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167 Toms POV

I stood in front of the mirror and glared at myself, looking at all the things on my face, analysing them all, because I knew that if I didn't fix them quick, I would no longer have the loving boyfriend I had right now. I still couldn't get over the fact that Danny loved me, after hearing those things he said, I realised that he actually loved me, or at least liked me. How could he possibly like this...thing I was staring at in the mirror? How did he possibly see something he could date, kiss and hug, touch? I didn't get it, and why was it he always managed to blurt out feelings when I was slipping into something 'dangerous?' he always just blurted it out at those times, he saved me from my demons last time, this time he wouldn't be so lucky. I knew these demons were real this time, that this wasn't some stupid disorder bringing me down, this was real stuff, completely real deformity, that had to be fixed now.

In my head, I made a list of things that needed fixing, needing perfecting. The size of my chin, my too pale skin, (somehow) change my eye colour, do something with my hair, get rid of these moles and freckles, put on some weight and get some muscles. That was just the start of the list, there was so much more than that on there, but this was just to start with. I felt sick looking at myself right now, physically sick looking at my own reflection, realising how disgusting I looked, how disgusting I was. How Danny loved me I don't know. He deserved so much more, so much better, someone worthy of himself, someone who was beautiful and had a personality and talent. I had nothing compared to himself, he was so perfect, so amazing, I don't know how or why he fell in love with me, or why he was so determined to keep me his. It was a huge mistake, probably my fault, that made him like me. Maybe it was something like that Stockholm Syndrome, where kidnapping victims fell in love with their kidnappers so they had a better chance surviving, had I done that to Danny? Had I brainwashed him into liking me? I hoped not, I would have hated to know I had done something so horrible to him.

"hey, so is this where the celebrations at then?" Danny made me leap feet in the air and whip round to face him, panicking. "I, er, what?" I backed away from him and the mirror, looking away from him, I still couldn't even look at his perfect face, couldn't see his look of pure concern and love for me. It stung to see it. "I thought you were going to bed for a lay down, what are you still doing in the bathroom half an hour after you said you were laying down? You haven't, done it again, have you?" Danny sighed, pointing to my arms. "no! No I haven't! I'm clean, promise." I showed him my arms, proving I hadn't touched my arms...yet. "well, thats good. So what are you doing up here?" Danny stepped forward, putting his hand on my shoulder, his other sliding around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "I was just, er, just, thinking. Yeah, I was thinking, about everything." I pulled out of his arms again, not able to stand having someone touch me. Especially someone like Danny, who was so perfect to me.

"alright, well, are you still feeling ill?" Danny followed me, barely letting me out of his hands. "yeah, I still feel a little rough." I wasn't lying, I felt sick of myself, I didn't want to face me anymore. "right, bed time for you then, isn't it? Come one, lets get you into bed. Want me to stay with you?" Danny asked, pushing me towards my dreaded bed once again, his hands holding onto my hips so gently it was like he was handling a baby. I made me grit my teeth, I was not a baby, I was 26 years old and could look after myself, I didn't need someone looking after me. It had gotten worse since he found out about the cutting, treating me like I knew he would, like 'poor fragile Tom needs looking after in case he explodes and kills himself or breaks down in tears all day'. "no, I'll be fine. I'm just going to sleep." I shook my head, just wanting to be left on my own for a while, so I could get my head straight and for everyone to stop fussing over me. "alright then. Well, I'll be up later on, alright? Sleep well, I love you." Danny sighed, tucking me into bed and kissing me gently, setting off 1000 butterflies in my stomach. The tv was turned on and Danny left me on my own, leaving me to actually cry myself to sleep, unable to help but feel so worthless.

168 Dannys POV

"get him off alright?" Carrie worried the minute I came down, Harry and Dougie had gone home, thinking Tom had already gone to sleep when he obviously hadn't. "yeah, he's in bed now, I'll check on him in about half an hour again, just to make sure he's okay." I sighed, slumping onto the sofa, finally deflating against the furniture. "thats good. Well at least we've told him, that we love him." Carrie agreed, resting her head on my arm. "yeah, at least we have told him that. And he seems like he's getting more used to the idea, but is still struggling with the whole relationship thing at the moment. He's not liking the idea of being held at the moment." I squeezed her shoulders gently, sensing her worry for her brother.

"well, we can get him used to that, right?" Carrie asked, wriggling closer to me a little more. "yep, we can get him used to being held. We'll be fine, eventually, we'll be fine." I reassured me and her, wanting so badly to know that Tom would be okay. I was putting on a brave front, but I wanted so badly to just fix Tom, make him better, so he was my Tom again, who let me hold him in my arms, kiss him and love him. Tom was my whole world, and I just wanted him to be happy again, happy as my boyfriend, in my arms, laughing and smiling like he used to.

As promised, half an hour later, I went upstairs, checking that Tom was okay. It broke my heart to see him though, there were tear tracks all the way down his pale face, and scratch marks on his unbandaged arm, it was clear he had run his hands through his hair numerous times too, to be honest, he looked awful. And what was worse, was that he was also laying on the floor, I hadn't even heard him fall out. "aw baby, what have you been crying for, huh? And I thought we had stopped all this now." I sighed, gently scooping the boy up in my arms, cradling him for the 10th time this year.

Carefully, I set Tom down in bed, tucking him into the covers, making sure he was comfy and safe in his blankets. Then, I did a thorough check on his arms, just making sure there was just scratch marks there, and nothing else more dangerous. It shocked me to know that Tom didn't want to stop cutting, I knew I was scared to stop, hell I was terrified to stop, but I hadn't thought about how Tom was going to cope with the idea of stopping. I knew it was a scary thing, to admit it and to try and stop, to be faced with all these emotions, all this guilt, with no way to stop it, maybe Tom was just scared to be faced with his emotions? But, I would help him through that, help him to cope with whatever he was feeling, didn't he know that I would help him, no matter what?

I guessed it was time for me to go to bed too, so I pulled off my jeans and got in, cuddling up to my boyfriend again for the first time in 18 months. It felt so good to hold him close again, like he had never left my arms at all, like my still perfect boyfriend, who I would do anything for. "I love you Tommy, so much. Sleep well, we'll talk more in the morning." I sighed, gently kissing his ruffled golden hair, squeezing his tiny shoulders and finally falling asleep.