He wouldn’t cry. Boy didn’t cry. But he was mad, infuriated. And terribly sad. So he went to the kitchen, without saying a word, and broke a beer glass bottle at his chest. It hurt, but it didn’t hurt more than what Elizabeth had told him. Edward felt like collapsing, but he wouldn’t give her the pleasure. Not going to the hospital either, needles scared him to death. Now that Elizabeth Midford wasn’t his sister anymore, nothing mattered. So it was fine if he died.

So done with this. That relationship, Edward didn’t want to live to see it. Or rather, he was more fond of making drama and injuring himself terribly just so she would see what her and Ciel were doing to him psychologically. It was much worse. His body felt heavier. Hang in there.