Megan Skiendiel #17

Megan never paid much attention to those little details: you always wore oversized sweatshirts, you always changed in the bathroom when you managed to spend a night together. She thought it was typical of you, especially with her life in Katseye completely consuming her. Two years of dating and she was still getting to know you little by little.

That morning, the dorms were unusually quiet; the other girls were sleeping in. Megan had taken advantage of a quiet moment, snuggling up next to you on the sofa as you dozed. Her arm was around your torso, and her fingers were absentmindedly tracing the hem of your shirt. She lifted it just enough so she could feel the faint marks on your chest. Her hand stopped. Scars. Straight, faint, deliberate.

She froze, realizing the truth. A lump formed in her throat, not from judgment, but from a pang of guilt. How could she have missed it? How could she have been so absorbed in rehearsals, returns, and travel that she hadn't noticed something so important about the person she loved?

Seeing your sleeping face, his chest softened. He kissed your temple gently and whispered in your ear, "I love you. Always. I should have paid more attention. "

When you woke up, blinking, her smile remained unchanged. "We'll talk later, okay? Just... you need to know that you don't have to hide from me. Ever. "