Beautiful Scars

I'd always hated myself for what I had done. Betrayed his trust and lost everything that we were. I loved him. I love him. I love you. Jackson.

I repeated those words with every slash on my thigh. Tears stung my eyes but I bit them back, wanting to hurt myself. The whiteness of the bathroom hazed in my eyes. I felt like I was high. Cutting was my personal ecstasy. I didn't need drugs anymore.

To not need cutting, I'd need Jackson.

Jackson made me feel loved. Amazing, beautiful, cherished. He made me giggle like a schoolgirl whenever we were together, then we'd stop, look at each other and devour the others lips in a storm of passion. I'd wrap my fingers in his curly brown hair, and his strong hands would hold my hips, rubbing the calluses of his fingers over my stomach and thighs. He'd never push me, and we'd never had sex. I wanted to. I don't know if he knew that. We had it all together. Then I brought it all down in one instance. Finally telling him the truth. I never, ever wished to hurt him. It wasn't what I had planned. I wish I'd had a plan at the time. What was I thinking? I wish I had never done it. If only I hadn't, maybe he'd be wrapped in my arms tenderly...

As I lay on the cold floor of my bathroom, taking in all the emotions that rushed through me, my phone buzzed next to me. I hazily opened my eyes, looking past the blood that marked my thigh and the floor to see that it was Lisa, my beautiful best friend calling to check up on me. I ignored it. I know my friends are worried. They know something is up. Ever since Jackson and I stopped talking and seeing each other, I reverted into myself and barely talked. It was like a hole was punched through my chest.

The pain felt so beautiful.

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The next morning, I dragged myself to school and listened mercilessly to my teachers drone on and on about stuff that would never help me with real life situations. I need to know how to mend a broken heart, not how to find the molar mass of a compound. I needed to know how to fix this mess I made, not conjugate verbs into the subjunctive in Spanish.

Okay, maybe that one I would use eventually.

My days dragged on like that. Listening, putting off the front that I was alright. Ignoring, making my friends even more worried. And releasing the pain, making my mind think that everything would be okay. Even if only for a little while.

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Jackson and I had had a secret way of communication between us. For example, if we were hanging out with friends and one of us wanted to be alone together, we'd lock eyes for the longest time, telling the other whatever they needed to know. A look into someone's soul can give you so much information. So much guidance. I'd look at Jackson, leaning back against a wall, strumming his guitar and chatting with his music friends. Then, he'd feel my glance and we'd lock eyes. Then he'd know, and we'd leave back to my house or his house and stay wrapped in each others arms for hours kissing and touching. I loved our body language because we knew each other so well. He knew that my sides we're extremely sensitive, and he handled me with care, grazing his lips gently over my ribs, making my stomach muscles tighten and me tug on his hair.

He also knew how to get into my house without my parents knowing. We had an entrance through our basement, rarely used, but still there. There was a guest bedroom down there, and every so often I'd get a text saying "I'm here for you" and I'd know exactly where he was. There was so many things in my life that revolved around Jackson that I didn't know how to function after he'd left.

My parents were gone that Saturday, and once again, I was staying home. They were worried about me too, no doubt. But I didn't have the heart to tell them that I was depressed. They tried so hard to give me the best life possible, that me telling them that I was broken in so many ways over a boy would kill them.

I'd fallen asleep watching Skins when a noise made me jump out of my sleep. It sounded from the kitchen, and I leaned off the couch to see if anyone was there. My heart was hammering through my chest, and suddenly the noise was there again. Creaking of the floorboard. I grabbed the closest thing near me: a remote.

What I was going to do? Change the channel on him to death? Still, I gripped it, and getting up silently, snaked onto the floor, crouching and waiting for the suspect to come to the living room.

Then Chester pranced out, our cat, sniffed me grossly and trotted away. His tail swooshed behind him, and I groaned and flopped onto the floor. Fucking cat. My heart still hammered, but I got up anyways and headed for the kitchen.

