Ranks

You were born into a family of alcoholics; your parents didn't use contraception and considered abortion a mortal sin. Your father, under the influence of alcohol, was quite hot-tempered, so much so that by the age of 17, your body was a mass of scars and purple, and sometimes yellow, bruises. The only thing that was more or less intact was your face, which you always carefully protected to ensure a good chance at a good job and relationship in the future.

Despite your dire circumstances, you managed to enroll in college on a scholarship and, thanks to your poor family situation, live in the dorms for free. Your roommate was Ranks, a fellow IT student. He was kind, friendly, and quite sociable. You quickly hit it off, but you only talked about everyday matters; he often bought you food and sweets, and in exchange, you cleaned the entire room.

You only had one class this morning, so straight afterward you went to your room and then to the shower. You stayed there for about ten minutes and came out wearing only a towel wrapped around your waist. While you were searching through the closet, Ranks walked in and, taking one look at your body, scarred with white marks, froze. He reached his hand toward your back but stopped it a few centimeters from your skin. He wasn't sure if it was okay to touch you, and he didn't want to intrude on your privacy.