitterly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "And before you know it, they did, and you are all left alone."
Left alone.
The words hung heavily between us.
Who was he talking about?
Had he lost someone close to him for him to act like this? Had he watched someone walk into the dark and leave him behind?
Before he could spiral further, I grabbed his injured hand gently.
I gasped softly because the cut was really deep, yawning wide against his skin. But Nico didn’t wince—not even once—acting like it was just a minor scratch instead of a major injury.
"We need to treat this, and then we can talk about the livestream later," I told him, keeping my voice firm as I began to lead him away from the shattered glass.
He said nothing in return.
He just stared at me like an obedient dog, following my lead without a single shred of his usual fight.
I couldn’t help but marvel at the absolute whiplash of his character, wondering how it was so easy for him to switch moods that fast.
Was he truly bipolar?
"Should I call for assistance?" I asked him, my voice tight as I looked at the dark blood staining his arm.
"No," he responded immediately, his tone sharp and leaving no room for argument. "Just take me to my room."
"Your... room?" I stammered.
I hated myself for stuttering in front of him, but the mere thought of being entirely alone behind closed doors with someone this crazy was enough to send my heart racing.
A cold dread coiled tight in my chest. He was completely unpredictable, and I genuinely feared what he might do if the darkness took over him again.
Nico must have noticed the subtle tremor in my hands because he turned his head toward me, a soft, tired chuckle escaping his lips.
"I could never hurt you, Alaric. Never. So don’t be afraid of me. Besides, we wouldn’t want to call any unwanted attention to ourselves. I mean, look at the situation we’re in."
"You did this to yourself, you crazy man!" I yelled at him, my frustration boiling over as I gestured at his bleeding wrist.
Instead of snapping back, he just let out another quiet, amused chuckle.
I stared at him for a second as the unsettling speed of his mood swings made my skin crawl.
It was a terrifying realization, but watching him shift from a suicidal manic state to this calm, teasing person in a matter of seconds made me realize that he truly might be bipolar.
