Chase Atlantic Preferences

They See Your Scars (Self-Inflicted)-

Clinton Cave-

You were helping Clinton carry some equipment to the back room, sleeves rolled up in the heat. You didn't notice his eyes catch on the faint lines along your forearm until his steps slowed. "Hey..." His voice was quieter, almost unsure. You froze, realizing too late what he'd seen. Clinton set down the box and moved closer, his expression gentle but weighted. "I'm not gonna ask anything you don't wanna tell me," he murmured, "but please... don't carry this alone." His hand hovered for a moment before resting lightly on yours, grounding you without making you feel trapped.

Mitchel Cave-

You were crouched down, adjusting the lighting for a shoot, when your shirt sleeve slipped back more than usual. Mitchel, mid-sentence, faltered. His brows pulled together, but instead of blurting something out, he crouched down beside you. "Hey," he said softly, "you okay?" His tone was the kind of careful that let you know he wasn't judging. When you tried to brush it off, he just shook his head slightly. "You don't have to hide around me. I mean it." He stayed there until you nodded, giving you the choice to speak or not.

Christian Anthony-

Christian had been hanging out with you in the green room post-show, both of you laughing about something dumb, when you reached for your drink and your hoodie sleeve slid back. The humor in his eyes softened instantly. "Hold on..." His gaze flicked to you, not your arm, like he was making sure you knew he wasn't staring. "You've been fighting some battles, huh?" he said, voice low and sincere. You opened your mouth, unsure what to say, but he just added, "I'm not gonna let you feel like you're alone in it."

Jesse Boyle-

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, playing with your phone, when Jesse came in and sat beside you. When you shifted, the cuff of your pajama pants pulled up slightly, revealing marks along your ankle. His eyes caught them, and his breath hitched almost inaudibly. "Hey... can you look at me?" he asked softly. You hesitated but finally met his gaze. "I'm not mad... I'm just scared," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Scared of losing you." He pulled you gently into his side, no pressure for explanations—just warmth.

Patrick Wilde-

You were helping Patrick unpack some new gear when your sleeve caught on a strap and slid down. You quickly yanked it back into place, but his sharp inhale told you he'd noticed. "Wait," he said softly, holding his hands up like he didn't want you to feel cornered. "I... didn't know." His voice cracked just slightly, that best-friend concern breaking through his usual cool demeanor. "You mean the world to me, you know that?" When you gave a small nod, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you from the side, murmuring, "I've got you. Always."