[Set somewhere after Cordelia rescues Misty, although she is not blind again and still has mismatched eyes.]

Trigger Warning: Self-harm.

There are moments of life when you cannot cope with the stuff that goes on in your life. There are moments when you feel the need to feel the pain, to see your own blood emanating from the cuts in your skin. For a moment you feel bad for damaging yourself, but the release of the tension makes it worth it. You forget about your worries, and you feel alive, even if it is just for some minutes.

Cordelia had thought that for more than ten years now. The first time, her hands were shaky as she held the blade against her thigh and she couldn't stop sobbing. She still remembered the reason of her first cut: her mother leaving her there with no other explanation than 'You're a burden to me'.

But now, now she didn't feel sad. She just felt empty. Her mother's words had stopped upsetting her long ago. Fiona had never loved her daughter, and if she did she hadn't showed it. Cordelia had always been taken care of by other persons – her old nanny, the maid of the academy or Aunt Myrtle – and though she had always seen the redhead as a motherly figure and loved her with all her heart, it had never been enough to compensate the fact that she was alone. Though she had tried to find another way to release the stress – including taking pills to fight her eternal depression, cooking classes and smashing all the ceramic pots of the greenhouse against the walls – she had never succeeded.

She suddenly remembered her mother's words.

"You can't help me," she had said, infuriated. "You can't help anyone. You're worthless. Hopeless."

And Queenie's statement.

"You're just as weak as you've ever been. You might wanna take one long-ass vacation. Let somebody else run this joinder for a while."

And Myrtle's mocking proclamations.

"Your salad dressing is absolutely magic, maybe you could bottle it. Cordelia's Conjured Coriander Condiment. Or if you'd like a little getaway, maybe a job as a hostess on a cruise ship. You've got a lovely personality and you're always well-groomed."

Every single adjective used against her felt like a dagger digging into her body.

Useless. Weak. Disgusting. Stupid. Helpless. Naive. Ignorant. Clumsy. Insecure. Foolish. Immature. Worthless.

The blade finally made contact with the headmistress' skin, making her feel the pain as tears ran from her mismatched eyes through her face, drawing her jaw line and finally falling on the fresh cuts.

Broken.

"Miss Cordelia, are you here?" she heard Misty ask from behind the locked door of the bathroom. "I'm sorry for entering your room like that, but the girls are going out tonight, and I thought you could teach me to do the dandelion potion..."

"Yes, I am here" the headmistress answered in a thin voice that was barely perceptible, trying to suppress her cries and sobs.

"Are you okay?" the witch asked, noticing the crack in the woman's voice. "You sound strange."

"I'm okay, really. Just wait one moment, I'm getting dressed." she lied, ignoring the pain on her upper leg and starting to hide all evidence of her actions in the white cupboard. The swamp witch was one (if not the only) person that didn't seem to despise her; and Cordelia didn't want to lose her admiration. She wiped her tears with a towel and unlocked the door. "Hi."

"Are you okay? I heard weird noises."

"Yes, I just... tripped."

"Are you sure? You look sad."

"No, everything is okay."

"What's that?" Misty asked, suddenly spotting blood-stained tissues on the sink behind the teacher and gently pulling her aside before entering the room. "That's blood... is it yours?"

The headmistress didn't answer at first, but she walked closer to the swamp witch and started throwing the tissues on the toilet and flushing it. "My nose was bleeding."

"I've got the vibe that you're lying to me." she said, looking to the woman's eyes and studying her face. She was dangerously close. Cordelia shifted her weight to the other leg, the friction between the cuts and her skirt making her choke momentarily. Her fingers instinctively hovered over the cuts, and Misty's look moved from her face to the headmistress' fingers. "Miss Cordelia, are you hurt?" she asked, squatting to examine the woman's legs. Her fingers ran from Cordelia's knee to her ankle and then to the other leg, with a mixture of insecurity, gentleness and fear. Cordelia shivered under the touch of the swamp witch's cold fingers.

"Misty this is highly inappropriate." the older blonde said, as the swamp witch's fingers traveled upwards to her knee and started to lift her knee-length skirt. "Misty, stop." Cordelia said in fear, feeling the woman's fingertips about to touch the lowest cut. The swamp witch inhaled deeply as she felt something irregular in Cordelia's thigh. The older woman panted. Misty removed her hand with determination and grabbed the headmistress' hand, dragging her to the bed and making her sit, ignoring the woman's complaints. The woman approached the bedroom door and locked it.

"Misty, let me explain..."

"Shh." the woman hushed her, kneeling in front of the headmistress and uncovering the reddish cuts again. All of them were different in size, and some of the wounds were just small reddish scars in the woman's pale skin while others still bled. Misty mentally counted them, her hands resting on the headmistress' knees.

