Help-MC

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YOUR POV

I was on the couch procrastinating. I needed to get up and shower before Michael got home. It gave me time to find out what I was going to wear. Well.... Find what shirt would cover my scars. I had them on my sides and thighs. I've been doing this for years, and not once have I ever mentioned it to Michael in the two years we have been together.

I did it because I hate myself. My family always criticizes my personality. I guess I'm not good enough for them. That and countless other reasons like my weight, my intelligence, and the hate from most fans.

And I never told Michael because I was afraid he'd leave me. Because I was too much of a mess for him. I honestly don't know how he hasn't seen that yet. And so no, he has not seen me without clothes on for fear of seeing my cuts and scars, and my insecurities.

I finally stood up and walked to the bathroom. I turned on the water and waited for it to get hot. I stripped out of my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. "You're disgusting," I muttered to myself. I got into the shower and let the water cascade down my body. The hot water made my wounds sting, but I knew I deserved the pain.

When I got out, I dried myself off and stepped into the bedroom I shared with Michael. I pulled out a pair of jeans, and one of his t-shirts that was relatively long on me. After I finished putting my bra and panties on, someone walked into the room. "Hey, (y/n). I got home ear-" Michael stopped in his tracks and stared at me. My skin was exposed, which meant my wounds were exposed. He continued to stare at me, then I grabbed the towel that was laying on the bed to cover my body. It was hard to read, but it looked like Michael's expression was half shock, half hurt.

"Michael! Get out! I'm changing," I shouted.

"S-sorry," he turned away, his hand still on the doorknob. "I'll just be in the lounge room."

When he shut the door, I collapsed to the floor. That is not what I wanted to happen. I knew he saw them. I knew that's what he was looking at. And he left the room so easily. He didn't stay to say anything. Maybe he is going to leave me? My worst nightmare is coming true.

"Fuck," I whispered before tears fell. I let them fall as I dressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walked down to the kitchen after about fifteen minutes of sobbing. I had washed my face off so it wasn't noticeable. I stepped into the kitchen for a water bottle and found Michael sitting at the dining table. I didn't say a word to him. I opened the fridge and got my water. I took a small sip from the bottle and felt a pair of arms snake around my waist from behind. Michael kissed my shoulder, then turned me to face him. He kissed my lips softly and then pulled me close and held me tight. He was acting normal. Maybe he didn't stare at my cuts.

"How was your day, my love," he asked, staring into my eyes. I was caught in his gaze and couldn't turn away.

"Fine," I lied. My voice was barely a whisper. There was something about Michael that just made me weak for him.

"It's movie night," he mentioned. "Let's go get cozy." He took my hand and lead me to the couch. We settled in our normal seats and snuggled close to each other. We searched through netflix until we found the right movie. When it ended, we headed up to bed. Michael went to use the restroom, so I used that as my opportunity to change into pajama pants.

Once we were both in bed, we spooned, Michael pulling me as close to him as possible. Just as I was ready to drift off, Michael spoke, "Why did you do it?"

My heart stopped. "Do what?"

"Don't act like I didn't see anything. They're all over your sides and legs," he said, his hand traveling up my side to feel the marks that were there. I felt tears forming in my eyes. I didn't know what to say. "(y/n)," Michael pleaded.  I still didn't answer. He rolled me over so that I was facing him. Once he realized I was crying, he wiped away my tears. I tried to look away but he lifted my chin, "Hey. Talk to me," he said softly. "Why?"

"A lot of reasons," I mumbled, still trying to find the words to say.

"Like?"

"My... my family mostly. They criticize me. My personality, my wardrobe, my life... basically everything. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't see a look of regret in my parents eyes when they look at me. I'm not good enough for them. And that hurts more than anybody could possibly imagine. I'm a fucked up wreck, and honestly, I'm surprised you stayed with me this long. I wouldn't blame you if you-"

"Don't you say it. Don't you fucking say it, (y/n). I love you for you. Flaws and all. And if your family can't do that, you know damn well I won't stop. You were not put on this planet to please anybody but yourself. You don't have to conform to whatever they want you to be. You conform yourself to what you want to be. I love you the way you are. Hurting yourself will only become a problem. It may seem like it takes the pain away, but it really doesn't. It only feels like it does because you are letting yourself think that.

I love you,  and you know I love you. You are beautiful inside and out no matter what anybody says. I am here to help you through anything and everything." He paused and kissed my forehead. "We'll get through this together. Don't be afraid to come to me when you need something, okay?"

I nodded my head, tears still falling.

"Come here," he said. I looked up at his green eyes and they showed nothing but love and comfort. I moved closer to him and rested my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. "I love you so fucking much, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Mikey."

"Get some sleep, and we will talk when we wake up."

I nodded my head and he kissed my hair before we both fell into a much needed sleep.

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