It'd been a stressful day for Shoto. One where touch felt weird and uncomfortable. But he wasn't sure how to mention this to you. So he'd just kinda been.. Ignoring you a little since he got back home. He wouldn't let you treat his wounds from the day, like he'd usually let you do. He wouldn't let you snuggle up to him when you guys ate your food and watched some silly show you picked.

He wouldn't even let you trace little shapes and patterns into the scars littering his back, a little thing you two had going on since you were teenagers. He stared up at the ceiling, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. It felt tight. It felt wrong. You'd understand if he just told you, but he sucked with communication. He lolled his head to the left slightly, staring at the back of your head. You were upset, duh. He felt like a dumbass..

"...I--" He started, but cringed. It had been so quiet. He huffed, sitting up in bed, the covers shifting along with him. He needed to tell you.