Trigger warning:
Slight mentions of self-harm, but not the action.
Luke's POV:
I was glad Belle had never admired my body in a lot of detail.
If she did, she'd probably notice the fading scars covering the outer sides of my thighs.
She'd only ever been on top of me, covering them, or between my legs, her eyes unable to even reach them.
I don't know if I'll ever tell her, because then I'll have to tell her what happened with Lucy, and she might blame me, like the others did.
I'd only just stopped believing it was my fault.
I stopped staring at my legs when I heard my mum coming up the stairs, pulling on a pair of fresh pants to cover them, and walking to my wardrobe to find something to wear.
"Luke, can I come in?" My mum called, tapping on the door and entering.
Swearing under my breath, I bent my neck around the wardrobe door to see her and hide my body, "Why ask and knock if you're doing it anyway?"
My mum chose to ignore the question, sitting on my bed and leaving me a little embarrassed by her presence and my half-nakedness.
"School tomorrow."
"Mm." I gave her a falsely ecstatic smile and pulled out a sweatshirt, "And...?"
"We'll be driving Belle to school on Mondays and Wednesdays, okay?"
I grinned, "Yeah!"
"About you two..."
"Oh God. Stop."
My mum's eyebrows raised and I pulled my sweatshirt over my head in an attempt to hide the blush that had invaded my cheeks.
"I was talking to Michael's mum, and now, I don't know the situation between you and Belle, sweetie," She hesitated, I knew what was coming, "But... She says he speaks very highly of her, and I'd hate to see a repeat of..." Trailing off, my mum pursed her lips, looking at me a little nervously as I clenched my fists.
"Nothing like that is going to happen. And that wasn't because of Michael or me." I growled unintentionally and turned away from her; she took it as her cue to leave and did so. Michael knew better than to go for my girlfriend, and I knew that. She wasn't his type anyway.
I continued getting ready, pushing thoughts of Lucy from my mind but allowing the thoughts of Belle to engulf it. Thinking about Belle made me feel happy, that's what I needed.
What I didn't need, however, was the reminder my mum had just given me. School tomorrow.
Not enough time for girlfriends or music or even friends. My grades were low enough, without the distraction of Belle.
And there'd be the extra worries – she'd be meeting guys that were far cooler than me and far better looking, the popular ones that would probably sweep her off her feet with more passion than I ever could. If she left me, she might laugh about my body. She might stop talking to me. She might even tell them about my daddy kink.
No. She wouldn't be like that. I scowled at myself in the mirror, hating my brain for constantly making me feel like I wasn't good enough.
I'd never become a successful artist with this kind of self-consciousness.
