tequila ; s. paulson one - shots

scars (c. goode)

(apology in advance for heavy stuff 😔)

tw : mentions of self harm, depression, etc

You stood in front of your dresser drawers, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around your body, trying to pick out which pajamas to wear for the night when a someone spoke from the doorway.

"Wow, what a view. I came to check on you but I guess I can settle on checking you out," the soft voice of the supreme rang out through the silence, making you jump.

"Jesus, Delia, what the hell? I nearly had a heart attack!" you frantically grabbed for a shirt in the open drawer, your actions making the older chuckle softly.

She walked over right after you had managed to wrestle into your oversized black shirt, pulling you in a hug.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you wrapped your arms around the older woman, who started giggling, which earned a confused look from you.

"What?" you asked, bewildered. She merely showed you the shirt's tag that was against your chest.

"That's what you get for hurrying, dear," she said amusedly as she pressed a kiss to your forehead before moving to take off your shirt, "Let me help you."

Slowly backing away, you shook your head, "No, Delia, I'll do it."

She cocked her head questioningly but shrugged. Moving towards your clothes closet, she selected a set of clothes, a black tank top and black cycling shorts and handed it to you.

"If you're going to take off that shirt, why not wear these?" she offered, fixing the hem of her lavender nightgown.

You were momentarily speechless, but took it anyway, "Y-yeah, give me a sec."

She was noticing your growing nervousness and sat on your bed, the left side, her side, "Is there anything you want to tell me, dear? You're normally not this nervous around me."

"Well, normally, I'm fully clothed." you mumbled as you pulled on your underwear and the shorts, hesitating to take off the shirt.

This did not go unnoticed by your girlfriend, whose worry was beginning to increase at your actions.

"Dear, I have seen girls without clothes when I have to treat injuries. It's not that big a deal."

You sighed, taking off your shirt and putting on the one she picked.

She patted the spot next to her and you sat there, allowing yourself tp be wrapped in her hugs and soft kisses on your head.

"Honey, you know I love you, right?" she asked, to which you could only nod, "And I don't want to see you uncomfortable or hurt. So could you tell me what's on your mind, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, took off your shirt and lay on your stomach, your head on her lap.

You felt her hands gently trace over the scars you had on your shoulders, some pink, most white, and one particularly an angry red.

She pressed a kiss to your head, "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked kindly, handing you your top, which you put on and snuggled into her arms.

"When I was in 6th grade, the zipper of my bag fell off and it was pretty sharp. I just tried dragging it across my arm," you started, showing her some very faint scars on your right forearm, while she started running her hands through your hair.

"I never thought there was anything wrong with it. At first I showed it off actually, and with the reaction I got from people, I learned that it was frowned upon. The guidance counselor at our school suggested maybe I wanted attention, so I said that was it.

"After that, I used a pair of scissors to slice my inner thighs, but I got busted, and that's when I learned it had to be my little secret. Some of my friends said that my classmate hid hers under her watch, so for a long time I would do that.

"I once tried it on my face and got busted, but they didn't understand that sometimes I would think, I want a scar on my face, and that day I decided to act on it.

"But then I was examining myself in the mirror once and I decided to try my shoulders. It was almost a perfect plan. I was bored to no end, and I could get dressed in the privacy of the bathroom. So I started slicing myself using a small blade.

"That was when I realized why people did it and why they hid it. It was such a dark pleasure in seeing the dark blood streaming down my body, and feeling the sting as I showered after, and while sleeping.

"I told one person about it, and since then I haven't really done it so much as I did on my shoulders, I guess, but it's tempting to slice my wrist so I can suck the blood sometimes.

"I used to slice my wrists with a cutter when I got frustrated with myself, but my friends caught me and asked me if I wanted to seek help, but I think if I ever asked for help, they'd think I was making a big deal out of things, you know?

"Sometimes I wonder why people always ask me to stop. The main reason I tried to stop was because I don't want to have to explain myself when they would never understand me.

"The main thing that sucks is that it's always been my dream to wear halter tops and sleeveless clothes, but if I ever do, people will ask me what these are, and that's happened, but sometimes it's tiring to lie, you know?"

You felt Cordelia's lips plant kisses everywhere, from your head, to your neck, to those ugly scars.

"Look at me, please, Y/N," she spoke softly, and when you did, she kissed your lips softly and passionately, showing you what could not be said in words.

"As much as I want you to not hurt yourself, I can't make that decision for you," she said in a worried tone as she squeezed your hand, "But please, never for a second, think of keeping these secrets from me because you think I wouldn't understand,"

"I just don't want you to be ashamed of me, Delia," you mumbled, to which she responded by brushing some stray hairs from your face, "Y/N, sweetheart, why would I be ashamed of you? I love you, and having one bad habit won't change that. You are and always will be beautiful in my eyes."

As you turned out the lights and snuggled close, you could feel her hands delicately tracing her fingers over all the marks the blade had left and her lips pressing kisses against your head. In that moment, it almost felt like even those scars were beautiful too.

wc : 1130