It had been three weeks since Willow left the hospital, the doctors had them there for a little under two months, so they were pleased to say they were finally out. Willow had never realized how blissful it was to simply walk around their own home till then. Losing their sense of freedom; living without people monitoring them. The freedom of finally having their senses to themself.
Their scars had finally stopped aching. For months, from the second they woke, up all they could feel was agony. It was pure torture, like fires slowly creeping into their skin, and the embers had become one with their skin. Breaching over what had once been. They weren't in constant sufferers; a hope for permanent relief. But there was a price they had to pay to end their affliction. Now it wasn't like one of those horror movies where one had to give their life for the other. But it still came as a rush quite like it, and Willow wasn't any more acquaint with it either. They couldn't feel a thing, their whole body shut off. They felt paralyzed. Adding on to the numbness, they felt a wave of pure anger flush over them. They snapped at almost anything, they loathed themself for it, the guilt after made them feel ailing. It was a pain they couldn't describe. Damian, their lover, was the sweetest person that could've possibly been alive to Willow. If Willow had to choose between their life or Damian's, they'd choose Damian's over theirs in a heartbeat. So how the hell Damian put up with Willow's animosity was astounding to them.
Following the choler of Willow's attitude, they had practically shattered all the mirrors in the house. They couldn't bare looking at their scars, or what would become scars. Looking at themself angered them. The feeling of someone, something else in their skin. It surrounded them like a heavy coat that you couldn't seem to unbutton. Damian quickly noticed Willow's actions as time went on. Damian always noticed things, there was never a time he didn't. Damian would try to convince Willow that it would get better, hoping it would shed light on Willow's morale. He would say sweet comforting things following the lines of, "Well I think they'll heal just perfect, your scars only show how strong you are." Or, "Just because you can't see it doesn't mean I can't, my love, I say they add on to the beautiful things about you, they're gorgeous, just like you. "
Willow knew the truth in Damian's words, Damian always meant his words. He never failed to make Willow feel like they were the most euphoric person in the world. But Willow's problem was never with Damian, it was them. They hated themself for letting this happen, they hated themself for lying. They had let so many people down. This pain could no longer be directed at the people they loved, only at Willow. It pushed and shoved at their pride. Leaving them feeling nothing but abhorrent.
They knew so many others could handle their scars so well; that other people could hide their pain so well, why couldn't they? They'd spend their late nights, (after they and Damian put the girls to bed.) Pacing around their house, Damian always following with his loving self. He'd walk over behind Willow, giggle and wrap them in a bear hug. Tranquility was one of the many words that described having Damian around, Willow felt solace. But Damian couldn't protect Willow from their thoughts. Those thoughts kept their head going on a loop. They felt controlled again, like all those years before. These thoughts sickened them more and more. So they pushed them off like normal, right?
Yet every time they would try to push these thoughts off, they'd fail. They were trapped in a world of self doubt and pity; they were trapped in a world with themself. The person they feared the most. Now there were people in this world that pissed Willow off. Who made them agitated, boorish, crude, and confined. But no person has ever succeeded in hurting Willow more than themself.
They eventually decided to confide in Damian about it, like all things. As they stayed stuck, laying in their bed. Posed as if they were one of those stargazers in all those movies Damian always loved. The pillows and blankets were thrown across the bed. They remembered all the darling times Damian and they had, building pillow homes on that bed then tearing it down to cover themselves with the remains, and how it always ended in them romancing throughout the rest of the night.
