Trust?

He nods and I lift a hesitant hand towards him. I follow the outlines of the scars over his forearm. 

Then the ones closer to his hips. His eyes are never leaving my fingers when he says. 

"Please don't ask me if I've ever wanted to kill myself." 

"I wasn't going to." 

"No?" 

"No." 

I am quiet for a while, goosebumps start rising on his skin where I'm still touching him. 

"Did it ever help?" 

He pauses before answering and I don't urge him to continue. In the end, he admits.

"Sometimes. Not always." 

"Maybe no matter what we do, we can't always kill that part we are trying to fight, right ."

He looks up and out meet. 

"You don't think something's wrong with me, do you?" 

"Oh, Jer." 

My hands cup his face and I rest my forehead against his shoulder. 

"Never." 

"Are you sure?" 

I laugh ner