I stood at the sink, looking out into the dark backyard and holding a knife in my right hand. The scars on my left leg were a little messier because I usually used my left hand to do it, and I was right handed. I pulled up my shorts and little, and without thinking, pressed the shiny blade against my skin. It bit down, and I cried out a little. I was used to using my razor blade, which was a bit smoother on the skin. Not a knife used for chopping vegetables.

"Grace..." A pained voice sounded from behind me and I gasped, dropped the knife, and spun around. Blood was now running down my leg, and a pair of wide eyes stayed locked on the scars.

Jackson was wet from the rain, and his hands were held out, as if he were trying to take something from me. His eyes shot to mine, and I instantly felt pain. Deep in my chest. His showed the same.

I quickly recovered and grabbed the washcloth I'd put on the counter, wet it, and started pressing it against the cut. The cool water felt good, but my heart was now in a frenzy, and not from the knife. Jackson was still watching me, his lips opened slightly. It looked like he was shaking from the cold. Wordlessly, I walked down the hall to the bathroom and got a towel, then came back and handed it to him. He simply stared at me. His eyes showed pain like I had never seen before. I hated myself for putting it there. I started crying. Sobbing in front of him, and we hadn't even exchanged two words yet.

He wrapped the towel around me, and I protested, wanting him to get dry so he wouldn't get sick. He picked me up easily, and held me gently against him, careful not to touch the cut on my leg. His jaw was set, and it looked like he was clenching and unclenching it. I kept crying.

Jackson laid me on the couch then knelt beside it. He took the washcloth from me and pressed it against my leg. I didn't protest. My eyes were locked on his face while his were locked on my thighs. I know he was seeing the previous scars that were there, but I wasn't even thinking of that. I was thinking of how beautiful he was. His eyelashes were wet, and his hair was curling even more because of the rain. His chocolate eyes flashed to mine, and I blushed.

"How did you get in here?" I asked softly.

"Downstairs. Remember?" He said, with a hint of a smile. "You showed me how to work that lock from the outside." He looked at me. "I couldn't forget." We stayed like that, looking at each other for a while before he spoke again. "Why do you do this..." and gestured towards my leg.

I shrugged, like it was painfully obvious. "It helps with the pain."

Jackson nodded. "Pain I gave you?"

We looked at each other, and I shook my head almost imperceptibly. "No... pain I gave both of us. Pain I gave you. I hate myself for that..."

"I don't want you to hate yourself. I don't hate you. I love you."

I froze. He what? I guess he saw the confusion that crossed my face, because he smiled softly and nodded. Then he stood up, scooped me up in his arms, and turned around so he could sit on the couch with me on top of him. I tried to scoot away, afraid I would crush him, but he kept his hold. "Gracey..." he whispered. I froze again. His lips were so close to my ear, and I could feel my cheeks and neck turning red. "Don't do that. Stay here please." His fingers brushed back some of my hair and I started crying. Again. And everything tumbled out. The apologies I wanted to give him. How I hated myself for hurting him. How I hated myself for breaking everything we'd had. He let me go on for a while, simply staring at me and holding me against his chest. Why was he doing this?

When I finally stopped, we stared at each other. My tears weren't dry on my cheeks yet, and he lifted a thumb to stroke them away. Suddenly, I became aware of everything about him. The way his chest felt against mine. The way he cradled my legs in his arm. The way his other arm was held around my back, stroking my side. I felt myself respond to his body almost immediately, and I blushed for the sudden urge. He smiled, like he knew what was raging on inside my head. He probably did.

Gently, Jackson leaned in and brushed his lips across mine once. He stayed close, feeling my breath across his lips. My heart was hammering and everything was hazy. What were we doing?

"Jackson, I don't kn-" But he cut me off with his lips on my neck. I involuntarily moaned, and I felt his lips curl into a smile. But still, I laid my hand on his chest and pushed. He pulled back and looked at me. "I don't deserve this..." I whispered. My voice was shaky, as were my hands that now lay flat in my lap. "Don't forgive me..."

