***COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT, AND GIVE ME IDEAS, IF YOU DO WANT MORE! I JUST MIGHT DO A FEW FOR FUN!
TW: physical abuse, mental illness, and implications/mentions of sex
She had scars along her body, lines making triangles and circles from her neck to her legs.
It wasn't always like that...her body anyway.
She had smooth skin all the way until the end of her teenage years. She was seventeen.
During the war, she had met the end of a knife, and she wasn't the one holding it. They heard the sound of her screams but they just laughed, they heard the sounds of her cries but they just looked on, they heard the whimpers of the aftermath but they walked right past her, like she was scum, and to them, she was.
It's been three years, and she hasn't heard of any of them, not even him, who wasn't even there that day. There hasn't been a day where she doesn't scratch herself, and blood meets her fingers, but she's slowly learning to accept it as a part of her. It's not that she can get rid of them anyway (she can).
Three years after the event, she finds herself in London, long sleeves covering her arms but shorts exposing the long scar from her thigh to her calf, she feels the stares as she openly sits at a cafe and reads, her sun glasses on her face, block out the sympathetic faces and judgmental voices in her head. Sometimes, they're still there when she leaves.
That's when he comes in, black suit and all, he stares at her, she blocks him out until his foot brush her legs, she closes her eyes. The voices grow louder. He takes off her glasses then and forces her to look at him, and she does. She hesitates when they meet, the eyes, she can never forget his eyes.
Her lip trembles, and her fingers grasp at the pages she has in between her fingers. Her lips are bitten raw. He looks at her, he has a blank stare but it's not full of hatred like the last time she saw him. He let's go of her glasses then, putting them on her head. He sits down, his feet brushing her legs for the second time. She doesn't say anything, and neither does he.
He became her friend then. She didn't have many after the war.
Three years ago, she left the wizarding world behind, which included her friends and her memories. She's only ever spoken to them on holiday's but never in person.
She loathes emptiness, and there are times she regrets leaving. She lives in an empty house, filled with whispers that talk to her in her head.
But then he came and filled the emptiness and let her talk. The voices eventually went away.
They were friends first, he was her only friend after so long, and in turn, so was she to him. Shunned from the wizarding world, he became an enigma, roaming the world until his feet eventually landed.
They landed in a cafe in London, where he saw a girl from his past, scars along her legs and glasses, covering the looks that people pointed her way. He, in turn, blocked her view of the world, of the stares, and he hasn't left her side since.
They turned to lovers later, kisses shared in the darkness of his flat, hands on hips as she hugged him, shaking as she woke up from nightmares of screams and chandeliers above the ceiling.
His hands hover over her body, asking a silent question, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, listening, he takes her shirt off, and she can't help but cover her body as his eyes hover on the long scar along her stomach, he says nothing but takes her hands from her body, and kisses them then he kisses her stomach all over until he eventually goes down and— down and down.
She allows him to cherish her, his head in between her thighs and her hands pulling on his hair. He teaches her that there are different kinds of screams that she can think of instead.
She allows him to see the ugliest parts of her, physically and mentally, she slowly allows him to go inside her mind and begins to open herself up with him. He gladly accepts her flaws as does she, she begins to smile more and, in turn, allows herself to overcome her trauma. She begins to contact her friends more, which leads to seeing them after years. She looks for her parents after years of putting dirt on her happy memories, slowly digging them back up.
She becomes whole again, after meeting him, brighter, and he tells her so.
She allowed him to see her most ugliest parts, but instead of looking away, he dove right in. They were never ugly to begin with, and he tells her.
