Sander Sides One Shots-DISCONTINUED

Whip Marks-Prinxiety

//tw: abuse. PTSD, sorta. Hardcore angst.

The scars were all over him. His torso, his chest, his back. His thighs and legs. Everywhere except his face.

How did they get there? No one but him knows. And he won't tell a soul. Very few people knew the scars even existed; none but his immediate family had seen the marks. Until today.

He was rummaging through his closet, searching for a shirt, any shirt at all, but none were found. They were all in the living room. He was supposed to take his folded clothes to his room last night, but he had forgotten, meaning all his shirts were in the living room. He groaned and grabbed a jacket and pulled it on, not bothering to zip it up, hoping no one would see him.

Oh, how stupid he was. There were four people living in that household including himself. There was no way he wouldn't be seen. But he didn't think it through.

He ran down the steps to the living room and went straight to the living room table. He bent down to pick up his clothes.

"...Roman..?" A voice asked from behind him, causing him to drop the clothes back down.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, and pulled his jacket tighter around him, turning to face Virgil. But it was no use. Virgil had already seen the scars.

Virgil took a hesitant step closer. "Are those..?"

Roman was silent, staring down at his feet, his arms hugging his waist. "Yeah..." he breathed. "They're whip scars..."

Virgil's usually teasing gaze was now worried, concerned. "What... how did..."

He sighed and picked up his clothes, letting his jacket slip loose, showing more of his scars. "Come with me... I'd rather talk about this in private..." He led Virgil to his room and set his clothes in his closet as Virgil sat down on his bed. Once he finished putting away his clothes, he sat down next to Virgil.

"How did they...?"

He sighed and took off his jacket. Virgil's gaze followed the connecting scars across his torso and chest. His mouth opened slightly, his eyes filled with horror and concern. "Roman..." he whispered. "Why didn't you... why didn't you tell us...?"

He bit his bottom lip. "I-I didn't want to worry you... I'm not worth worrying about... and this was something I wanted to keep hidden, honestly..."

Virgil moved closer and outstretched his hand, hesitating before gently touching one of the scars on his torso. Roman shivered underneath his touch, his body tensing up. Virgil pulled his hand away immediately, but Roman stayed tense, his leg bouncing up and down ceaselessly.

Virgil placed his hand on Roman's leg, steadying it. "Hey... it's alright... calm down... there's nothing to be scared about..."

Roman was silent for a moment, then he let out a choked sob. Virgil immediately wrapped his arms around Roman's waist and pulled him closer, into his comforting embrace. Roman didn't object, tucking his head into the crook of Virgil's neck, allowing the tears to fall. Virgil rubbed his back, letting Roman cry into his shoulder.

Roman's heart throbbed in his chest, but he couldn't tell if it was because he and Virgil were so close to each other or because of the fear of what Virgil thought of his scars. What he thought might've happened to cause them.

"Beatings..." Roman whispered, causing Virgil to sit up. He sniffled and pulled away from the embrace, staring down at his bed.

"Huh...?"

"That's what the marks are from... beatings..." he mumbled, wiping his nose with his arm.

"Roman... I..." He shook his head, tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm so sorry..." he mumbled. "When... when did this happen...?"