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Marcy's head dropped to the pillow, whimpering.
She had been getting better. Day of work, hours of practice, trying to love herself, trying to be able to face herself in the mirror.
But today she couldn't.
She clutched the shirt in her shaking hands, trying to blink back tears. No, no, why was she crying over this?
"Mar Mar?"
The bed shifted and Sasha sat down next to her. She placed a warm hand on Marcy's shoulder. Marcy coughed.
"M okay," she whispered.
Sasha reached around her, grabbing the shirt. She rubbed her back, very gentle with her scar. She leaned down and pressed kisses to Marcy's bare shoulders. "C'mere sit up."
Marcy very shakily pushed herself up, eyes shut against the panic-inducing mirror.
"It's okay, I've got you, I've got you," Sasha said gently. She kissed Marcy's forehead, then her nose. "Arms up." Marcy complied, raising her arms as much as she could. Sasha helped her into the shirt, letting the loose fabric fall around her. "There we go," Sasha said as she kissed Marcy's cheek.
Marcy pouted. Sasha giggled. She rested a hand on the side of Marcy's face and pulled her gently, bringing her in for a soft kiss. Marcy smiled into it, almost forgetting what she saw in the mirror.
When they pulled away, Sasha wrapped her arms around Marcy and hugged her against her chest. She threaded her fingers through Marcy's hair, brushing back the soft black locks. She hummed, twirling the strands absentmindedly.
Marcy looked down, eyes falling to something on Sasha's bare leg, uncovered by her shorts.
"How'd you get that one?" Marcy asked, tracing a finger over the scar. It was a pale white color, faded with time and healed well. Sasha glanced down, pulled from her own head.
"I crashed my bike into a fence when I was seven," Sasha said after a moment. She laughed. Marcy cracked a smile.
"And you said I was the clumsy one," she giggled. Sasha kissed the top of her head, blowing a soft raspberry into her hair. Marcy laughed, turning more into Sasha and resting her head under her chin.
Sasha moved her leg. "See that one? On my ankle?" Marcy looked down curiously.
"Ooh, yeah." It was a small collection of scars that looked like they came from a bite mark.
"Got that one from cheer. I think that girl had a vendetta against me or something," Sasha explained.
"She bit you?!"
Sasha laughed. "No, those are nail marks. I fell out of a pyramid and the base's grip was far too tight. I bled for a while ." Sasha rolled her eyes at the memory.
"Wow." Marcy tapped on one of the little scars, then rolled up Sasha's sock to cover it gently.
Sasha smiled, watching the action. "So sweet, Mar Mar. My sweet girl," she said fondly, kissing her hair again. Marcy blushed and giggled. She looked up at Sasha with wide eyes.
"How about this one?" she asked, reaching up and touching a scar beneath Sasha's hairline. Sasha's smile faded. Marcy gasped. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to!!"
Sasha shook her head. "No, it's okay." She sighed. "I got that one when my dad threw a vase at the wall and a shard cut me." Sasha looked down, refusing to meet Marcy's eyes. Marcy bit her lip. She finally rolled up her sleeve.
"I got this one when my dad broke a plate…" She ran her finger over a slash in her wrist, a few years old at this point.
Sasha frowned. She placed her hand over Marcy's. "Our parents suck," she whispered.
"Yeah…" Marcy said solemnly.
Sasha bit her lip, thinking. Finally, she moved her arm. "Hey, look at this one," she said, more cheerful. Marcy looked up.
The scar was on the inner skin of her forearm. "I remember that," Marcy said, giggling.
"Yeah? That was when Anne first got Domino." Sasha smiled.
"You tried to carry her around and she scratched you so hard," Marcy said, trying not to laugh. Sasha nodded.
"Oh god, it hurt so bad. What were we, ten?"
Marcy nodded. "Something like that." Marcy leaned down, kissing the cat scratch scar.
Sasha smiled.They were both a little broken, both a little more than damaged, but somehow, they made it work. And she wouldn't trade that for the world.