I Still Think You're Beautiful
You pulled the covers over you as silent sobs racked your body, thinking you’d be safer under there, thinking you’d be okay if you no one could see you. You would have started playing music to distract yourself from the dangerous thoughts that roamed your mind, but you couldn’t find your iPod. So there you were, being attacked by your own mind whilst huddled in a ball under the sheets.
You heard humming from down the hallway and tried to suck up your tears and wipe your eyes as best possible. You didn’t want him to know that you’d been crying, you didn’t need him to know that you were in pain.
“Y/N?” he asked tentatively. “You okay?”
“Mhm, I’m…” But at the sight of his concerned face, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You paused, then shook your head vigorously, tears threatening to leak from your eyes again. “No, no, I’m not okay. I’ve had bad depression for so long and it hurts so bad and today I’m having a horrid day and nothing’s going right and I just don’t want to exist. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to have to explain everything and I don’t want to hurt you anymore so you should really just forget that I said anything and just leave me alone so I don’t hurt you.”
“Y/N…”
“Bucky, please. I don’t want to–”
“You’re not going to hurt me, not by talking to me. You’re only going to help yourself feel better, which, in turn, would help me feel better. I didn’t know you had depression, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s not your fault, you know. You don’t have to apologize. My brain just hates me.”
“If your brain hated you, you wouldn’t be here for me to love.”
“Shut up.”
“Is there anything else you needed to talk about right now?”
You hesitated, slowly pulling off your shirt to reveal scars. “They’re so ugly. They make me ugly.”
“Lay down on your back.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
You followed his commands and he crawled over you, pressing his lips gently to your lowest scar. “I still think you’re beautiful,” he mumbled against the raised skin. He repeated this over and over, murmuring, “I still think you’re beautiful,” over and over until you were smiling through tears, and until he had kissed every scar on your body.
“Were you just quoting lyrics?” you asked when he was done.
“Maybe.” He then kissed you gently on your lips. “I–I’m sorry, doll. I’m sorry you’re having a shit day. I’m sorry you think your brain hates you, I’m sorry for all the pain you feel. I wouldn’t ever want to lose my best friend, so don’t you dare leave me. Make me a promise? That you’ll always talk to me when you’re feeling bad?” he asked, sticking up his pinky finger. You hooked yours in his, and smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time.
“Now, what do you say I buy some ice cream and we watch Netflix?”