XPLR | Colby Brock

~92~

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF HARM.

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I've hated showering for a long time. Not because I didn't like getting clean or smelling good, I put a lot of care into my hygiene routines, but because I couldn't stand seeing myself naked.

I got home around midnight, and Sam and Colby weren't home yet. Much to my dismay. I'm ready see my boyfriend. I want him to wrap his arms around me, and whisper in my ear everything he loves about me... or just lay awake telling me stories about him and Sam in high school, their old videos and experiences, the tour...

I love that boy so much.

I love the way that he smiles. How his eyes turn up at the corners and he squints a bit, and how when he's embarrassed he laughs. That look on his face whenever he's working on something, or he rubs his eyes. He could never work for that long when I'm around, before he would turn right back around and crawl into bed with me.

Sometimes when he's sad, he would just lay on his side and rest one arm over me, and bury his face in my neck. Just fall asleep there.

There's so much in him, so much devoted to me and our relationship. Any duplicitous and deceitful actions he would do I know would be mostly done by a third party. Colby's human, a human male (which doesn't exactly excuse him, but you get what I mean), and he makes mistakes. But I can see it in his eyes, how much he loves me.

I locked the door, not being afraid to shower since neither Sam or Colby were home and this was pretty much their bathroom. I stripped down, and I stopped in front of the large mirror. Looking at my body, my stomach, hips, thighs. My figure is amazing. I have an admirable body, different than Elena's, that's for sure. If I put myself out there like she did, I'm sure more guys would be lusting over me than her.

I reached up behind my head and reached down, starting to untie my braid. My naturally wavy hair was extra curly, crimped into tight ringlets.

It rested over my shoulders, side parted.

"I love your hair," Colby said once he pulled away from a rather intense kiss. His hand was tangled in my hair, and his lips were red with passion and warmth. My hand ran along his chest and rested there.

I grinned a bit at that memory.

I looked down at my hands, my hands that have served me so much. A lifetime of work have and will be put into them, and I'll thank god for them forever. It reminded me of when Colby hurt his wrist.

"I guess... I just want to say thank you," Sam had said. "For a long time Colby hadn't been... okay, I guess. "Okay" is the only way to put it. He wasn't very much into videos anymore and he was even talking about quitting YouTube and "finding" himself. Then he met you. He was totally different within days."

That was a good night and a bad night, and the morning was worse. But Colby told Elena off, and I believed him.

"-Straight. Rose is my girlfriend. I love her. So whatever you thought we had is nothing now. All I care about is Rose and our relationship. So after this, no more voicemails. No more calls. No more texts. She won't say it, but you're hurting her. You're hurting Rose a lot, Elena."

Elena doesn't care. I was in the way of what she wants.

I avoided looking too closely at my body in the mirror. Up close, there's so much that no one has seen. Not even Colby has seen the entirety of it. Most of the time an article of clothing or two was missing, it was mostly in the dark. He wouldn't see the scars if he was looking.

It was long since quiet inside the Romano household. Lars Romano was missing from the home, he was drinking at the bar. And for once, Rose wasn't mad at him for leaving.

She'd been crying, crying for hours, curled up in her bed under her covers, clutching the cat plush she'd been gifted by her mother. Sobbing, and calling out for her mother to comfort her. But her mother would never come, ever again.

"Momma, please... please come back. Please. Please, I'm so Sorry," Rose repeated over and over again until her voice was hoarse and dry, and she couldn't breathe anymore.

Rose had reached her limit, and she was suddenly crying. She had no tears left to cry. She walked towards the kitchen, turned on the faucet and drank straight from it with her hands. She was still wearing her black dress from the concert, but her hair was tied lazily up behind her head.

She turned around and leaned against the counter, looking around the kitchen. She could still smell the meals her mother and her would cook. "Everyone needs to learn how to cook, for herself the most. When you're sad, sometimes a hot meal is what you need to cheer yourself up. But no one is ever going to be there for you when you need them, so you have to learn to look after yourself."

Had she been planning... the accident.. since the beginning?

Too tired to think about that now, Rose walked towards the drawer and opened it, slipping out a knife. She held it too her side, so tight her knuckles turned white.

She walked into the bathroom and opened the door, slipping inside. She took the knife, pressed it to her skin, and pushing it in deeper underneath each layer until the bled. Several lines. Everywhere. Her wrists, thighs, hips.

It hurt, yes, but not as bad as the sudden abandonment from her mother.

God.

I ran my hands over the scars on my hips, nothing more than discolored lines five years later.

The only one I can trust with that story is Colby. Elena had broken my trust what feels like centuries ago.

I won't make that mistake again.