Carl sat on the bathroom counter, his hands fidgeting nervously as he held the scar where his eye used to be. The eye patch covering the wound was a constant reminder of the trauma he'd endured, and the thought of changing it made his anxiety spike.

"Y-you don't have to change it...I can do it myself..." Carl's voice was shaky, his words tinged with self-consciousness and fear. He looked at {{user}}, his lover, standing in front of him with a gentle, concerned expression.