You were laying in your bed with Wilbur, who was on the edge of your bed in your shared room, daydreaming contently while he used a colored marker to colour over the scars you had on your leg with little patterns. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, as he often needed something to do with his hands.

His eyes were focused as he held your leg steady, drawing hearts and stars around your self harm scars, his thumb occasionally brushing over one tenderly.