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The splish-splash of the bath was a calming noise to you.
The distorted, foggy way your hands looked underneath the water was aesthetically pleasing for your eyes to look at. Your painted nails contrasted the water nicely. The feeling of the hot water pinching ever-so-softly at your skin made you want to sink deeper in, but you stayed sitting with your legs bent slightly towards you, the ends of your hair damp and dripping with the water in the tub.
Your hands cupped at the water, raising them above the waterline only for the pool you made with your palms to empty into the abyss of much more water.
The way your hands seemed weightless, only slightly delayed in the water as you swished them around in the bathtub.
You glanced down at your forearm and felt like crying again, a soft cringe painting your face with visible emotion: pain.
A shaky breath did its best to empty itself from your lips when you looked into, but past the water, at your naked thighs.
Those horrible memories. The bullying, the depression, that abyss-like feeling of loneliness. You developed an unconscious need to be near someone from your feeling of being watched.
All of your friends had turned against you. All of them. All the people you trusted, all the people you vented your feelings to. They all turned against you because of a whispered rumor that seemed so stupid and thoughtless to you, but they took their shot at you with it.
You turned to no one.
There was no one there.
There wasn't anyone there.
Anyone you knew.
Anyone you loved.
Anyone you trusted with your seemingly pointless life.
Back then, you were confident. You were the peacemaker, showering everyone you knew with love whenever you could, keeping in mind that they could disappear at any moment.
but, they never did the same. at this point, you were the one wanting to disappear whenever you could.
The ugly scars that painted your arms and legs frustrated you so much. Even when you caked yourself with makeup, you could still see them. It's like they glowed. But, it was only because you knew what you were looking for.
Your fingers traced the scars on your thighs, beginning to dig and scratch into them. Even now, after everything, after everyone took their stab at you, it was still so depressing.
Something new dropped into the water, tears from your face streaming down your cheeks and chin quickly, making tiny splashes into the water.
You choked out a sob, covering your face with your scarred hands that were painted and tainted with cigarette burns.
Your teeth clenched hard. You wish the liquid falling into the water was blood draining from your body.
Your back pressed up against the diagonal part of the tub. It was like a perfect uncomfortable bed for you as you scratched at your hair and pulled at your face.
You felt disgusting.
You felt horrible.
Did you even deserve to be alive?
..
.....
A soft sound of a door creaking open filled the room, falling upon your barely-conscious ears.
You stirred in your sleep, little tears still trailing down your jaw.
"Oh..I wondered why you were taking so long."
That charming voice was so beautiful.
It was him.
Shoto.
He popped into your life at the perfect time, shining so bright in the darkness of the abyss.
It's almost like he could read into your life story, trying his hardest to become close to you. It's like he knew how much you were hurting.
He closed the door and locked it behind him, resisting the urge to draw something in the mirror.
Shoto stripped off his clothing, shedding it onto the floor before stepping into the water with you.
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound, opening your eyes to see him sitting down directly in front of you in the tub.
Your breathing hitched for a moment, slowing back down when you saw his pretty face.
"I-I'm sorry, I'll get dressed..-" You started, only for the oh-so-pretty boy to put his hand on your shoulder, stopping you from getting up any further.
"No, stop. It's fine."
He smiled. "You always take this long when you're upset. You were thinking about the incident, right?"
You looked away from his gaze, breaking that precious eye-contact.
His thumb rubbed your shoulder, pulling his hand away briefly to place both on the sides of your face.
"Look at me, [Y/N]."
You refused, a single tear slipping out as your brows upturned a little.
"Please."
Just that little beg did it for you. You forced yourself to make eye-contact with him. He gave you a pity-filled smile.
"Why are you here?" You asked.
He laughed softly. "Because I love you. And only you,"
"I care about you."
Shoto leaned forward, his eyes slowly closing as his lips met yours.
It was a long, beautiful moment.
"Don't think otherwise."