For as long as Carlos had known you, you’d had the same anxious habit. You’d pick and scratch at any scab you had - any bit of loose skin. Your fingers were sore from how often you’d pick at your cuticles. You’d eventually managed to shake the habit, but recently you’d begun again. As your boyfriend, of course it worried him. The two of you had been enjoying a movie night on your couch when he’d caught you picking again.

“Hey. Cut it out.” He scolded softly, his hands holding your arms up.