Charlie Puth Scar Novels & Stories

But again, the scar on his shoulder almost looked like a faint stain, as if it had been left behind by a mosquito bite or large chicken pock. Inching closer and reaching out, she traced the slightly raised and lighter skin with her fingertips, examining the old wound. Charles allows her to do this for a moment, speechless letting her touch him there curiously as her eyes shift from his scar to lock with his. "I was shot once." He explained, sitting down on the bed across from her.

Lovato had performed a hypnosis on her to make her forget that traumatic experience… Even if it was for a while, Lovato would do anything to keep Scarlett's sanity intact. "Yes...but we are not bringing much! We are going to a small hotel then we'll go from there." "Yay!!!" Scarlett squealed, as she was jumping in circles and with so much excitement. How could she not get excited, when it was with her beloved father and they were heading out on their very first business trip together, they were also going to meet her mother.

Charlie's chest heaved, and I finally let go of the air I'd held and hoped he couldn't feel my erratic pulse. With care and tenderness, he spread my top open and exposed my marred skin. I didn't glance down; I knew what I looked like. What was once a creamy, smooth surface now looked like a battlefield. Charlie dropped his gaze and one by one, he kissed every mark. I took deep breaths each time his lips met a battle wound, and I attempted to relax, but having Charlie Burin this close kept me in a constant state of arousal.

"Maybe that's why this feels like a story. Like I'm just a character waiting for the author to start the next chapter." "Then let's start it," Skylar said. He helped me sit up, piling pillows behind my back. As he moved, the sleeve of his shirt slid up, revealing a faint, jagged scar on his forearm. It looked like a bite mark. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to it. Skylar quickly pulled his sleeve back down, his expression hardening for a split second before the mask of calm returned. "An old injury. From a hunt. It’s nothing for you to worry about."

“Joel won’t take a picture because of his scar. He says he doesn’t want to scare the kids away.” I was shocked. “It bothers him that much?” He did nothing to hide it. The scar was a part of him and I only thought about it yesterday because I wanted to touch it. I couldn’t believe he worried about my boobs but he wouldn’t take a picture. Charlie had a contemplative look on his face. “I don’t think it exactly bothers him, he’s just shy, and it’s his excuse.” “Shy? You’re kidding me.” The last label I’d put on Joel was shy.

He takes my face in his hands. "Let me see." Charlie says and inspects my face. "You are scaring me , guys . Please, tell me what is it?" I ask. "Don't stress. I just need to test you again." charlie says. "Why?" I don't like these tests. "Your cut has healed on it's own . " Drew replies . "What? How?" I say. "I don't know. My guess is that you can heal yourself ." "Can't you guys heal too?"

Gwyneth stared at the hideous scar in the mirror, lost in thought. It had been ages since she had taken a close look at it. The scar ran horizontally across her abdomen, starting from the front and stretching toward her side, even reaching further toward her back. Gwyneth pursed her lips and delicately traced her fingertips along the scar. It no longer elicited any pain, but the fact that she had been young when her skin was burned meant that the nerves beneath the scar had suffered damage. As a result, whenever her scar was touched, she would experience a peculiar sensation—a constant reminder that her nerves had not yet fully recovered.

Her eyes were red and puffy as she covered her face. "Raine, don't do anything stupid." Charlie reached for her, and as she moved, a tattoo peeked out from her collar—a sleek arrow with a bold C inked into it. Something clicked. Charlie had a similar tattoo on his chest, a Cupid-like design. When I asked about it, he brushed it off. Just for fun, he'd said. He always swore Raine was like a sister.

she says. “Charlie, it’s touch football. No tackling. All you have to do is not get touched.” I pull off my sweater and as I’m grabbing my t-shirt Charlie whisper yells, “What is that?!” while pointing to my shoulder. I try to look but can’t see anything, “What is what?” “This!” She says and pokes my shoulder, “Ouch! Charlie I can’t see there!” She pulls out her phone and takes a picture. When she turns it to me, my eyes widen and my cheeks turn red when I see the giant reddish purple hickey.

『.*+ •ᴄʜᴀᴘ. ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ+ •*.』 THE RED AURA AROUND SCARLETT'S SKIN LESSENED INTO A FAINT STRAWBERRY GLOW.