Bruises covered your entire side, legs, and other hidden parts of your body. You kept them covered, makeup, bigger clothes, excuses.
It seemed you always had an excuse for it,
"Oh I tripped" "Hit the edge of my bed" "I blame the stairs"
One morning, you awoke, going into the bathroom. You washed your face and woke yourself up before staring at your reflection. You hated it. It didn't look right in your opinion. Your body didn't seem the right shape either in your eyes.
You left the bathroom, new marks forming on your sides.
As a few months passed you only grew worse. Some days you did nothing. Others, you tried to beat yourself into to shape, you compared yourself to others, you wanted to look brand new.
Sebastian had come over to your home unannounced, letting himself in with the spare key as you weren't answering your phone so he wasn't sure where you were. He found you upstairs, leaving your room.
"Uh hey Sebastian, what are you doing here?"
"Came looking for you" he paused, eyes trailing down your face, "Are you okay?"
You nodded, leading the way back down the stairs. "I'm good, why do you ask?"
"Well for starters you have a few um, marks on your face, and arms..." he trailed off, thinking for a moment.
You quickly displayed a smile, grabbing his hand, "I fell yesterday, I was running some errands and missed a step coming home. Don't worry about it"
He nodded, not believing a word of what you said. You both walked into the kitchen, him speaking almost instantly
"Have you eaten?"
"Yeah, I" you paused, as if recalling something "had some breakfast from the little cafe. Why you hungry?" you asked
He knew you didn't have breakfast, he knew you hadn't eaten in days, it was obvious. You reached up in a cabinet, looking for something to offer him. But when stretching your shirt came up just a tad, exposing your very bruised ribs to Sebastian.
"Alright Y/n, talk to me, what's going on with you?"
And that day, and everyday for weeks, he sat, listened, and coached you through any issues. He left, thinking you were on a better track , a few weeks later, but oh how wrong he was.
Another two months came and went, and Sebastian was on his way to your place, bringing you some dinner. When he walked in, he placed the food down in the kitchen and then walked upstairs, and there he found you once again hurting yourself. Punching yourself in the ribs. Without a second thought he rushed to you, grabbing your hands and wrapping them in his own.
"Hey, hey, stop. Please Y/n"
The man pleaded, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in the middle of your bedroom floor.
