AN: we were watchin a thing in health so i wrote this because i was sad
yeehaw
i dont own hetal ia

They're everywhere. All over his wrist, his hand, even a little bit on his arms. But there can never be enough.

Hearts.

Hearts are drawn on both of Berwald's arms. They were drawn by his boyfriend, Tino. He never liked it when Berwald cut himself, always told him he was better than that, that he didn't deserve to do that to himself.

He didn't cut anymore though. It had been a few years. Instead, he wrote. He wrote about the people he cared about, the stories in his head, even vague poetry. Sometimes he wrote on his hands, sometimes on paper in a private diary. It was always in red ink. It gave him the feeling that he did cut. It was a healthier alternative.

One time Tino saw what he wrote on his wrist, since he wasn't wearing a wristband that day. He pulled him aside and read it aloud. He took out a red marker and drew a heart over every time he wrote the word "i." There weren't many, since it was a small piece of writing, but they were there.

Berwald said nothing as Tino kept drawing hearts all over his arm. He had drawn probably 100 on each arm before he capped the marker.

They hugged. When they broke apart, Tino kissed both of his hands. He told him he cared about him, he loved him, and he wanted him to always be around. Berwald was crying, but not because he was sad anymore. He was happy to know the people most important to him cared.

He admired each little heart drawn on his skin. He knew he had to wash them off eventually, but until then he could look at them and smile. He took out his camera and took a picture. He wanted to keep the memory of this forever.

Every time one of his friends was sad, he'd pull out a red marker he keeps in his pocket at all times, and draws little hearts on the back of their hand.

AN: whoa terrible fic
sorry