He shook his head. "Gracey... I want you." Those little words did magic to my body. "I need you in my life... please... don't do this to me." His voice was raspy, but very gentle, and I could tell he meant those words. I willed myself not to cry again, and we locked eyes. I looked at him with the most love possible, all the love I could give, and his eyes trailed down my body. Again, my muscles clenched. My eyes were staring at his lips, willing for them to come closer again.

They did. He moved, pulling me back into his lap. I moved in his arms a little so I could wrap my arms around his neck. The rain outside increased, and so did we. His tongue slide inside my mouth, and I loved the taste of him. I moaned gently, and he responded the same. His hands were pressing on my back. My legs moved, of their own accord, to either side of his waist, and now I was straddling him. I gently bit on his lower lip, pulling it in between my teeth. He groaned and jerked up my shirt a little, pressing his warm hands into me. My hands were in his hair and his were pushing on my lower back and I felt him pressing into my thigh and all at once, I wanted something completely different than pain. Pleasure.

My mind raced as I thought of how to go about this. I didn't know how to be sexy at all, or seductive. I guess I'd have to settle for inexperienced and nervous. My hands slid from his neck to his chest and lower, stopping at the bottom and his sweatshirt and moving inside his clothes. He groaned and stood up, only to gently lay me back down on the couch. He pulled off his sweatshirt, and I marveled at his chest. The familiar-ness of it astounded me. When he climbed on top of me, careful to hold his weight so I would feel none of it, I ran my hands over his back and chest, feeling the muscle tensed below the surface. I bit my lip, then looked into his eyes. He was staring back with even more intensity that I blushed hard. He smiled and leaned back down to kiss me passionately, trailing his lips down my neck and collarbone.

Jackson's hands wandered up my shirt, tugging it over my head. I was suddenly a nervous wreck. I didn't know what I was doing. Jackson's lips were moving down, over my collarbone and I started moaning softly. His strong hands gripped at my ribs and pulled me up off the couch gently, then ran behind my back to unclasp my bra. He peeled it away from my skin, then leaned in and kissed my breasts gently. I opened my mouth and gasped his name, then curled my fingers in his hair and pressed him against me. His tongue and lips sucked gently on my hard nipples. He was driving me crazy.

My chest was pushing up against him and my legs were wrapped around him. My breaths were coming shorter and I could feel the wetness in between my legs. I moved my hand down and touched my clit under my shorts. Jackson groaned my name and pulled my hand away, licking my fingers. He moaned around them, tasting me, and my lips parted. He slide off the couch to kneel and pulled my hips with him. His eyes stayed on mine the entire time, and he gently pulled off my shorts, careful not to touch the scars. Then he hooked his fingers in the elastic of my panties and pulled them off too.

"Oh... Gracey..." The way he said my name made my head lean back, and I moaned. I felt his lips moving against my scars so gently. Lovingly. His hands were holding my waist, keeping me from moving too much while he kissed my tender areas. "Don't do this anymore." He kept saying. "Don't you ever hurt yourself again." Then he moved his face in between my legs, and ran his tongue over my slit in one motion. I was so wet, and his fingers spread my pussy a little wider while his tongue played over my clit. I was moaning softly, biting my lip, gripping the pillow and pushing my hips towards him more. He smiled, and moaned and whispered how good I tasted. Then he pushed his tongue inside me, and I bucked my hips against him. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him pushing inside me and making love to me.

His lips wrapped over my clit and started sucking, and my moans started getting higher. He kept going, knowing exactly what he was doing, until I came down my pussy, and he moved to lick it up, groaning and gripping my hips with his hands. We looked at each other, and I quickly grabbed his arms and pulled him up and the couch. I switched places with him and started kissing his stomach, loving the little hair that was there. His hand snaked through my hair, gripping. I loved it. I unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them off, then pulled off his boxers without hesitation. But Jackson stopped me.

