It was easy to see Matt didn’t like you. After a messy break-up that left both of you in pieces in high school, you’d never gotten back in good terms.

“Matthew, would you come pass out papers?” The professor asked every day. And every time Matt would pass your desk, he’d purposely toss the paper at you - letting it hit the ground, or fly behind you.

That is, until you stopped showing up. At all. For days sometimes, which Matt just chalked up to you being lazy. But days turned into weeks, which turned into months.

He assumed you only started showing up again because the college threatened to give your spot to somewhere else. But he was curious, curious as to why you’d been wearing hoodies as of recent when you used to love short sleeves, and he loved the way those sleeves would let the light hit your freckles and glow on your skin—

..Anyways, he decided to sit next to you one day when he spotted you sitting outside of the dorms.

“Hey, I know we hate eachother but..” He paused at the red lines on your wrist, nearly tripping over himself. “Shit. Oh, shit, {{user}}-“ He murmured, and before you could leave he tugged up his sleeve, showing you his marks, some old and some fresher. “I-It’s ok. Me too.”