Dangerously Close (Aris x Reader)

75) Stories

This contains a bunch of super disturbing stories in it. Some of them are kind of graphic. Also, as a heads up since I'm already writing this, nonsexual nudity (you'll get what I mean if you read it)

Scargirl.

Scargirl might be one of the meanest things ever said to me. Because there's no reason for it. There's no reason they had to be cruel. They weren't trying to catch me off guard to defend themselves or having grown up with that just being the way things are. It was just to be mean.

Looking down at myself, I couldn't help but trace the place I was once stabbed on my waist. My flesh in that spot was raised, something you could find with your eyes closed. It was a light pink, a different shade than the rest of my skin. Except for the other scars of course. The ones that litter my body like trash.

"Hi."

Slowly raising my head, I met his eyes. He just stood there, his dirty clothes in his hands as he stared at me. I couldn't help but look back, taking in his features by the lantern that had never been on like this. When my shirt was off, revealing most of the marks on my top half.

"They're bad. I know."

"They're visible,"He said quietly.

"Yeah. I don't like 'em. Obviously. They're pretty pointless,"I shrugged.

He took meaningful steps towards me, taking his time with each like there was a deeper purpose to them. To getting to me even though I was right there. To being so close even though our souls are practically intertwined.

"There's a reason for them. All of them. Survival,"He said softly, his hand reaching for by my neck. Leaning my head back, I let him trace my collarbone, a place so close to such a vulnerable part of my body. One that had only been touched to take away my life. Never once had it been held as a reason to give me life, for a reason to live, to make me better.

"Show me,"He whispered as he pulled away.

"What?"I asked quickly, looking down at him.

"Show me?"He repeated, a little more unsure.

I'm unsure. I trust him. I love him. I'd do anything for him.

I'm insecure though. I don't show it, but I sometimes get this twisted feeling in my stomach when he looks at me, like he'll see all the bad things that I do.

I trust him though. I trust that he won't see me that way. I want to trust him.

My legs shook as I stood, a deep fear of judgement, of disgust, of a flicker of regret crossing his eyes making my heart drop. Or, worst of all, lust. Pure selfish lust. A look I knew far too well. One that had never been soft or had care in it.

And a small knowing that never once has he looked at me that way.

Turning around, I stood still. Understanding without a word, he slowly, carefully, unhooked my bra. Sliding his fingers under the straps, he pulled it halfway down my arms until I had to do the rest.

"You love me?"I asked slowly.

"I love you. I'll always love you."

Nodding, I slowly pried my night pants off my legs, setting them to the side with my bra.

"That's all,"I said firmly.

"Okay."

"I'm gonna lay down."

"You don't have to-"
"Shush. Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

He knows. He obviously already knows. He's seen a lot of them and has been told about so many.