What Now? (Liam Payne) [BWWM] 2016

Toya

As the day goes on, Liam gets more and more noticeably dark and withdrawn into himself, no doubt trying to process everything I told him earlier. I knew I took a risk telling him, but the way he's tip toed around me all day has to come to an end.

"If I wanted to be pitied, I wouldn't have told you that bit about me Liam." I grit as he subconsciously flinches away from my touch. His eyes rise to meet mine and they're swirling with unasked questions and concerns.

"How many," he croaks out, clearing his throat on hearing how strained his vocal cords sound, though he hasn't uttered a word since I told him.

"I'm sorry? How many what?" I ask, face scrunched in confusion.

"How many times have you cut yourself? Tried to kill yourself?"

Oh.

"Umm, I've cut myself more times than I can remember, but scars still mark the spots. I've never tried to outright kill myself. I've thought about it. I've even dreamed of my own funeral and if anyone would miss me and I realized that they probably wouldn't. My life was defiance enough to ruin their days."

Quieting again, Liam watches me carefully and I squirm under his assessing gaze.

"How are you so comfortable with me after something like that?"

I sigh. I knew this question would pop up one day, though I'm impressed Liam actually put voice to it.

"I've already shattered your image of the perfect girl. Do you really want to know?"

He nods, urging me to keep talking.

"Not long after everything, I had my cousin seek out the biggest, most intimidating guy I could find and dated him. He was 3 years older than me and went to school with her. He towered over me which is no easy feat and nobody wanted to face his wrath, so they left me alone. He was a protection of sorts. When one of my ex's decided to put his hands around my throat for not wanting to get back with him, my boyfriend was there at the end of the day with 5 of his equally intimidating friends. My ex never bothered me again."

"But how did you feel comfortable letting someone in?" Liam presses.

I chew my lip thoughtfully. "I guess I wasn't to be honest. I was tired of being alone and I wanted to feel like someone loved me, even with everything. He had his demons too but, if I needed him. He was there."

Liam paces around the space.

"Show me please."

"What?"

"Your scars."

"Liam, I-"

"Please. I won't force it if you don't want to but I need to see them. Please."

Taking a deep breath, I nod and start to lift my shirt. Liam's eyes widen and I freeze under his gaze.

"I didn't realize you had tattoos."

Relaxing and pulling the material over my head, I stand there in a hipsters idea of a bra, majority of my flesh exposed. His eyes roam my body and I fight the urge to move.

"Some of my tattoos cover scars, some cover places where the mental scars are."

He stands up and circles me, trailing his fingers along the faded inks before dropping to his knees and placing a kiss to my ribcage, over my songbird. He does the same to the tattoo on the other side of my ribcage and my spine. His eyes hesitantly rest on the peek of ink sprouting from my waistline before he kisses the top of that too.

Pulling my shirt back on, I step away from him as I undo the strings on my sweats. His hand flies out and grabs mine, "are you sure?"

"No, but I have to."

"You don't-"

"I have to." I say finally, dropping the cotton material around my ankles and kicking it away from me.

His eyes trail the length of my legs, stirring the heat and fear in my body.

"What if he runs?" Hammers against my chest and I screw my eyes shut against the thought.

His touches are feathery light as he traces over the criss crossed lines on my thighs. He kisses those too and my body stirs under his careful exploration of my skin.

"Am I hurting you?"

Shaking my head no, he continues exploring. Coming to the tattoo on my ankle he pauses, eyes looking up, questioning.

"A screw?"

"To keep me centered when I forget the way. You were my inspiration actually." I admit softly as recognition flashes in his eyes.

Scooping me up in his arms, I start, thrown off guard by the sudden change in movement. Carrying me out of the bedroom, he softly sets me down on the couch.

"I'm not going to rush you." He says, sliding down onto the couch next to me.

"Thank you for showing me."

I nod and lean into his embrace as we sit in silence until sleep full of questions envelops us both.