I look at the picture again. I'd quite like to smack whoever took it. Rayn's sat behind me, with his chin on my shoulder and his limbs tangled around my waist, looking at the picture too.
"I don't think he believed me, when I said it's just how you are," I sigh, chucking my phone down the other end of the sofa. He strokes my hair like I'm a cat or something and for once, manages to keep his mouth shut. I groan quietly. Leaning back on him and squashing him back into the sofa. He wriggles a bit til he's comfy and settles back down again. "I'm genuinely amazed the guy somehow finds it in him to put up with me. I've fucked up too many times." Rayn just keeps stroking my hair, shaking with silent giggles.
"You soppy cunt. I'm surprised you haven't showered him in roses and shit yet. Or did you already do that?" He bites his lip, trying to keep his giggles quiet. I dig my elbow into his ribs and he pouts, whining. "That was uncalled for."
"That was totally called for. Your obsession with physical contact might've just destroyed my only healthy relationship ever for good this time." He wriggles out from behind me, opening up the laptop on the table. I sort of watch warily as he opens my facebook page, but honestly, what more damage can be done?
Surprisingly, he logs out of my account and into his own, finding Kyle's profile through mine. He considers it for a minute before private messaging him. I shift a little closer, kind of apprehensive and curious at the same time.
To: Kyle Thomas
Message: Damien's being all emo and mopey. My bad, right? Sorry it looked bad in that picture, but it's just how I am, y'know? We go back a few years - I can't help being kinda over friendly. Let the poor baby know you're all good, yeah, or he's gonna drive me fuckin insane.
A couple of minutes later, my phone goes off, and I look at the text on the screen. "Sorry I was a bit of a dick earlier."
"I don't care if you were a dick or not. I just want us to be okay"
"We are" Why do I not feel convinced by that? I guess it's ‘cause I can't hear him say it, or see his face. It'll have to do for now, though. I can feel Rayn's eyes on me, but I kind of ignore him, trying to think of something to say to Kyle.
"I really fucking love you. I can't lose you x"
"He's really got you wrapped around his finger, huh?" Rayn comments, resting his chin on my shoulder again. I push him off, more interested in my phone buzzing again.
"I can't lose you either, gorgeous x"
I'm not entirely sure how I ended up sitting on the living room floor with my shirt off and Rayn prodding my cuts, but here we are. He tuts at the state of my torso.
"Why didn't you tell him what it was when you woke up all horror movie?"
"I dunno... I guess I just don't wanna risk it fucking things up even more," I shrug. He prods another cut. It looks pretty gross, actually.
"Ew. It's all nasty."
"When did you do that?" I hear Kyle's quiet voice from near the front door and I jump, looking up at him and those blank eyes of his.
"The other day," I mutter, biting my lip a little.
"Should've told me." Well, yeah, but it's not exactly something you drop into casual conversation, is it? ‘Oh, by the way, I decided I'd try and tear myself apart the other day, hope it's okay if I'm too ashamed of it to have sex with you til it's healed.'
"S'okay." Sorry, babe, I fail to see what's okay about any of it. He comes over to me and hugs me. I hadn't really been expecting this kind of reaction, to be honest. I hug back kinda tightly, noticing Rayn slip off and shut himself in the kitchen while Kyle rubs my back.
"What made you...?" he gestures at the cuts.
"A bunch of things," I shrug slightly.
"Just stupid things. Like not having any drugs and how things were at home," I mumble, trying not to let on just how fucking embarrassing it is talking about this with someone other than Campbell. I mean, I shouldn't be embarrassed, right? ‘Cause he's my boyfriend. But... I dunno. It's just weird. I never open up to other people about it, really. Other people know it's there, but we don't talk about it. Rayn just complains about how nasty it looks, and if he's feeling particularly grown up, he'll tell me off, but that's about as far as it goes.
He kisses my cheek, and I bury my head in his neck, glad that he's happy to just cuddle me quietly.
"We are okay, aren't we?" I ask after a while, my voice almost a whisper.