she watched as his green eyes swept over his surroundings, taking in the cozy coffee shop. there were warm colored tables, and a soft glow of light cast around the room. he took a sip of his drink than spoke.
"so, what's your story?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"what do you mean?" she replied casually, knowing exactly what he meant, but not wanting to answer just yet.
"I think you know exactly what I mean, carmen." he inquired, raising his eyebrow yet again.
"ok. I'll tell you. it started when I was thirteen. I wasn't exactly the prettiest or skinniest kid around, so the kids around my school would always trip me and call me "whale" and they made fun of my hair and clothes and all the junk. so that summer, I started cutting, hoping it would make me feel better. it didn't. but I became addicted, and now I know that all that I got out of it were scarred, ugly wrists." a tear slipped down her cheek, falling on to the marble floor.