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Summary
The familiar yet reassuring sting of clamping down on his own cheek until his teeth would perforate the soft squishy skin inside his mouth. The sharp twang of pain coupled with the bitter metallic taste flooding his mouth, reminding him he was in control.
He’d never truly understood addiction until the sweaty palms and agitation, until he would sooner tear his own skin off before he had to stop biting chunks away.
A toxic compulsion he knew better than to ever mention to anyone else, he knew it wasn’t normal, until Charles.