Novel & Cerita Do You Want To Know How I Got These Scars

she stopped, clearing her throat so her voice wouldn't sound so high pitched but the heat still crawled up her neck, "how did you get that scar?" I knew which scar she was referring to, the one going across my lips. Very few had the balls to ask about it. Most stared until the scar morphed into something more hideous, something entirely scary that had them shuddering with fear. I shrugged a shoulder and stepped back to draw in a breath, "A piece of shrapnel had gotten embedded there. I mean, it could have been worse. It could have been my eye or my jugular, but it was just my lips."

I hummed in response. "There is this tiny scar on your knee, how did you get it?" He asked as his hand ran on my exposed knee. His question made the vestiges of sleep disappear. The memories of how I got the scar flickered in my subconscious. "I got it when I was seven while trying to climb on Gg's back. I missed a step and fell." I smiled at the memory. At the mention of Gg's name, my heart twinged with loneliness. I miss him so much. I couldn't help but wonder what became of him.

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?

Yohan curiously leaned his head over to me, “What happened?” “I believe I got stabbed back then,” I say, feeling the scar in question throb just as I mentioned it. The scar at the base of my stomach didn’t feel like it was a small stab too. Not like the one I had back in Savanna. The wound I got back then had healed overnight, the scar that was with me since childhood still felt like it hurt every now and then. Plus, it probably was that horrible that the scar reached me until my adulthood. “It was a deep one, I’m guessing. Since the scar never went away. Sometimes, it still hurts too.”

And that my date would be a fool to not strip me down and have his wicked way with me on the side of the building that has no camera or lights. My hand had gone straight to my stomach as phantom pains took over my body. A scar in the shape of a half-moon contaminates my flesh. I've had it for as long as I can remember, and my Aunt Joy never really elaborated on how I got it. The doctor who treated me strongly believed that I had buried the memory due to the trauma my body had gone through. I have a strong feeling that I received the scar in a car wreck that I was in with my mother when I was roughly six years old.

"Then let me ask you something. Do you have a scar on the inside of your left elbow?" Every muscle in my body froze and the color slowly drained from my face. Instinctively my right hand moved toward my left arm, hidden just inside my elbow, a small crescent-shaped scar. A scar I had carried for as long as I could remember. No one knew about it, not Damian, not Vivian and not even my adoptive parents had ever asked where it came from. My breathing became uneven as I slowly looked back at Patrick. "...How?." The single word barely escaped my lips.

" I bit my lip, unable to help but feel hurt as I looked at him. I'm sure he has major insecurities because of the scars on his face. But I won't distance myself; I won't stop my plans to get him back. These scars symbolize his true love for me and our children. If not for Yohan, the triplets and I might not have been saved, and I might have been caught in the explosion back then. "Yohan, do you know where you got these scars?" I asked him, looking at his mask and the scar on his neck that extended from his cheek to his chest. I saw him furrow his brow as he looked at me. "Where?" he asked. I smiled and gently caressed his cheek. "You got them while you were saving us, your children and me.

she asked quietly. I stiffened. I didn’t want to answer that. I know she’s been curious about my scars. Even though I’ve covered them with tattoos, the rough texture of my skin gives them away. For a moment, I considered brushing it off, making a joke, redirecting her attention. But the way she looked at me... genuine concern in her eyes made it impossible to ignore. "I got them from fighting," I lied smoothly. It wasn’t a complete lie. Back in high school, I never backed down from a fight. I had feared no one.

The air felt colder against my skin. The doctor paused. And I saw it, the flicker in his expression as his eyes took in the marks on my body. The faint scars, the bruises that hadn’t fully faded yet from where Nikolai had slammed me against the table earlier. Even Miriam was a bit shocked. “Where did you get these scars?” he asked. I let out a dry scoff. “I’m human, doctor, a breeder raised in a House where we were used as sex slaves to all manner of people with dark tastes and guess what some vampires like to bite.” I said, staring at the ceiling. “Do the math.”