The Plan | l.r.h

twenty-seven

Ryan's POV

When Luke came into my room last night, I knew then that he wouldn't let me break his heart. No matter what, he would always love me and continue to show me every day. And I knew then, that he was my home and he would forever be my safe place.

We were lying in bed naked, our legs and bodies intertwined in each other's. I was still high off of what happened the night before, and I knew he was too. It was everything I could have imagined and more; it was perfect.

He was running his hands all over my body, feeling every inch and crevice. He wanted to know everything about me, every surface physically and mentally. His hand started trailing down the side of stomach to my thigh and I realized where he was headed. I started to panic and tried to grab his hand, but he already felt it.

"What's that? Those bumps?" He asked, trying to pull the sheets off of me.

"Luke, please." I breathed, grabbing the sheets to cover myself, but he was too strong. He pulled them off and saw the white lines covering my thighs. His eyes scrambled for mine, confusion and sadness washing over his face. "It's nothing. Seriously." I searched for words but couldn't find any. I tried to get up, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back beside him.

"How did you get these scars?" He asked, carefully. I couldn't look at him, couldn't make eye contact with him. "Ryan...?" he spoke to get my attention. My mind was a pool and my thoughts were swimming around. I couldn't find any words, I didn't have any. How was I supposed to explain to him that I hated myself so much that I cut myself? And that I almost did it again last night?

"I took apart the blades from my pencil sharpener when I was in high school." There were no other words I could think of.

"You did this to yourself?" He breathed, hopelessly with desperation in his voice. When I nodded, a tear fell out of his eye. "I'm so sorry that you were in such a bad place that you thought hurting yourself was the only solution. And I'm sorry I couldn't help you." Hearing this made my heart ache. When I didn't respond, he asked, "why did you...?"

I took a deep breath and tried to find my words, bracing myself for this tough conversation. "When I was sixteen, after I moved to Australia, I was bullied a lot in school. I was the shy kid with weird hair colours and no friends. I guess I thought it would make me feel better, give me relief. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to live anymore, but I couldn't die. So, instead, I hurt myself." I paused, trying to catch my breath while I cried. "I stopped when I was nineteen. B-but when Noah... I thought about it but I didn't..." I couldn't continue, I could barely breathe. Luke held me close to him and rubbed small circles on my back.

"Have you thought about it since...?" I know it pained him to even think about. It tore me apart even talking about it. But he wanted to know, so I needed to tell him.

"Last night... I almost did. I wanted to, so bad. But the thought of you... it stopped me. You helped me." There were tears in both of our eyes and we were both crying. "Please don't leave me." I begged, scared that he wouldn't be able to handle it and break up with me.

"Everything I said last night, I still mean it. I'm never going to leave you." He paused, looking deep into my eyes. "I will help you get better every day for the rest of my life. But, promise me, if you ever get the urge, call me."

"Okay." I agreed, placing my lips softly on his.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, wiping my tears and brushing my hair out of my face. "I love you, Ryan." He pulled me closer to his body, even though we were as close as possible, and kissed my forehead.

"I know."