Guns and Roses

THIRTY

♕Harley Anderson♕

I stare at him, the air filled with something I can't name. I don't say anything, the words I want to say getting stuck in my throat. I try and process it all- the fact that his real name is Danté, how he's an ex-drug dealer and murderer, how his parents are in jail.

It's all too much.

But for some reason, I'm not running. I'm not cowering away or feeling scared.

Cameron turns to lean against the sliding door to his balcony, running a hand through his hair while he tugs at it painfully. "I'm a monster." He whispers painfully and I feel something stir inside of me and I gulp. "I'm a fucking monster." He mumbles, tugging at his hair even harder. I'm by his side in a second, pulling his hand away. Even though I'm only finding out who he really is now and that unsettles me a little bit, I cannot stand back and watch him hurt himself. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't look at me and I feel my heart ache. I clip his chin and move it so that I can see his eyes.

Silent tears are streaming down his cheeks and I look between them. They stare back at me with pain. I feel my heart clench at the sight of him in such despair.

I shake my head. "You're no monster Cameron. You're just someone who was dealt a sucky deck of cards from life." I feel the need to say. Yes, he's killed people and yes, he's done unthinkable things but the fact that he actually feels bad about, that he regrets doing it, allows me to see that he isn't a monster. He's human.

He shakes his head and I nod my head vigorously. He pulls away from me and my hand drops to my side limply. "I am a monster Harley and you deserve someone much better than me."

I shake my head. That couldn't be farther from the truth. "You know that's not true."

"You know it is." He looks at me sternly.

"It's not."

"How do you know that?" He exclaims, his voice wavering. "How do you know?" His voice is softer this time and it cracks as the words leave his mouth. I take in a sharp breath.

How did I know? Well, that was my own heartbreaking story to tell. I knew that a monster didn't feel bad after they hurt someone. They never tried to correct their mistakes. They never cried to other people about it. I knew that monster's eyes were always heartless and cold, completely emotionless. I knew that they didn't care about anyone or anything.

And Cameron doesn't fit into any of those things.

I suddenly feel a weight being placed on my chest. Here he is- showing me his scars. Showing me the part of him that is the darkest and most reckless, the destructive and ruined. And I cannot even repay the favour? I don't have any words to say, but perhaps my own scars can do it for me.

I don't doubt myself as I peel my own shirt off. Cameron stares at me in surprise and confusion and when I drop my shirt onto the floor, I try and ignore how uncomfortable I feel with showing my chest. I want to wrap my arms around myself and cover what I have to show but I know I can't, that I shouldn't.

His eyes settle on the few marks I have on my stomach and I gulp, swallowing all the emotions that threaten to drown me. His eyes flick back up to mine in a silent question and I slowly turn around, pulling my hair to the front so that my back is on full display. So that he can see every single little mark that's not supposed to be there.

I don't look back to gauge his reaction but when I feel his cool fingerprints trace one of my scars, I take in a sharp breath, the feeling of someone touching them sending a whole wave of emotions over me that makes tears sting my eyes.