Archive of Our Own ^beta

You had just arrived in France to meet up with your buddy Christian. You got off the plane and texted him.

You: Hey, I'm at the airport, can you come pick me up?

Chris: Yeah sure, omw

You: See ya then.

You sat there until you saw Christian. You got your bags and you walked to Christian's car. You opened the car door. "Heya, how are you?" "Mm... I'm fine." Something was a little off about him today, but you couldn't figure it out. "Uh, no, 'how are you?'" Christian sighed. "Sorry, I'm just... How are you?" You nodded. "I'm alright."

What really made you question everything was that Christian was wearing a sweatshirt. This was significant in two ways:

1: It was the middle of the summer and blazing hot.

2: Christian never wore sweatshirts unless it was colder than -5°F.

"Why are you wearing a sweatshirt-" "Cause I can, Y/N." He snapped at you quite rudely. You backed off as you looked down at your lap. He had a stern look on his face and his knuckles were white from gripping the wheel so hard.

"Sorry." You said. He sighed and focused on the road ahead of him. "You're not usually quiet like this. Is everything alright-" "I said everything is fine!" He yelled. "Please stop dragging it out, Y/N!" You looked down again. You sighed in defeat. You never want to see your friend like this. 

Truth is, you want to see him happy all the time. You want to make him smile as he hugs you and holds you close. You felt as if you were a perfect match for Christian. 

"Hey, we're home, Y/N. Get your bags." He got out of the car and shut the door. You grabbed your bags and you shut your door as well. Christian locked his car and opened the door to the house.

You set your bags down as you sat on the couch with Christian. "It's roasting in here, Christian. Are you sure you don't want me to-" "Yes, I'm fine." You then noticed that he was scratching his wrists very often.

"You alright? Your scratching your wrists." "I'm fine. There was poison ivy in my garden and I had to get rid of it." You looked at him questionably. "Why weren't you wearing gloves?" Christian looked at you and scratched his wrists more. "I didn't know it was poison ivy." "You always wear gloves-" You then looked at Christian's nails, stained with blood.

"Oh my god, you're making yourself bleed!" He turned red and looked at his nails. "Oh, it's okay! There's nothing to be concerned about!" "Let me see!" You grabbed his wrist as he winced in pain. "Get off!" You two fought and you finally pulled his sleeve down as you gasped.

"That's more than poison ivy, Chris. What happened?" "It's nothing!" Christian lied. "These look fresh, so it had to have happened recently, these however, look months old..." That's when it finally hit, and you looked at Christian worriedly. "Are you cutting yourself?" "What? No, Y/N, that's impossible." 

You frowned. "Please, be honest. I won't be mad, Chris. I can help you, or I can see if I can get you the help you need." "I don't need any help, Y/N." Christian looked down. "You obviously do need help if you're cutting yourself..." Christian looked at you with an angry expression. "I'm not cutting myself Y/N!" "Yes you are, I know it! Why can't you be honest?" He poked your chest roughly. "Why can't YOU shut the fuck up and leave me alone, bitch!" 

Your surprise to the statement turned to sadness as you sulked on the couch and started to cry. "A-Alright... Sorry for t-trying to help you then..." His anger turned to regret as he realized what he just said to you. "Y/N I-I didn't mean to-" "I-Its alright... I should have kept my mouth shut and minded my own b-business..." 

You wiped your tears with your shirt as you started crying. Christian got up from the couch and went upstairs. You never wanted this to happen. You heard Christian's door slam shut. You quietly crept upstairs to see what he was doing. 

You looked through the peephole of his door. Not to your surprise he's trying to cut himself again. You open his door with a razor against his wrist and pain written in his eyes. "So you're just gonna do this then, huh?" "I'm sorry, just leave me alone before I end up hurting you too." 

You stood in the doorway, looking at him. "Are you harming yourself because I'm not a good enough friend?" Christian looked at you with concern. "What? No, Y/N. You're a great friend..." You sniffled. "Sure explains why you yelled at me and called me a bitch earlier..." Christian angrily put the razor on his bedside table and walked up to you. "No, I- I didn't mean any of that. I was saying stupid shit and none of it is true."

He held onto you and walked you towards the bed where you both sat down. "We... We both have things we need to work on." His face turned red as he looked at you with that signature shy smile. "I'll make you a deal, okay?" You looked at him. "Hm?" He held onto you. "I'll stop cutting myself, alright. But only if..." You tilted your head. "Only if?"

That's when you found yourself being kissed gently by Christian. You found yourself in utter shock as his hands trailed to your face as he pulled you closer. Your hands found their way to his hair as you two pulled away for air.

"C-Christian, I..." You smiled and hugged him gently. He hugged you too. The scars will last forever, but so will your bond with Christian.

And sometimes, that's really all that matters in life.