Do You Want To Know How I Got These Scars Novels & Stories

He was pissed that Neil had taken off without guards and still had yet to return, and he was taking it out on me. I groaned and picked the knife up again. By midday, my skin was covered in nicks, bruises, and shallow cuts. My arms ached from the strain, my injured hand trembling every time I tried to grip the knife. Back home, marks like these would’ve been unacceptable—models weren’t supposed to have scars, or any imperfections, really, except for the exciting ones like vitiligo or heterochromia. The thought of permanent scarring twisted my stomach. With my wolf so weak, I was still healing too slowly. And healing slowly meant that the skin was more likely to develop marks.

“Your parents? “Dead,I have no parents”she answered in the same monotone emotionless tone. Aria studied her carefully her eyes running over the scar running from her cheek to her ear,and a scar cutting her right eyebrow.scar noticed her gaze,she bared her teeth again, because that cannot be classified as a smile. “Don't worry I scarred more people,that's were I got the name,I give people scars they live with for life,what use is a business if I don't advertise my own business,so these are my artworks”then she laughed it was dry and bitter.

She then closed her eyes quickly. "Kailani, I know you're awake," I said. "Please...just let me go," she whispered. "I won't cause any more trouble. I'll leave and you'll never hear from me again." "No! We can't let her go!" Theo exclaimed. Ignoring Theo, I asked, "How did you get those scars?" The marks on her arm wasn't there a day ago. She hesitated but eventually gave me an answer. "I got them while hunting. It's nothing serious."

One thing was certain, it wasn’t this outfit. He had wanted a blue low-backed dress that flared out at the hips. I refused, not wanting others to see all the scars on my body. Many of them vanished as my health improved with drinking blood. There were some scars no amount of blood would heal, and those scars I wanted to keep to myself. Don’t get me wrong, I earned them on a level of epic proportions, egging on Madison and then getting strapped to the whipping post. My best scar was on my leg when I had cut up Madison’s favorite dress with scissors, and she caught me red-handed. She took the scissors and sliced my thigh. It had taken months to heal because I was so weak.

“I got this three years ago when the kitchen door slammed into my hand. I raised my elbow revealing another scar. food festival; A guy tried to snatch my purse and I refused to let go of the strap. These are the resulting burns. Do you get my point? Everyone has scars, you do. Your mum does, Wynona, Cartwright…” “You’ve noticed my scars?” He asked with a small smile and I blushed and looked down again, pulling my sleeves down my arm. I had noticed some the first time we had been together, and found the rest the other times his clothes showed them or while we were lounging in bed “I’m very observant.” His eyes watched me, making me nervous. I wish I had not turned into a blabbermouth. I usual

At such a young age, he seemed to have a lot on his mind, and it was showing physically on him. As I massaged lower, I noticed a faint scar on his lower back. I frowned because Theo doesn’t have scars on his body. Despite his intense training, he usually doesn’t have scars, and if he does, they are usually not visible. But this one was visible, and for some reason, I was curious and couldn’t stop myself from asking. “This… scar… how did you get it…” I asked, my voice trembling with fear as I trailed my finger on the scar.

I lean forward, as much as I can without touching him and close my eyes while I answer. I might as well be honest with him, I don’t want to jeopardize this opportunity. “Every time I sleep I dream about the night that man attacked me, I see his glowing red eyes and I swear I can feel it all over again. It’s so.. real.” When I open my eyes again I see he’s taken a step back and his eyes are squinted, as if he’s thinking it over. Then he’s back to looking at all my scars. He reaches forward his thumb is tracing over the claw marks on my shoulder but not in an intimate way, more out of curiosity, “These?” He asks. “Well it’s pretty obvious isn’t it?” I answer a little too honestly. I want to sh

Her soap like milk and wildflowers. Mine. Even blind, deaf, and scentless, I’d know this woman. When I reach her hips, I crouch down, soaping every inch of her. But I pause when I feel rough patches and jagged ridges on her skin. My fingers explore carefully, and my gut tightens with fury as I realise what they are. Scars. I trace one with my fingertip. “How did you come by these?”

These scars had been with her for so long that she'd literally forgotten about their existence or cared about their existence, as if they were already part of her skin. Scars caused by cigarette butts and other hot burning metals. It hadn't occurred to her that Enzo would never see these scars and think she was born with them or something. Fuck, the scars didn't even come to mind. "I'm asking you something, Gypsy!" By now Enzo was breathing hard, his jaw ticking furiously. He shifted her breasts around to see more scars and shot to his feet, glaring down at her. "Who the fuck did these things to you, Gypsy? And don't fucking tell me that it's no one. Because unless you have some kind of self

The only part of my body they had to worry about was my face. Reluctantly, I looked down at my hands. There was a very ugly scar I got from the day my stepmother had launched a very hot metal spoon at me —that should be enough to convince Sara that my scars could not fade. "Huh?" I let out a gasp as my eyes landed on the spot and I could barely make out the once-ugly lines that sat there. I flipped my hand over and checked the other hand, maybe I checked the wrong hand in the first place —but to my surprise, it was the same.