TRIGGER warning, I ask that you don't read if this makes you feel uncomfortable
(Y/EBF/N=your ex-boyfriend's name)
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"Hey, Y/N! Look at these shorts, they're floral print! I know you love floral! Wanna try them on?" Your sweet boyfriend, Luke, asked. Freezing, you stared at him blankly. You never wore shorts. Period. The long, white scars that streaked your thighs reminded you of when you were fourteen to sixteen years old. It was a period of time when your ex-boyfriend had gotten into alcohol. Y/EBF/N got into drinking about three weeks after you started dating him. Everytime you hung out with him, he offered you a drink; when you declined, he just drank yours as well as his. It got worse when you started hanging out with your other friends more often. Y/EBF/N started pushing you around if you were late to a date, or he caught you with a friend. "You're such a whore," he would slur, shoving you to the ground. And he wouldn't let you leave; he forced you to stay and deal with his abuse. The anxiety overtook you, and you started cutting your thighs to relieve yourself of the pain and misery. After two years of misery and pain and abuse, you ran. Sixteen and on your own, you ran to your aunt's house, and she took you in. Your parents understood and let you stay with her. However, the pain had become too much to bear and you continued to slash your thighs.
Now, standing here with Luke, you didn't know what to do. Letting out a small whimper, you dropped the clothes you were holding and sprinted into the changing room. "W-wait, Y/N!" Luke called, running after you. He slipped in the room before you had the chance to shut the door, and he took your face in his hands. "Please. Please tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, I want to be there for you," Luke pleaded, blue eyes filled with concern. "There...there are...scars on my thighs, Luke. So many. Long, white lines all over my legs," you confessed quietly. You couldn't cry anymore; there were no more tears. "Tell me you haven't...hurt yourself recently," he begged. Looking into Luke's sweet, concerned face broke your heart, and you had to tell him the truth. Breathing deeply, you told him, "Last time was about a month ago." Luke didn't reply; he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to the ground. The two of you just laid there in silence. Luke kissed you softly and whispered, "I'll help you feel beautiful." And he kept his promse. Over time, you got better. The lines on your legs didn't bug you anymore, and you loved yourself nearly as much as Luke loved you.
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again, longer bc more detail...i'll post Calum's tomorrow
i'll always be here for every single one of you
-Anna :-)
