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Ever since attending Blackmore and leaving Woodsboro, Tara attempted to put the attacks behind her. Eventually, this led to you asking her out for coffee after classes.
The two of you were talking when you noticed a mark on her left hand. The gash was a darker color than the tan skin of her hand.
"If you don't mind me asking, what's the scar on your hand?" Tara looked down at her hand and covered it up.
"Really, it's fine. Just something stupid I did as a kid." Her eyes looked sad, as if looking back on some sad memory.
This wasn't the only suspicious thing you noticed about Tara. When you asked about her other friends and family, Tara would make up an excuse to keep you from meeting them.
Even though you didn't know it, you were her little safe haven. You didn't constantly remind her of her past at Woodsboro. In some ways, you reminded her she could have a life beyond the attacks.
But, she knew she would have to tell you the truth eventually. Rather than let someone else tell you, she was going to tell you the truth.
You started to notice Tara growing distant around late Sept. 22-28. Some days she wouldn't even attend class, which had you worried.
You made your way to your dorm to see Tara standing outside your room, apprehensive. "Y/N, can we talk?"
You nodded and opened the door, letting her in first. She sat on your bed, uncharacteristically quiet. When she sat down, you got a better look at her.
Her eyes had bags under them, as if she hadn't slept in a while or hadn't slept well.
You sat next to her. "What is it you wanted to tell me?"
"I'm not from Michigan, I'm from California. My full name is Tara Carpenter." Your eyebrows raised, you heard of that last name.
"Wait, like Sam Carpenter?!" She nodded, "I came to Blackmore to get away from Woodsboro. It's why I haven't spoken to you for the past few days. Today's the anniversary of the attacks. It was difficult to get away from my sister to see you."
"Is that where the scar on your hand came from?" Tara nodded and stood up. She lifted the hem of her shirt to reveal multiple angry looking lines on her stomach, healed scars from stab wounds.
Your heart broke a little at the sight. You reached your hand out to her scars, tracing them. The scars were slightly rougher than the soft, tan skin surrounding the area.
Tara POV
Tara watched as you looked inquisitively at the scars on her stomach. Anxiety bubbled in her stomach.
She was afraid that the truth would drive you away from her. She was concerned that even if you didn't leave out of fear, that there would be a rift due to her secrecy.
She also felt insecure about her scars. A physical representation of the suffering she went through a year ago. She waited with bated breath for your reaction.
To her surprise, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to one of her stomach scars. You leaned forward and pressed another then another.
Your kisses sent a tingling, electric sensation throughout Tara's body, eliciting giggles from her stop.
"Stop that, it tickles." If anything, this spurs you on. You spin Tara around so she's lying on the bed, laughing at your antics.
"There's that smile!" I'm glad you survived what happened to you. And I'm glad you told me the truth."
You didn't know it, but with those words, all of Tara's fears were alleviated.
Y/N POV
By now, Tara's head was laying on your lap. You ran your fingers through her hair, the beginnings of a deep sleep.
You pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, "I love you." Tara smiled and snuggled closer to you.