"Are you sure Gracey..." I smiled, loving that he was such a gentle person, and nodded. His cock was already hard, and even though I had no idea what I was doing, I gently kissed the tip and heard him groan. I teased him a little, unable to resist. I gently licked the tip of him, then moved my lips to his hips and stomach, gently breathing against him and feeling his stomach muscles contract while my breasts pushed against his hardness. He was breathing harder and I wrapped my hand softly around him, gently stroking. I'd never touched another guys penis before, but I'd say Jackson's was on the bigger end of the spectrum. Then I smiled, replaced my hand with my mouth, and wrapped my lips around him, starting to suck and move my lips down his length. Jackson's hands were gripping my hair, and I could feel him trying not to push my head or push his hips forward, but it was taking all his strength. My hands were resting on his hips, and he moved his hands to my arms, sinking his fingers into my skin. It hurt a little, but I loved that I was pleasuring him so much. He was groaning harder, and I wanted to keep going, but I wanted him to make love to me. So I pulled my lips off, kissed the tip of his cock again, and kissed my way back up to his lips. I wasn't sure if I should kiss him, because I heard guys don't like to after a girl gives him head, but Jackson gripped me hard and kissed me with so much fervor I almost collapsed.

We then wordlessly switched places again, and he got on top of me. I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my wet pussy, and I moaned and leaned my head back. "I love you..." I heard him whisper before starting to push inside me. We both felt it when he hit my hymen, and he leaned over to my lips and stared into my eyes before pushing forward. I bit back letting out a moan of pain, and simply wrapped my legs and arms around him while he kissed away the few tears that had spilled over. He whispered into my ear how much he loved me and how good I felt while I got used to him. Then I moaned again and he started gently rocking with my body. I was on fire. Jackson was on fire. My lips were open against his ear, and I could feel his breath on my shoulder. There was a whisper of a grunt in the darkness, and I softly answered into his ear each time he thrust in me.

Our tongues were in each others mouths, and I slipped one of my shaking hands down his neck. He quickly grabbed that arm and held it down against the pillow by my head. Jackson was looking right into my eyes and I blushed a little, and he smiled softly. I leaned up, gently planting a kiss on his chest, and spread my legs a little more. Leaning his forehead against my shoulder, he started pushing in me faster, and I buried my fingers in his hair. He was hitting my G spot, and I felt tears forming again, this time from pleasure. He was going to make me come, and I whispered it into his ear. He groaned so loudly, gripped my thigh and pushed it up a little, and started thrusting in me faster. I could hear his body hit mine and his fingers moved to rub my clit, sending me over the edge. I softly screamed his name into his neck, digging my nails into his back while I came over his hard cock. Jackson's eyes were squeezed shut, and I could tell he was trying his hardest to last for me.

Then I whispered into his ear how much I wanted him to come inside me, and how much I loved the feeling of his cock and he groaned and pumped me even harder than before. He opened his eyes, looking almost animalistic, and it only turned me on more. I starting whispering dirtier things into his ear and raking my nails down his back. He was squeezing my thigh hard, but I didn't care. His cock was moving hard in and out of me and he was rubbing my clit. I felt an orgasm building, and I started squeezing his shoulders. He pushed up on his hands, hovering over me and pushing me to the edge. I felt his cock pounding inside me, and I finally orgasmed so hard under him, leaning my head back and gasping while he gripped me harder. Then his body tensed and he thrust so hard inside me, hovering over me and opening his eyes to stare into mine, both our mouths open against each other, and I felt his cock tense inside me and come. He moaned jaggedly into my mouth. My hands were tugging on his hair. We were both sweating, holding each other closer. I didn't want him out of me, but he locked his shaking lips with mine and slowly pulled out of me. I bit his bottom lip and moaned against him.

My lips felt swollen almost, and Jackson instantly pulled me towards him. He smiled against me, and I looked at his arms and back. There were marks on his back from my nails. I looked at him apologetically, and gently started kissing them, pressing my bare breasts into his back and hugging myself against him. He pulled me under him again and looked at my thighs sadly. I instantly became self conscious again.

His hands rubbed gently on my thighs. There were marks from where his fingers sunk into my skin too hard, and he looked sorry for that. But I smiled and wrapped my arms around him. "I love you..." I whispered into his ear.

The rain pelted against the windows, and we stayed wrapped in each other's arms. "I love you too, Grace." He whispered back.