#warning!selfharm

You always wore a watch on one wrist and a thin bracelet on the other. You never wore shorts, even to bed. If he thought about it, the only times you had been intimate were when the lights were dimmed low or when clothing had been pulled to the side. That’s the only way he can think that he missed this. That he somehow didn’t know you struggled with this. He still feels guilty, like the world’s worst profiler.

He hadn’t meant to stumble on you earlier, hadn’t meant to scare you but now he’s glad he did. He’d come home early without telling you, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Instead of finding you curled up on the couch though, he found you crying on the bath tub, a single red line cut across your upper thigh. In the light of the bathroom he can see multiple criss crossed marks littering your skin, marks he’d never noticed before or had wrongfully assumed were some form of stretch mark.

When you see he’s home you yelp. Rushing to shut the door, to push him out and not let him see you like this but he doesn’t let you, a strong arm grasping the door while the other reaches out to you. It’s not much of a struggle for him to pull you into his broad chest and your hands automatically grip his shirt as you tremble in his hold.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then Aaron speaks softly,

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

He says the words into your hair, his large hands rubbing up and down your back in a calming manner. He doesn’t attempt to pull back, or make you look at him but he feels you tense all the same.

Your voice is broken and hoarse when you reply,

“Nothing, please let’s forget this”.

“I can’t just forget this, sweetheart, I care about you too much”.

You whimper. “Please, Aaron”.

He sighs, and brings you closer into him, then pulls back and moves you to sit on the closed toilet. The blood from your thigh is smeared but the cut doesn’t look too deep. He spots the razor you used still in the bath tub but ignores it for now, reaching into the cabinet under the sink for the first aid kit. Neither of you talk as he cleans the blood and he notices you don’t even flinch at the alcohol he’s dabbed on the fresh wound. He bandages the cut before pressing a kiss directly to the white cloth and then looking up at your tear stained face. His eyes soften but he doesn’t speak, instead, he loops an arm under your legs and another around your back, lifting you up and carrying you bridal style to the bedroom. He sets you down on the edge of the bed and returns to the bathroom. You hear him cleaning something up, assume it’s the first aid kit, and then hear what sounds like metal hitting plastic. You’re confused before you realize he must have thrown the razor into the plastic trash can.

Aaron comes back out, his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the top button of his shirt undone. You haven’t moved from the spot he set you down upon and he sits next to you, taking your hands in his. He sits there, just waiting, and you can’t stand the patient look in his eyes. Before you even realize it, you throw yourself into his arms, completely breaking down. He grunts at the force of your impact but immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you to straddle his lap, stroking your hair and making a light shushing sound. You’re beyond thankful that Jack is at a sleep over tonight, your sobs are loud and messy, snot running out of your nose and you struggle to breathe, gasping for air in between your sobs.

As you break down, Aaron holds you, slowly rocking you back and forth. You don’t deserve him is the only thought running through your brain and you choke out an apology.

“I-I’m sorry”. Suddenly, it’s the only thing you can say, repeating the two words over and over and over again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”. You’re panicking now, you can feel your heart beating, can hear it as if the organ has moved directly in your ear. It’s too hot now and you shouldn’t be in his arms, don’t deserve to feel comforted. It’s as if you’re underwater, and you can’t breathe. You struggle to move away, to distance yourself from this man but Aaron’s face is suddenly in your line of vision and his hands are cupping your face.

“Honey, can you hear me? I need you to listen to my voice, okay? Can you do that for me?” His tone is stern but his eyes are still so gentle, darting across your face, and the hands touching you are careful to caress and not grab. You manage to nod your head and you try to focus on him but find it difficult, your vision blurring.

“Okay, okay good sweetheart, good girl. Can you speak right now?”

You open and close your mouth a few times before swallowing, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“A-aron” you weakly whisper.

“I’m right here, good job, I’m proud of you. Can you tell me something you feel right now?”

It takes a second for you to process the question. Feel? Then you close your eyes, concentrate and open them again. “Hands. Yo-your hands are cold”.

“I’m sorry they’re cold, angel. What about sound? What do you hear?”

You pause again but answer quicker this time, “the fan is on”.

“Yeah, that’s really good honey. What about smell?”

You don’t have to pause this time, your eyes are fully focused on Aaron’s face and you can see the genuine worry in his eyes now.

“Your cologne. It smells good. It makes me feel safe”. Your voice is still a soft whisper but it’s not broken, more confident.

Aaron looked relieved at your answer and you feel your eyes well up with tears again. They don’t even fully fall before his thumb brushes them away.

“I know you don’t want to talk but sweetheart, you need to. I love you and nothing you say will change that. Please”.

You take a sharp breath, your walls cracking at his plea, at the declaration of love.

“I was a month clean” you hear yourself say.

Aaron’s eyebrows furrow at this and then a look of recognition passes on his face.

“From hurting yourself?”

You nod, the confirmation getting caught in your throat.

“How long have you been doing that” he questions.

