Novelas y relatos de Do You Wanna Know How I Got These Scars

I peeled off his tshirt carefully not wanting to cause him any sort of pain. Now he was sitting shirtless before me calmly waiting for movement and I sat on my knees scooting closer to him. My eyes started scanning his strong masculine body intently. They stopped abruptly catching an old scar across his right collar bone, It was a three inches rough mark. I traced my fingers over it gently as if my touch will pain it. "How did you get this", my voice was heavy.

He replied, short and to the point. I hated how my eyes stayed glued to his body when he tugged his shirt off, showing off the rippled sculpture of his muscles. Scars littered his skin, proof of his fight to rise to the top. I wondered how he earned some of them, particularly the scar that spread from his left peck to his hip line in a clean diagonal.

"I have scars too, Casey; some faded and some will always remain. I covered up a fair few of them but believe me. You're beautiful, baby. You are so beautiful, I don't care about what you look like. The scars show you survived. It's part of you and if you don't like them, then that's also okay; you can do whatever you want to them. Tattoos or skin grafting, of they allow that or if it's even a thing to do,. Let me look after you" His strides come over to me quickly and all though I feel scared and exposed, even though I haven't taken anything off, I nod my head and begin with my socks. I have a scar on my foot from where they burned cigarette buds into my foot at the top and I have chain sca

“Oh my god your covered in scars” “Yeah” I mumbled while looking at my feet “You poor thing, no wonder none of the guys are trying to get with you. Your damaged goods, I thought my boobs looked bad with the scars after my surgery, but you are covered in scars, and you don’t even have large boobs to make up for it”.

“Where did you get those scars from?” She remembered the ill way she had been treated at her step-parents' house, the way she had been bullied in school, and worst of all, all she went through at the hands of Shawn. All those experiences left both physical and emotional scars on her, the worst ones coming from Shawn. There was a little scar on her cheek that was starting to fade away. Another scar on her neck, this one was more obvious and looked fresh, there were also various scars on her hands and tummy and she had almost forgotten about them.

Before I got my eyes off of him completely, I whipped them back and zoned in on the huge scar on his back. A burning curiosity overcame my mind… Was that scar from the plane crash? It looked so… healed. Like it was much older than just a year old. Where did he get it from?

Like he'd decided the risk was worth it. I undid the next button on his shirt. The one I'd been staring at for the entire conversation. His skin appeared — warm, smooth, a scattering of dark hair across his chest. The scar on his ribs that I'd seen in some corporate photo and had spent probably way too much time fantasizing about. "Tell me where you got this," I said, tracing the scar with my fingertip. "Rock climbing accident. Freshman year. I was being stupid. Fell twenty feet and got impaled on a rock outcropping." He exhaled as my finger traced the length of it. "Should have killed me. Barely missed everything important."

My cheek was burned with pain. "When did you become so vicious?! Judy is pregnant! You must apologize to her right now!" Before I could say anything, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me over to Judy. He forced me to kneel, and I could feel the shards of glass digging into my knees. The sharp pain shot through my legs. Just then, he suddenly stopped. He grabbed my hand, and his gaze landed on the ghastly scar. "How did you get this scar?"

I hurried upstairs to the bedroom to change clothes. I am currently standing in front of the large mirror in the bathroom. I can clearly see my whole body, especially when I take off the robe I am wearing. The scars on my chest and shoulders immediately come into view. When I try to look at my back, I see two more there. They are the scars from Yuan’s gunshots. They left marks, and they are very visible on my skin because I am fair. Somehow, I feel like he left these scars intentionally, so I would still think of him every time I see them. The scars that made my heart break even more. The scars that made my whole being feel disgusted and afraid.

His fingers reach out and trace my arm — the one with the scars. His lips doesn't curl in disgust instead he watches them with curiosity, stroking it gently with profound tenderness that I bite my lips to prevent a moan from slipping out. “How did you get them ? ” His voice is deeper, rougher yet at the same time gentle. “From a fire accident,” I answer simply, my mind cloudy. No one has ever looked at my scars like that. They never ask how I got them but whisper vile insults at me. Yet he did.