"Babe," Alex crawled into their bed, placing a hand over Henry's. "What's wrong?"
Henry hadn't noticed Alex coming in, having lost time distracted by a single thread of skin still left at the edge of his cuticle.
It had started as a hang nail that grew to span the whole length of his nail bed, travelling down, painting his thumb in more and more red. His hands shook as he tried to pull the last remains of uneven skin, working through the sting of pain. He was used to it at this point.
Alex's hand was a welcome distraction. It didn't make the impulse disappear, no that would take longer, but it allowed him to refocus. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, waiting for the adrenaline to dissipate. Desperately trying to pull away from the vicious spiral he'd once again fallen into.
"I'm not quite sure," Henry replied. The cause wasn't always clear, just whatever was causing him to be stressed or anxious at the time.
"Well, if you want to talkā¦"
Henry didn't know what he'd done to deserve this man. He'd grown up being taught that any sort of nervous habits were unsightly. But this one just wouldn't go away. Ignoring those bits of skin that stuck out wrong just made it worse later. At his lowest points he would resort to any means just to get rid of that last piece. Teeth, nails, scissors, nail clippers, everything and anything.
Gran and Philip hated it. Scorning him constantly. Slapping his hands at a moments notice. They did everything in their power to avoid his habit from continuing. Not that it ever actually worked.
It wasn't a problem fixed by words. He knew it was wrong. But knowing that and actually fixing it were two different things.
Alex was the first person who didn't tell him it was wrong. He didn't just expect him to stop for good. He understood and helped him manage it. Gave him an outlet to talk through his feelings. It wasn't a perfect solution but it helped.
Angling his head, he kissed Alex. "Thank you," he whispered.
Turning, Alex moved to grab a bandaid from the bedside table, handing it to him. "Always."
Alright. Fun facts about this: I literally had this idea while picking at my finger and I tried to use writing it as way to stop picking at the time. (that was to mild success.) This whole story spans from my own experience, so I'm sorry if it doesn't make a whole bunch of sense. Will say, that bandaid thing is my usually way of stoping myself from picking. I now have strong opinions on bandaids (Fabric 100% and the bandaid brand tough strips are the way to go. they will actually last two or three days if you're careful and they can sometimes withstand getting wet)
But yeah, I've had this bad habit for as long as I can remember and was like why the hell not write this. Thanks for reading, feel free to comment I welcome them as long as you're polite.
Tumblr - readingwriter92