“A.. a very long time”. Admitting it opens a door you thought you had locked long ago and suddenly the words spill out, and you’re telling Aaron everything. The first time you hurt yourself. The first time you cut too deep. The other ways you’ve tried. How angry you are at yourself, how disgusted you feel but how you keep going back to it because sometimes you don’t feel anything and it’s the one thing that helps. How sometimes you don’t even have a reason. How ashamed you are, how you never wanted him to know. How lonely you feel. How much you hate the scars.

Strangely, you’re not crying as you spill your soul to the man in front of you. He doesn’t interrupt a single time, just watches you, a hand touching you in some way the entire time. He lets you talk until you have no words left to say, until you’re just staring at him. He hates how resigned you look, like you expect him to walk away now.

He pulls you just slightly closer to him, and then he kisses your forehead. Then your cheeks, your eyes flutter close and he presses butterfly kisses to your eyelids. The tip of your nose. His voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it when he murmurs against your mouth.

“I love you. I got you and I’m not going anywhere. You are never alone”.

For the second time you launch yourself at him, although this time he’s much more prepared and he catches you, kissing you gently and then just holding you to him. He knows you two have quite a bit to discuss, have some very serious conversations in the future. But he also knows right now isn’t the time to press, to solve, or profile you. You need him as a boyfriend, as your best friend, as the man who loves you and whom you love. He hears you whisper another apology and he makes you look at him,

“You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m sorry for not seeing how you were struggling. For not realizing how lonely you felt. I’m here, sweetheart.”

You cup his face, reaching up to brush your lips against his. It’s a soft and sweet kiss but you long for more, are unsure how to ask, if it’s even appropriate. He must see the look on your face because he asks you,

“What is it?”

You stare at him, taking a deep breath.

“Will you make love to me?”

It’s a ridiculous phrase, and you feel stupid asking like that but there’s no other way to phrase the question. You don’t want to be pounded into the mattress, you need to feel Aaron all around you, for him to surround your senses.

He smiles at you, and moves you back to the bed. You lie down with him leaning over you. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and you softly sigh when he kisses you, his mouth moving along your jaw. You both are fully clothed still but he presses himself into you, and you relish in the feeling of his weight on top of you.

Slowly, you two help each other undress. The lights are still on, a first that you are ignoring until Aaron starts kissing every single mark he comes across. He doesn’t say anything, but looks at you with each kiss, his eyes shining with understanding. When he gets to your latest mark, he presses another kiss to the white bandage and this whispers,

“You’re beautiful. I love every part of you and your body”.

You smile at him, pulling his face back up to you, desperate for him to kiss you once more. He happily does so, deepening the kiss as one hand trails down your body, grazing your chest before making its way to your waiting folds. He’s surprised by just how wet you already are, but not quite satisfied. Slowly, with the pad of a single finger he circles your clit, featherlight touches until you’re whining into his mouth. He holds back a smirk as he applies more pressure, using his thumb now as his pointer finger slides into your opening.

“Aaron” you moan, your head falling back onto the pillow. His middle finger soon joins the other and he slowly thrusts into you, keeping up the circular motion with his thumb.

“Please, I need you in me” you say as you grasp his wrist. You love how he always prepares you first, always tries to get you off at least once before he even enters you but you’re too impatient tonight. You know you’re ready and you desperately need to feel his cock in you, to feel connected.

“Alright, angel” he replies, kissing you once more before leaning on his forearms above you. Your hand grasps his thick cock, and you stroke him a few times before guiding him to your entrance. He pushes into you gently, rocking his hips into yours. Once he’s fully in you, you bring his mouth back to yours, one hand on his face and the other in his hair.

Aaron sets a slow, steady pace. His lips are never far from your own and neither of you speak, the only sounds are the soft moans and sighs you both make. Aaron has always filled you so well, has stretched your walls in the most pleasurable way. He shifts his weight to one arm, moving a hand back down to your clit and circling it once more. The added pressure is just the thing you need and you gasp loudly,

“Oh- Aaron, I’m so close”.

He hums at you, circling your clit faster but keeping the same slow and steady thrusts.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you”.

Your body obeys him, it only takes a couple more of those slow thrusts and your clench around his length, your orgasm hitting you. It’s like an ocean wave crashing on the shore, it hits you suddenly, reaching far up your body and you cry his name.

His hips falter, the timing of his thrusts breaking rhythm and you know he’s close as well.

“Fill me, Aaron. Please, I need to feel you”. You whimper and he lets out a low groan, kissing you once more as he spills himself into your warmth. His hips falter as he works through his orgasm, and you can feel his cock twitching. You pull him down to lay on top of you, telling him without words not to pull out yet and he doesn’t resist. You two lay like that for a while, his cock softening completely inside of you. You whine when he does finally pull out, but follow him silently to the bathroom. He makes you pee and cleans you both up. You both brush your teeth before he turns off the bedroom light, and he pulls you to lay on his chest.

“I love you” you whisper to him, counting each heartbeat.

“I love you” he responds, arm tracing a path up and down your own. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and you snuggle closer into his chest.