Wheelchair (polysanders)

What are those scars from?

~Trigger Warning: abuse, hints at self harm, please inform me if there's more~

-Time Skip, let's say two weeks-

[Roman's pov]

I open the door to find my boyfriend, looking like he just....I hope he wasn't.

"Virgil, were you just crying?" I asked him. He nodded and walked into the house. "Were they happy tears?"

"Happy tears don't exist when it comes to me" He said coldly. 

"Hey, hey what happened?" I asked softly, bending down to his level. I wanted to put on an arm on his shoulder, but I didn't want to make things worse more.

"Can...c-can we sit on the couch?" He asked quietly and nervously. I just nodded because my stupid tongue deciding to fail me. Why do you never work at the right times you stupid muscle? Breathe, Roman. Take care of your boyfriend. I locked the door and lead him to the couch. My parents weren't home, so it would be more private.

"Did, did she do something?" I asked him. I was afraid to ask. She's...a bit of a touchy subject.

"Y-yeah, she did. I-I'm sorry" Virgil admitted. He started to cry. Oh, I hope that sack of shit dies in a ditch. That dirtbag of a woman definitely shouldn't be Virgil's caretaker. No, not caretaker um...legal guardian. 

"May I see Virg? I promise I won't tell" I said. I have perfected my response so that it always gets him to show me. I can't tell if that's a win or a loss.

He bit his lip in nervousness. It was an easy tick of his to spot. I made a little swirl with my ring finger. It was a gesture that now held the significance of 'don't worry, it's fine'.  He noticed and nodded prudently. I gave him a sad smile as I helped him take of his sweatshirt and shirt.

His pale skin was covered dark bruises, cuts, and lashes.The bruises from her kicks and punches. The cuts from thrown glass bottles and possibly a knife. The lashes from whips and belts. God that woman was sick. I inspected him for a little longer, just in case. They were all "normal" things I saw when he same to my house like this. Until I got to his arms.

"What are those scars from?" I questioned. I have this bad feeling it wasn't from her.

I'm really sorry. I don't mean to keep leaving you guys on cliffhangers. I'm just sad, pissed off and tired. Well, it's about like eleven thirty, so I might stay up and write the next chapter. Fuck sleep. Well anyways, thanks for reading. Comment, vote, whatever.

-SoftxRacoon