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Summary: An explanation for the past isn't always necessary between you and Dom
Trigger Warning: Severe mentions of self harm and cutting on Dom's behalf, talk about Dom's past (growing up with domestic abuse, drinking, etc), Y/N finds out about Dom's past self harming
If any of the themes disclosed above are too triggering, then please do not read this imagine. Your wellbeing comes first - Lana 🤍
Word Count: 3,500
Dom's POV
It's not just abstinence that's the reason I don't like being shirtless around people, if it's ever an avoidable situation.
It hides the state of my right arm and all along my right shoulder. It goes from all along my shoulder blade, all the ways down to my forearm, is covered in scarring. My arms are covered in them. I hate looking at it.
I know I'm shirtless a fair amount, but scars are fairly easy to cover. For the most part, they are. Use a foundation to cover them, or I'd usually end up asking any photographer for any photoshooter editor, and ask them to edit it out.
Usually, they end up obliging.
I never wants Y/N to find out about my past of what I've done, hurting myself. I needed to move to London by the time that I was 16 years old. I was so fucking young when I moved, but I was going to lose my mind if I didn't move.
The only perk of my living situation in London was at least I wasn't coming home to an abusive situation. I was coming home to a good friend, and occasionally Lewis would be over at the house when I came home.
We were living about a flat in West London, and, in every sense of the world, I absolutely let myself go. I did everything I could possibly do to let myself go. I experimented with drink, drugs and sex.
But it wasn't romantic. I shouldn't have been legally allowed to drink, but of course I did it anyways. Sex was a way to express myself, and appearance wise, I experimented.
I'd walk around Central London wearing skirts, and eyeliner, and painted nails and dresses. I wasn't in Doncaster anymore, I was in London, and barely anyone gave a fuck what I did.
I wasn't relevant as I stood outside a corner shop in fishnets, asking someone to buy me a bottle of vodka, I wasn't relevant to the guy who's house I'd gone to after going to an underground gig to hook up.
I was almost invisible. I was almost alone in the world. Thank God I had Adam, or else I'd have done something truly stupid.
But, I was also alone the majority of the time. Adam was the one working as we just immediately moved in. I was trying to make the music career work, but it was getting difficult. I was getting rejection after rejection.
And I couldn't shake anything and everything that had happened to me. The way my Dad would hurt my Mum when I was younger, and I had to protect and defend my sisters from what was going on.
