[And just like that, he can feel the burning sensation of judgement in J's stare. He fumbles with the sleeves, dipping his head in humiliation then tucking both of his hands into the pockets of his jeans to hide the markings on them.

It's odd to have someone bring his scars into question; most people see them, scold or pity him and leave it at that, but J's actually asking him why he does it. He can't admit to the other reason yet and frankly, he's not sure she would understand that reasoning either, but he has to think of some way to answer her question truthfully and without letting on that he's becoming uncomfortable with the way this conversation seems to be headed.]

Sure, we can go with 'equally weird.' Have you ever had an adrenaline rush? Exsanguination offers that, too. I'm not saying that's a reason I do it. [Although, he's not going to admit that it's been reason before; the sting of the cut, the dull throb, throb, throbbing of his pulse, the bloom of epinephrine as he bleeds out. One of the same reasons why other people do drugs and maybe that's another thing that scares him: he enjoys the feeling.]