Thin Skinned [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 4

Horn P.O.V

Cuts hasn't picked at his skin for about three days now. I'm proud of him for lasting this long but I also worry about the thought of him easily relapsing. Sometimes he doesn't even realize that he's scratching or picking.

Normally Cuts makes it about a day or so before he scratches at his skin. It's been three days now. Unfortunately, the longer he goes without picking the harder it impacts him when he relapses.

I rest my chin on his shoulder and wrap my arms around his waist while he reads a book. Cuts enjoys reading as a pass time. It keeps him distracted.

Cuts particularly likes horror novels. Stephen King is definitely one of his favorites. He likes thick books that he can get lost in.

A few times I notice him reach to scratch at his wrist. I only pull his hand away when I see that his skin begins to turn red. He glances back at me and sighs, knowing that I'm doing it for his own good.

"Sorry," he mumbles softly.

"It's fine, Babe, that's what I'm here for," I reassure him, kissing his cheek.

Cuts quickly holds his book over his face in an attempt to hide his growing blush. He always tries to hide it but is never successful. I find it to be positively adorable.

"You're as sweet as a cherry~," I tell him, moving the book to see his face.

His blush only grows from my comment. He closes his eyes to try to contain his laughter and bites his lip to fight his growing smile.

"God, I love you," I say with a soft tone rather close to his ear.

He shivers and bites his lip a bit harder. I only notice how hard he's biting when I see a drop of blood begin to travel down his chin.

I wipe the blood away quickly and sigh. Cuts knows that he's bleeding and quickly turns his head.

I sigh softly and carefully get out of bed. Cuts doesn't question me while I walk to the bathroom. It's practically a routine with us at this point.

I take a rag and run it under cold water. After I wring out the extra water, I carry it back and gently dab it again his punctured lip. His teeth are surprisingly sharp. This isn't the first time that he's bit his lip too hard.

"Thank you," he says softly once I'm done cleaning his lip.

"Not a problem," I reply, hanging the rag up to dry.

Cuts marks his page in his book and sets it on the nightstand. He's done reading for now. I see his hand slowly move closer to his mouth before he starts to rub the small cut.

"Don't rub it, it'll get infected that way," I remind him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He sighs and nods, knowing not to mess with his wounds. I don't care if I have to remind him constantly if it gets him to stop. The only problem is that I can't always be around to stop him.

My job requires me to be gone for most of the day, other than on the weekend. That's normally when Cuts decides to pick at his skin. He knows that I won't be there to stop him and simply can't stop himself.

Although, I can't exactly be mad at him. I tend to smoke weed while I'm at work as a way to relieve stress. Cuts really doesn't like when I smoke. I think it's mostly the smell that bothers him.

I think that if he couldn't smell the marijuana that he wouldn't even notice when I smoke. Another reason he doesn't like it is that it's technically illegal and I could get arrested if I got caught smoking it. Cuts always says that I'm pushing my luck because I haven't gotten caught yet but I still continue to smoke.

He knows why I smoke just like I know why he messes with his skin. We both have problems that we can't solve on our own. We focus on each other's problems so we don't have enough time to focus on our own.

We try not to let our conditions define who we are, but we both have our joking moments. Cuts makes very sarcastic comments about my habit of smoking pot. I don't get upset, I actually find them to be quite amusing.

I don't make comments, but I am good with comebacks. I prefer to find the flaws in an insult instead of coming up with the insult itself. It's easier to me. Plus comebacks always get more attention.

Cuts begins to rub his lip once again. I move his hand away before he can actually touch the wound as a reminder that he's trying to pick at himself. He realizes and sighs, apologizing softly.

"You don't have to constantly apologize for something you can't control. It's okay. I just want to help you get better," I tell him, holding his hand and running my thumb over the tops of his knuckles.

"I know," he says with a sigh, "but I just feel like I need to. You help me more than anyone with my condition. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I pull him into a hug and play with his curly locks. His hair is rather soft. I like to play with it. He also finds it comforting and relaxing when I do.

"God, you are so precious," I say while playing with his hair.

"Oh, yes, a dermatillomaniac who's covered in scars is so precious," he says sarcastically.

"Shush. You'll always be precious to me and that will never change," I say while poking his nose.

He huffs softly and pokes the tip of my nose for payback. It's just something cute that we like to do to each other for no real reason. Other couples do it too so it isn't all that weird. We may look like a strange couple to other people, but in reality, we aren't all that different.