It All Started With a Diary

fighting it|part 2

Kade's head tilted, his lips growing into a frown before he let his expression still. Slowly, he pulled me closer and closer until we were mere inches apart.

"I'm glad I saw them," he said. "I want to see all versions of you, scarred, flawless, broken, happy...I want to see you." His voice shook under his confession as he ran a hand down the length of my arm. "You're beautiful in every version."

"Please don't," he murmured to me, his expression darkening. "Don't do that to yourself, sweetheart. I can't stand the thought of you hitting a—" his throat bobbed under the thought as he shut his eyes, shaking his head. "I don't care what time it is, or what's going on. If you get the urge, just talk to me. Talk to me, sweetheart, okay?"

"I won't," I replied, nodding slowly. "I promise I won't." Even before this, I had promised to myself that I wouldn't touch the blade again. If it ever got to that point again, I'd talk to my dad or Ryland. I couldn't fall that deep again. The only thing that I could do from here was try my hardest, that was all I could do.

I'd never thought of it in the way he said. To kiss my scars for what they were, because they were already there. They were already there, but they could be seen in many forms. Perhaps because I was strong, perhaps because I wasn't. There was nothing I could do to erase them, and if I dwindled on the guilt too long, they'd reopen. I couldn't let that happen; I had to keep going.

I went to swipe at the tears, but was beat to it. His rough hands released me to catch the tears before entrapping my face.

His expression was rock hard with seriousness. "You're so fucking strong, Kimberly. You know that, right?"

My lips rose into a smile. "I'm faking it, honestly."

"You're succeeding."

I shrugged, feeling the tension grow lighter. "If you think so."

Kade pursed his lips down at me, scowling. He obviously didn't like my answer. Without a word, he let his hands fall from me.

I stared in confusion as he pulled his shirt off. I caught sight of his V-line, before he walked into his bathroom. I continued to watch his weird actions, frightened slightly. Out of all of the events, this wasn't what I expected.

Moments passed before he repeated in my line of view. "Come closer," he said as he made his way back over to the bed.

I did so, taken aback as he placed a container into my hand. "What are you doing?"

"Just do what I say," he whispered, his head hanging. "Please."

His hands wrapped around my legs, pulling me closer until I was facing directly into his back. I had been so trapped with him, I hadn't noticed. Until my eyes fell.

My fingers curled around my mouth as I gasped. Long, deep scars and marks stretched across his back. Every inch was covered, all blended into a mesh of stories and tarted skin.

Kade's body was tense, and he was shaking. He was afraid to show me.

One arm stretched back, motioning toward a spot onto his back. Somehow, I pulled my eyes from the back of his head to glance to it.

"Start here," he mumbled. "Trace them."

His finger was planted on an aging bruise, with what looked like a cigarette butt. My insides grew hard at it.

"Y-you can touch it," he said. "Just go slow. Please."

Since we were right in front of his door, which held a body mirror on the back, I could see what he didn't allow. I caught his distraught stature, eyes squeezed shut and lips into a thin line. I watched for a moment longer before letting the tip of my finger graze the skin.