One, two, three.

Ten, twenty, thirty.

Maybe even more.

"Oh my God…" she whispered, feeling breathless as she looked up to meet the woman's eyes. "Cordelia, when... when did this start?"

The woman didn't answer.

"Tell me, please." she said, making the older woman sigh.

"It started years ago, when I arrived to this house."

"Why?"

"I guess it was the best way to keep in control after my mother left me here."

"And… now?"

"Now it has become a way to have control over my body, because I can't control anything else in my life."

"Cordelia, I know that your husband thing affected you a lot and-"

"This isn't about Hank. Yes, I suffered a lot because of him, but he's not the cause. I've been clinically depressed for years."

"You mean like... with doctors and pills and that kind of stuff?"

"Yes. I've been taking antidepressants for a long time, and I've been going to psychotherapy every month since I was twenty."

"I… I'm sorry, Cordelia. I'm so sorry."

"Please don't be. I don't need your pity."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I don't pity you." Misty reassured her, taking the headmistress hands between her own and placing a soft kiss on the woman's knuckles. "I know this probably won't help, but I want you to know that for me you are the most wonderful woman that exists in this world. You've always been there to help me, and I really want to help you now. I'm not going to force you to stop doing this, although it breaks my heart to see this. You're the most wonderful person I've ever met. Even though you are really modest and sometimes you underrate yourself, I think you're the brightest witch I've ever known, and the most compassionate. You opened the doors of the academy to me, even though you didn't know me at all. I like the clumsy but nice way you walk, and I love to see how motherly you act with the girls. I love that spark in your eyes every time something funny happens, and though you always try to hide it, I think your laugh is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I also love how passionate you are about potions, and I adore the way you smile when you get them right. You're the woman of my dreams, Cordelia."

The headmistress, who had been listening to her in complete silence, closed her eyes and started to cry again. "But I don't deserve you, Misty. I'm worthless, and a fool. And I'm not beautiful."

"You are the bravest person that exists in this world, Cordelia. You would sacrifice yourself to protect the girls, and if that's not the most courageous thing someone could do I don't know what it is. You're not a fool, and you're not worthless." she stated, wiping the woman's tears away. "But the most important thing is that you are actually gorgeous. I don't care that you have scars. You wanna know why?" she asked, suddenly standing up and dragging the headmistress to the center of the room. She took off the shawl that covered her shoulders, and the piece of clothe fell to the floor, followed by her lacy dress and undergarments. "I have scars too."

Cordelia's eyes, that had been locked into the swamp witch's ones all the time, traveled down to her neck and her collarbone, where a small scar was located. Her eyes ventured below, discovering more tiny little pearl-colored scars that travelled through the woman's curves and tangled throughout all her naked body, like small pieces of a painful mosaic that had been carved into the witch's skin.

"I was really weak after I got burned, and though I did everything I could to make them disappear, they're a part of me now. They tell my story. They're the roadmap of my failures and triumphs. These scars remind me that I'm a survivor. And you are too, Cordelia."

"Can I…?" the headmistress asked, not finishing the sentence. Misty nodded slightly with a petite smile. Cordelia's fingers ran softly over the scars, a tender caress that made the swamp witch shiver under the woman's touch. After stroking every single one of the scars of the woman's collarbone, Cordelia hesitated, until Misty's hand found hers and intertwined their fingers and pulled her closer. The headmistress swallowed hard as she felt the curly haired woman press their bodies together, being careful of not applying any pressure on Cordelia's thighs. The headmistress lost herself in the witch's gaze once again, before closing the small gap that was between them, pressing their lips together tentatively.

"Come with me. Let's get the cuts clean." Misty whispered a few seconds later, gently pulling the headmistress to the bathroom. Without saying anything else, she lifted headmistress' dress over her head, exposing her white torso and black colored underwear. She suddenly felt self-conscious of the red scars of her thighs. "It's okay." Misty whispered, cupping the woman's face with her hand as she let the dress fall on the floor. The headmistress stood out of her shoes and took a deep breath.

She had been naked in front of people before, but they had never looked at her with the tenderness Misty did. Her underwear was finally slipped off, her bra unbuckled and the straps pealed from her shoulders, Misty's gaze taking every inch of pale skin in a loving way. Misty helped Cordelia to get in the shower and then entered with her, turning the tap on. A blast of cool water fell on them, wiping away the droplets of blood that remained on the woman's thighs.

"Thank you." Cordelia whispered with a shy smile, pulling the other woman in an intimate embrace and burying her face on her neck.

"Always."