Bleed Just to Know You're Alive
Chapter 1: Bleed Just to Know You're Alive.
Between his sister, his parents, and now Kyrie, Nero's world is crashing down around him and it just doesn't feel real. Like the song says, "when everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you're alive." But what happens when an ambitious young Dante finds out about Nero's unstable behavior? AU! DxN
Nero x Dante and vice versa, if you're not into that, don't read it. Language. Cutting. Character death. Attempted suicide.
I love Dante and Nero together so I can never help but to make them a couple. Also this is my first published character death and attempted suicide. Tell me how I do with it. Oh, and this piece was inspired by the song "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here but the story and an OC or two! (that includes the song!)
And on that note, enjoy!
To be honest, the jock wasn't really known for his philanthropy. If anything, the eleventh grade quarterback was known for his astounding natural talent with a football. He was the most popular guy at Capulet High School with the male population for that reason. And with his shinning white smile, his gorgeous silvery white hair, those enticing icy blue eyes, and his flawless marble pale skin, he could win over any girl he wanted.
However, Dante Alighieri and his identical mathlete twin, Vergil, weren't the only two at the school with that color set. Nero Angelo, a tenth grader had the same white hair and fair skin but his eyes were a darker blue, azure and almost oceanic. But he was in a totally different caste. Dante was popular, Vergil was nerdy, and Nero was skater bordering on emo. Well, more than bordering as Dante was finding out. Now like I said before: Dante wasn't known for his philanthropy. Yet here he found himself helping out some poor cry for help of a punk bitch student.
But this confrontation wasn't exactly intended. You see, while Dante and Nero were on complete opposite ends of the social spectrum, there's always one place in any school where all walks of life emerge: classes.
Nero and Dante had been in the same chemistry class since the beginning of the year and had been lab partners for the same amount of time, which, while both reluctant at first, brought the teenage boys surprisingly close.
"Dante, you'd say we're friends, right?" Nero leaned over to his lab partner and whispered. The two were both fairly good at chemistry and thus worked fairly quickly which usually left them time at the end of class to talk.
"Yeah, absolutely." the junior whispered back, nodding his response.
"And you seem pretty smooth with the ladies . . ." the sophomore continued cautiously.
"Please never say that again, but yes, I like to think of myself as such." Dante responded calmly.
"Can I ask you for some advice?" Nero whispered.
"Sure I guess."
"So you know Kyrie?" the sophomore approached generally.
Dante had often noticed the auburn haired cheerleader at practices. The beautiful young girl had light brown eyes, and milky skin. She wore the slightly revealing white cheer uniform well. However, the sophomore seemed a little reserved for Dante's taste, she seemed like a bit of an ice queen, so that was all Dante'd done, noticed her. "I've seen her around." he responded casually.
"I live for that girl," the teen exaggerated, "How do I get her attention?"
"Ask her out?" Dante retorted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
That was at about 1:00 that afternoon.
At about 3:00, Kyrie had cheer practice so Nero decided to go and take Dante's advice. After the girls were finished cheering he approached the huddle.
"Hey, Nemo, I mean Emo, I mean Nero!" Called Trish, tripping over her words more than she ever would her own two feet. "Sorry!"
He shrugged it off politely. He could tell it was by accident, there was too much apology in her voice for the comment to have been malicious. And besides, she wasn't wrong. He cut. He wore his hair straight and at an average length. His wardrobe consisted of a band t-shirt from Skillet or We the King, Three Doors Down or Thirty Seconds to Mars, something of the nature; a pair of black, navy, or grey skinny jeans; and always the same tattered and torn and color worn thin black sweat shirt that was way too big for him. By any stereotype or prejudice Nero was emo, but what defined that most of all was that he cut. But he didn't really mind when people pointed it out. He was almost proud of it. When someone pointed it out, they noticed. It was a way to remind people that he had problems and didn't want to deal with their crap. In a way it was a warning, but to those who cared about him, it was a serious issue. Kyrie was one of those people.
"Nero!" the auburn called throwing her arms open and running into him for maximum hug.
He toppled back a bit from the sudden embrace, but at the same time was completely expecting it.
"Hey Kyrie." he commented still trying to shake the semi-shock of the impact.
"What're you doing here?" the cheerleader bounced clearly still hyper from practice.
"I came to ask you something. Actually," Nero rubbed his nose a little, a nervous habit he'd unintentionally formed when he was flustered or embarrassed, leaving the 'actually' lingering between thoughts, "I was wondering if you'd go out with me on Friday? Like on a date?" he asked hopefully. He held his breath. This could go one of two ways: she could have the same feelings for him as he had for her and they could be together or, considering how long they'd known each other, she could see him more as a brother then a boyfriend and reject him entirely in the nicest way possible. Judging by the pained look on her face, it would be the latter.
"Nero, you know I love you. And we've been really close for a long time," she began hesitantly. Here it was. Here was the but; there was always a but. Here's where she rejected him. "But, I've known you since we were five. You're as close to me as Credo. Do you have any idea how weird it would feel for me to be dating someone I consider my brother? You're a great guy Nero, so please don't take this the wrong way but, I think I'm not the one for you."
The sixteen year old could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. They burned and his throat began to itch as he fought them from falling. "Yeah." he retorted calmly, trying desperately to maintain composure, "Yeah, no I totally get it." he assured falsely looking down at his feet in an attempt to hide his cracking facade. "That's cool. So . . . Right, I'll see you tomorrow." He said waving and turning to leave.
"M'kay, oh and Nero?" she grabbed his right wrist to keep him from leaving just yet, "Please, your wrist is just beginning to heal." she begged, inspecting the appendage she held. He tensed because he knew where this was going. "Don't cut."
He ripped his arm away, perhaps a little too forcefully. "Yeah, okay." he said hardly turning his head to face her. Then he turned back in the direction he was going, plunged his hand in his sweat shirt pocket and fingered the pocket knife he always carried with him. He didn't care about Kyrie's plea, this hurt. And cutting numbed that pain.
Just for the record, I read Dante's Inferno, I HATE Dante Alighieri! With a burning passion! So I hold Dante to a much higher standard. I was originally just going to call him Dante Sparda, as cliche as that is, but I had to keep Sparda alive and to have him be Sparda Sparda was a little awkward not to mention redundant so yeah. Poor Nero just got his heart stepped on. That's kinda scary, I hope he'll be okay. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please take the initiative to review now that you've read the horribly constructed first chapter.