𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 ﾒ 𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘺

☼ chapter nine

She feels the stickiness of her shirt and winces as she tries to move her arm to look at the scratches. She slowly peels off her shirt, standing in front of the mirror in only her black lace bra and pajama shorts, her eyes scanning her reflection. Her body is covered in scars, some fresh, some old, but all of them reminding her of the horrors she had faced.

Her eyes trail down to her arms and belly, where the scars are the most prominent. Her own nails had dug into her skin during the nightmares, leaving deep and jagged marks all over her flesh. She moves her hand over her back, tracing the scars left by Ghostface's knife. It's such a stupid fucking thought that she would never admit to out loud, but she can't help but mourn for the body she used to have.

She shudders as she remembers that night, the first and last time she let a guy see her naked after the attack. She had gone out alone, wanting to escape the constant feeling of being watched and hunted. The alcohol and drugs had made everything hazy, and when the man had approached her, she hadn't cared about his age or intentions. She allowed him to take her to the nearest bathroom, like a lady.

But as he removed her clothes, she could see the disgust in his face when he felt the scars on her body. The way he cringed, and then stood back, looking at her ruined form before silently walking away, had felt like a physical blow to her already battered soul. It was a reminder that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to escape the scars of that night.

She would never be able to escape herself.

Tatum shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but the scars refuse to fade away from her vision. She takes a deep breath and reaches for a nearby towel, wiping the blood and sweat from her skin.

She doesn't hear him returning to the bedroom. Ethan is taken aback by the sudden sight of her bare skin, his face flushing red as he stammers out an apology, covering his eyes with the antiseptic and the clean cloth he was carrying. 

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to barge in on you like that. I should've knocked or something. I'm so sorry," he says.

She wants to hide and cover herself, but she also wants him to see what Ghostface did to her. She wants him to know what she's been through and to feel the pain and disgust she feels towards her own body. 

Part of her wants him to find her disgusting, to confirm her own self-loathing, but another part wants him to love her despite her scars, to see her as more than just a victim. She tells him he can look, her voice shaky with emotion, as he takes in the sight of her ruined body.

Feeling hurt is better than feeling nothing.

As Ethan lowers his hands from his eyes, Tatum watches him cautiously, waiting for a reaction. She's never felt more exposed, her scars on full display. She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks and her eyes threaten to water. 

Ethan is quiet for a moment, and Tatum starts to panic. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle.

Tatum nods, not trusting her voice. She feels exposed and vulnerable, her scars laid bare for the world to see. She can see the pity in Ethan's eyes, and it makes her feel even worse.

"I'll grab some ointment for the fresh scars, ok?" Ethan says, eyeing her up and down. "You shouldn't scratch yourself like that."

Tatum nods, feeling ashamed. She had promised herself that she wouldn't let the nightmares control her, but she had failed once again.

She'd been failing a whole lot for a really long time.

She begins to try to hide her body, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Tatum's eyes start to water and she tries to cover herself up with her arms. 

But then Ethan walks towards her, his eyes filled with concern and tenderness. He wraps his arms around her, and Tatum leans into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. 

She feels his fingers tracing the scars on her back, and she flinches. But instead of recoiling, Ethan continues his movements, gently trailing his fingers over her scars. Tate feels him place a soft kiss on her upper chest, where the oldest of all her scars was, a memento from when she took a nasty fall in elementary school. 

A tear rolls down her cheek as he whispers, "pretty", over and over again.

Tate looks up at him, shaking her head. "Don't lie," she asks, her voice shaking. "I don't need anyone's pity."

Ethan pulls back slightly, looking into her eyes. "I don't pity you. Just think you're pretty," He reaches up to wipe away another tear that has spilled over onto her cheek. "Scars and all."

She closes her eyes and breathes in the scent of his skin as he continues to trace the lines of her scars. She can feel his heart beating against her chest, the ghost of his lips on her shoulder.

Tatum feels the urgent need to kiss him, as if afraid that would be her last chance of doing so, and she does, softly at first, just a peck on his lips. 

"I'm sorry," she whispers when she pulls back, unsure.

Ethan seems to be taken aback for a moment before he pulls her closer and kisses her back, hungrily this time. "Don't be fucking sorry," he murmurs between kisses.  

His hands roam her back, caressing her scars and her skin, and Tate can't help but embarrassingly moan into the kiss. It makes her head spin.

Tate feels her heart pounding in her chest, but she doesn't want to stop. They continue to kiss, lost in the moment, until finally they pull back for air. 

Ethan looks at her, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions that Tatum couldn't decipher. 

"I've never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. Tate's heart skips a beat at his words, and she knows that this is just the beginning.

Nothing else mattered. Not the good, and definitely not the bad. The world had stopped spinning just for them.