Love Shows When It's There

I woke up screaming in an empty bed, a nightmare taking over my dreams. I'd made Jack sleep in the spare room, unable to get back to being THAT close with him quite yet. I began to shake and cry as three pairs of footsteps ran to me.

"It's okay Lex, you're okay," I heard Jack's voice as he wrapped his arms around me. I pushed him away, curling up and crying more.
"Hey, hey. Lex. Shhh. You're okay," Zack's voice told me as strong arms wrapped around me. I leaned into Zack, hiccuping. I head a noise of pain coming for Jack, but I really couldn't care less at that point.
"Jack, go back to bed. We'll let you know how he is later," Matt said curtly.
"Mm..mmhmm," Jack replied and footsteps walked away.

I felt another dip in the bed as Matt sat down and started rubbing my back. I hiccuped and sobbed against Zack while Matt softly rubbed my back, reassuring me that I was safe and it was all a dream. An hour later, and I had managed to get my breath back in order and I had stopped crying.

I looked at the time to see it was half nine in the morning, so it was okay to get up. I thanked Zack and Matt and told them I was going for a shower, and they nodded, leaving me alone. I spent half an hour in the shower, just scrubbing at my skin. I felt beyond dirty. I felt like a waste of space. I felt like I didn't deserve happiness. But, as always, I put on a front for Zack and Matt because I didn't need them worrying about me.

Once out of the shower, not feeling any better than when I first went in, and dried and dressed, I went downstairs and got myself a glass of water. Jack was sitting, puffy eyed, on a stool at the island. I didn't stop for chit chat. I had forgiven him, but he had a while to go before I even started chit chatting again. I didn't feel like I could trust him and that was that.

I didn't eat at all that day. I wouldn't have been able to keep it down, and they didn't need to waste food on me so I just didn't eat. Every time I looked in a mirror, I felt disgusted and sick. God knows I wasn't worth anything. All I was good for was... well... ranting at. I suppose. Nothing else. Maybe sex. But even then, I probably wasn't that good. Not that I didn't deserve it.

Jack told me I deserved it, so I must have. He wouldn't ever lie to me, that's a promise we both made. To one another. No lies. Nothing that could hurt the other. That's why I knew I deserved it. Because Jack said I do. I couldn't handle it anymore. The pain, the thoughts, the constant replaying of it. Daniel would have been ashamed of it, but I turned to the only coping mechanism I knew of. Self harm.

I ran upstairs, took my razor out of its hiding place and pulled down my trousers. Three lines across the top of each leg was all it took for the pain and anger and suffering to lease off a little. I pulled my trousers back up once I was happy with the cuts bleeding time, and then I went back downstairs. From when Daniel died, I learned to hide the pain. From all but one person. And he was staring at me then. Looking me up and down for any sign, eyes narrowed.

Jack.