"Tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you another question?" It was another personal one.

"Sure." He replied.

"When was the last time hurt yourself?" I asked, hoping it wasn't too personal.

If he was any more uncomfortable after I asked, he didn't show it. "Last night." The lack of hesitation scared me a little bit. He started rolling up his shorts more, showing the countless cuts and scars littering his thighs. There was some toilet paper haphazardly pressed over a section, he pulled it off to reveal the fresh cuts. I winced.

"Do they hurt?" I asked without thinking. "Shit— sorry you don't have to answer that, that was really insensitive..." I apologised.

"No it's ok. And, um, yeah they do. Not a lot though. They look really deep but I guess I'm sort of used to the pain now." He explained, I awkwardly nodded.

After rolling his shorts back, we started staring out to nothing again. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, or perhaps it was longer, I wasn't quite sure. I rested my head on my knees again.

"You know, you don't have to stay." He whispered.

I looked up at him then, my eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?" I asked.

He looked down. "I mean you don't have to sit here and try and comfort the suicidal kid. You don't have to stay."

I gulped. "I think we both know why it's better if I stay. Plus, I like sitting here with you."

He smiled back at me. "Ok."

"Ok."