You’re dating the son of Apollo, as a son of Hades.

Clichè, am I right?

You didn’t care.

He loved you, and you loved him.

Right now, you stood in front of his mirror in just your chest binder, staring at the scars on your neck and shoulders.

They were your own marks from the time you tried to end yourself.

Will came up behind you and started kissing them, holding your waist.

“They’re beautiful, just like you.”