Thin Skinned [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 7

Horn P.O.V

"Come on, Babe, we're going out," I tell Cuts while pulling the covers down from his face.

He groans softly in protest and tries to grab the blankets to cover himself once again but I don't let him.

"I don't want to," he whines and holds his pillow over his face so it muffles his voice.

I roll my eyes and scoop him up. He whines and lets his body go limp in my arms. Cuts does practically anything to avoid social interaction.

"I told you we were going out today and you were fine with it," I remind him.

"I was half asleep from the sex. I would have agreed to anything."

"You still agreed, no backing out," I tell him.

I drop him back on the bed to wake him up since he was still half asleep. He lays there with his arms crossed.

"You're a pain in my ass, in more ways than one," he says in a serious tone even though I know he's trying to be funny.

Cuts cracks a smile as I chuckle softly. He sits up and stretches, humming softly to himself.

"Get dressed so we can leave," I tell him while pulling on a shirt.

"You haven't even told me where you're planning to take me. How am I supposed to know what I should wear?"

I think for a few moments before heading to the closet. Cuts' side is very organized due to his obsessive compulsive disorder. His shirts are all hanging neatly and have been sorted by color. The farther you go in a color the darker the shade he has.

I pick out one of his grey tank tops and a pair of skinny jeans that are only a shade or so darker with rips at the knees that I know he likes. He sees my selection and looks up at me with furrowed brows.

"I'd rather not wear a tank top if we're going somewhere with a lot of people," he admits softly while rubbing his arms.

I stop him before he can do any real harm and kiss his knuckles gently. He smiles and his pale skin becomes a soft shade of pink. It's similar to the pink you would find in the nursery of a newborn baby girl. It looks adorable on him.

"There won't be a lot of people," I reassure him.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

With that, he gets dressed and tames his curly ginger locks into a decent state. I still haven't told him where we are going and I know that it annoys him. He wants to know so he can begin mentally preparing for at least ten different scenarios.

Cuts has some rough social anxiety to top off all his other issues. He definitely has it rough. He despises the outside world for so many reasons. If it were possible, I'm sure he would never leave the apartment. He would stay inside at all times and eventually go mad from the same routine playing on a loop.

He once told me of a dream he had that was exactly like that. It scared him because he could see it as a definite possibility in his mind. After that, he went outside for the first time in two weeks. After about an hour, he came back with skin as red as a ripened strawberry. It was another three weeks before he wanted to go out again.

"We won't be out long will we?" he asks. "I don't want to burn."

"Put on some sunscreen then. We're going on a walk," I tell him.

He sighs and drags his feet to the bathroom. He detests sunscreen but burns without it. I help him apply sunscreen to his shoulder blades and the back of his neck since neither are covered by his shirt. Those are a couple of places that he burns the worst.

Cuts is very cautious with the sunscreen when he is close to his bandages. He doesn't want to get any in his wounds. He did once and he said it burnt like hell. That's also why he refuses to use spray-on sunscreen.

Once he's done, he slips on his sneakers and quickly ties the laces in a quick bow. His Converse are no longer the bright red that they used to be. He wears them until they're scuffed and faded beyond repair. He likes when they look worn in.

I always preferred to stick with the classic black Converse. They didn't draw a lot of attention and were honestly my favorite.

I slide them on and tie the frayed laces before standing and leading Cuts out. It's obvious that he doesn't like the thought of being outside for long periods of time, or at all for that matter.

A few people glance at him or give him strange looks as we walk. He draws attention to himself by being covered in bandages. It makes him feel insecure and he forces himself to stare at the ground as we walk.

"Don't listen to them, Baby. You are perfect just the way you are," I tell him.

He sighs softly. "Perfection is an unachievable concept," he mumbles softly.

Cuts never exactly did like the use of the word perfection. In reality, he is correct. Perfection is only a concept that can never truly be reached.

"Okay, you're amazing, handsome, beautiful, gorgeous, etcetera." I would keep going if I had the time.

The important thing is, Cuts understands my point and smiles. He likes when I compliment him, especially in public. It takes his mind off of other people's opinions.

I pull him out onto the dock of a small lake and we stare at the water for a few moments. A few fish swim by, accompanied by a few turtles.

"So, why are we out here?" he asks after a moment.

Cuts is not implying that he does not enjoy it here. He does. He thinks the pond is simply beautiful, especially at sunset when the light bounces off the water. But that isn't the reason I brought him here.

"I wanted to ask you something important," I explain.

He looks at me with a slightly concerned look. Cuts is always quick to assume that something bad is happening. It's just his nature.

"What is it?" he asks cautiously.

"Will you marry me?"