A few months ago, Nikki threw away his gloves.
He didnāt want to hide his scars anymore. Theyāre part of him, and they make him who he is. But now heās staring into his closet, and heās realizing something that he should have realized sooner.
Gloves were replaced with long sleeves. Full shirts were replaced with crop tops and undershirts. Thigh-high boots were replaced with knee-high socks.
At least he stopped using his hair to cover his face, and he hasnāt touched an eyepatch in ages. Little victories, he thinks to himself as he tries not to cry.
Little victories.












