Love Marks and Hate Marks (Troyler)

Scars

Tyler's POV

Scars. All up and down Troye's chest, and littering his sides. Self-inflicted scars. Some were old, some newer, and some looking like they needed to be bandaged. So this was why Troye hadn't wanted me to see his chest. I gasped as realization hit me- this is what had been on his shirt the other day, during our Skype call. Blood.
"Troye, Troye. . . ." I kept whispering, every cut my eyes laid on broke my heart a little more.
Every time he breathed, with every rise of his beautiful, marked chest, the red stripes would stretch across his protruding ribs, then follow them back down as he exhaled, making it seem like they were inescapable.
I gently rolled him over, gripping his overly-skinny frame. Don't tell me he was starving himself, too.
I felt the tear roll down my cheek, and it landed on Troyes marred back. There were even more slashes than on the front.
Slashes decorated his prominent spine. The pale flesh I so loved was painted red and pink.
Why would Troye do this to himself? What was wrong? I wanted to just hold him and make all his fears and demons melt away.
I tentatively touched a particularly deep cut, and Troye winced in pain in his sleep. I couldn't look anymore. I pulled Troyes shirt down, rolling him back over and watching his face.
It looked so lovely and innocent, you would never guess he would be doing this to himself. What could possibly be going on in his life to make this happen?
This was when I realized that what I felt for Troye wasn't just some crush. This boy had me wrapped around his finger. And now he was in pain, and I hadn't been there for him. The one I loved was suffering and I hadn't even noticed anything was wrong until the result was right in front of me. It hit me like a smack in the face. It hurt like hell, too.
I swore this wouldn't happen again. Not on my watch. I would make sure Troye knew that everything was going to be okay. I would be there for him from now on. It doesn't matter if he lives halfway across the world, because for someone you love, you would do anything.
I wouldn't let him slip through my fingers, I would make sure he knew I love him.
I wiped away my tears and pulled Troye close to me. I didn't even realize I was still saying his name until he breathed, "Tyler. . . ."
I stroked his hair and laid down with him, whispering sweet, comforting things to him until I fell asleep with him. Now, if only until we woke, I was with Troye, and he was absolutely safe.