She lifts her head from my palm and looks at me with saddened eyes. She slowly lifts her t-shirt, and my eyes follow the seam as it rises; her pink underwear is peaking out, but that is not what caught my attention. Burn marks paint the insides of her thighs. I know what a burn mark feels like, I know what they look like, I've been through my pyro stage. Looking at her tender thighs, I notice the old burns below the fresh ones. Tears pool behind my eyes, my emotions stuck in my throat, begging to come out. My eyes feel strained as I try to hold back the tears. I swallow hard before my eyes meet hers, matching her brokenness. “Who did this to you, Scar?”
Her chin trembles as she exhales a small breath. I reach for her hand. “Did your dad do this to you?” Tears run down her cheeks as my eyes zone in on the burns once more. She shakes her head no.
“Tell me who hurt you, baby?”Baby? How could I let that slip? What was happening to me?It’s like my heart is speaking, and my brain hasn't caught up yet. Swallowing again, I can feel my eyebrows pinching so hard together, trying to find understanding, answering, needing them. She takes her small, fragile hand and wipes her tears, while the other holds her T-shirt up, revealing her secrets.
She takes a big, deep breath, her eyes locking on mine, as they swiftly move back and forth between them. “I did.”No. No. Why? Why would she hurt herself like this?
Agony rips my heart out, and my knees fail to hold my weight. I dropped to the floor in front of her. Reaching out, I grab onto her hips lightly, holding her between my trembling hands. Trying to steady my quivering lip, my eyes meet hers, and pain mixed with regret flashes through hers as she lets outa long breath. I shudder in a long breath. “Why, why would you do this?” I take my thumbs slowly and steadily, ever so gently grazing the scarred burns, so careful as not to brush the fresh ones. I look up to her, her green eyes soft. She places her hand on the top of my head, running her fingers through my hair, as she rubs gently.No, why is she comforting me?I lean forward and place my lips on her scars, kissing them gently. “Tell me, Scar, tell me, baby.” She bends her knees to match my level, her body now flush with mine. She takes her hands and wipes my fallen tears before she sits on the floor in front of me.
She sucks in a big breath as I fall next to her. “If I said I can’t tell you, would you accept it?” Her voice is fragile and quiet.Fuck no. But I can’t push her away.
I take my hand and rub it gently over hers, clearing my throat as I choke down more tears. “I wouldn’t want to accept it, but I won’t push you.” She remains quiet. “I want you to know you're not alone, and if you can’t tell me, then I’d like to help or be your person. I don’t want you to do this anymore, please. Ple–” I stop myself; the gates to my tears want to burst, but I need to be strong. She is the broken one, but fuck, she is breaking me too. “What if we meet on the nights Levi has practice? We can meet on the roof, but this has to stop, Scar.”The nickname hits me, Scar. Here she sits, scarring herself, when she has no idea how big the beautiful imprint she has made on my heart is, forever scaring it.
She nods in acceptance. “We can do that, but Spence, please, please don’t tell Levi. I am begging you.” She whimpers, holding back her tears.
Placing my arm around her neck, she rests her head on my shoulder. “I won’t, but this has to stop. You are asking me to keep a big secret from my best friend, and hurting one person, I–” I look into her eyes, “one person I care for deeply.” You can’ttell me to walk away from that.” Her trembling chin quivers as she forces a small smile. “Promise me, promise me you’ll stop, and if you ever want to hurt yourself, you call me. Please, baby, promise me.” I feel my chest rising and falling, so much weight on this one answer, it’s like begging someone to stay when all they want to do is leave.
“I promise.” Her eyes dart from my eyes to my mouth, and I get lost in the realization I'm falling in love with her. I am entirely, without a doubt in my mind, falling for my best friend's sister.
Our friendship blossomed, and so did my jealousy. Watching her talk to other guys, watching them give her the attention I want to give her?Fuck.Lost in this moment, trapped in her soft and hurting eyes, I place my hands on her face and pull her into me. Her lips brush mine, our breath tangling together. I look her in her eyes, gauging her reaction to our closeness, following her gaze as it falls onto my lips.
Taking in a breath, I kiss her. Pressing my lips to hers, tasting the salt from our tears, I kiss her passionately, holding her close, attempting to kiss all her pain away. I kiss her like it will save her, I kiss hard and deep and wanting, a kiss that begs her to stop hurting herself, a kiss that is…wrong. So wrong, she is my best friend's sister, and she is vulnerable right now, in this moment.I pull back when the realization hits me like a truck going one hundred down the freeway. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that. You’re vulnerable, and I–I–” I stop my heaving chest bounces up and down as I watch her smile, a genuine smile that finds her eyes, that shows her beautiful white teeth, a smile that lifts the sadness for a slight moment.
She rubs the back of my head with her hand, fingers tangled in my lush curls. “I’ve been waiting years for this, my first kiss.”Her words hit me, as if the truck that had struck me moments ago had made a U-turn and come back to finish the job.
Lust courses through me. “How about a deal? If I promise to keep kissing you, will you promise not to hurt yourself?” I rub her cheek, wanting to devour her and show just how loved and worthy she is.
She leans in and steals another kiss from my wanting lips. “Yes,” she whispers as she replaces my want with desire.
Chapter 15
Two Truths & A Lie
Scarlett
Following Spencer to my window, I couldn’t help but smile, thinking this boy had climbed an old wooden trellis and broke into my home just to check on me. “Why are you smiling?” He pulls me into him, and his touch is like lightning, sending volts of electricity through my body, only he is bringing me back to life. I can’t help but grin more when he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me closer.
He puts his lips to mine. “Just thinking about you climbing that old wooden thing and breaking into my house.” He gives me his famous grin before kissing me.I will never not want him to kiss me. He nudges my nose with his before whispering.
“I’ll climb that trellis until it gives out if I can keep you safe and keep kissing you.” I hug him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Levi will be home soon. Text me when you get home.” I smile and chuckle.
“Of course, I wouldn’t want you to worry about me getting home.” He chuckles, rubbing his chest against my torso, making me hold my breath. My ribs are still sore; just because one secret is out does not mean they all have to be. He lets go and crawls back out of my window. “Good night, Scar.” He leans in, silently asking for another kiss.
“Thank you for tonight." His eyes deepen before I kiss him. Pulling away, he starts down the trellis, and I shut the window, keeping it unlocked for next time, in case he wants to break in.
Lying in bed while I wait for Levi to get home, my mind runs on lust and relief. One secret is out. One truth and the weight that is lifted is huge. He saw me at my worst, and he stayed. He stayed, he kissed me, he kissed my burns. He looked at me and all my wreckage, and he saw beauty.
He asked me if my dad hurt me, and I lied. I had the perfect opportunity to tell him, and I didn’t. To be fair, he was asking about the burns, and those are from me. If I had lifted my shirt any higher, those black and blue bruises would have been from him. Tonight, I spoke two truths and one lie, and it kills me to lie to him, but the truth is dangerous. I lay back on my pillow, and my phone dings.
Spencer
Made it home ;) Good Night, Scar. You never have to thank me; thank me by letting me be your person, and that will be thanks enough.
My heart aches with relief, as if one secret has finally been given a breather from being bottled up. I was terrified when he walked in, and I was caught. Guilt washed over me mixed with a downpour of regret; it wasn't that I regretted what I had done, but rather that I regretted how my actions had made him feel. The catastrophe in his eyes, the quiver of his chin, and the ache in his chest when he would breathe. I did that to him, and that was a ball of grief I didn't expect.
Me
