Legoshi Scars Romane & Geschichten

He said, before giving me another kiss on my forehead. He walked ahead and shifted. Goddess, he had good, strong legs and an amazing ass. I looked down at my body. I still had the scars on my shoulders, ribs, and legs from that day. I didn't have Beth yet, so they couldn't heal as well. They were a constant reminder of everything I wished to forget.

"Time they're sorry for all of this." I sat at my desk, flipped on my laptop, and opened a new folder. I titled it Project Rise. And in that script, I began making a list of every vulnerability, every threat, every weapon I had at my disposal to strike back. Victoria's business partners. Cassandra's father's company. Jake's compulsion to be number one. Anything and everything were up for grabs now. They thought I was finished. They thought I'd just vanish into thin air, marry some dull fellow or reappear in thin air.

And just like yesterday, Leila suddenly spaces out, staring at Carmela’s bare and smooth arm. Why does she have no scar? Leila glances at the identical scar she and Carmela got on their wrists from ten years ago. They both just woke up to the wound on them and it was the very same night Carmela got the Phoenix mark. Carmela still has that scar, even after all these years but her arm that was torn open by the rogue’s claw has no single trace of a scar? “Carmi, your arm-” “My chicken! It’s going to get burnt,” Carmela shrieks, pulling her hand away from Leila and scurrying to the oven.

"What, is Mom not as important as some junk locket? You know what happens if her condition worsens." "I know." I cut him off, my voice cracking as I crouched on the floor. "No one knows better than me when she loses it." My old scars burned as I recalled it. Like a volatile child, she'd speak kindly one moment, and the next, brand me with a hot poker. The smell of scorched flesh haunted my nightmares. Andre fell silent, knowing how diligently I had cared for Evelyn, but a moment later, he hardened again. "I got it, you don't want her to get better."

Like I have two dimples when I smile while Emily has two but one is not that deep. I have a small birthmark just above my navel, which Emily doesn't have. When I went out two days ago to meet up with Maddie at Starbucks, people were congratulating me on my wedding. I was too embarrassed to say I'm not the one getting married but my twin. Nobody will believe me, anyway. So I thanked them and smiled politely at them. At the mall, when we went shopping for wedding gifts, someone congratulated me, and I told him I wasn't the one he never believed me.

Leo said “Okay, this Is my leg,” Saraphina said, and she stretched her legs, and Leo saw the scar on her leg, and Leo asked, “did you know anything about this scar?“ “I grew up with the scar” Saraphina retorted, “did you know something about the scar?“ Saraphina asked, “never mind, go back to your cabin, I will come back shortly,” Leo said, “but you haven't given me any clue of what Is happening,” Saraphina said,

It was like asking a flower not to bloom under healing, restorative sunshine. Lea took a deep breath and let go of her sarong. It slipped to the pool deck at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the green costume. Her leg was criss-crossed with vivid white scars and dents where muscle had been grafted from her thigh to her calf. Her leg had been through a long, hard battle to avoid being amputated and had only just won. And it showed.

Marcus stepped behind her pushing the wheel chair out of the ward. Scar is seated on the bed wrapped in a duvet,she looks pale and weak with eye bags. Marcus set the camera facing her properly,her scars that made her look formerly dangerous now made her look vulnerable,like someone beaten down by life,a number of times. “Good day guys,I'm Scar ,yeah that's how I remember my name, though people call me Lisa but I don't feel connected to it” She coughed, Marcus passed her a handkerchief,her hands trembled as she collected it,she coughed into it,her body trembling as she coughed,she raised her tears filled eyes, sniffing softly.

I could feel his member pushing on my thigh through the jeans. He lifted me up slightly removing my shirt. His eyes widened as he saw the scar covering from my shoulder to the bottom of my ribs. I had forgotten about it in the moment. I could sense his anger rolling off him as he focused on the imperfections of my body. He leaned in and kissed me passionately. I felt his bare chest press against mine as my body gushed, soaking my panties. A deep groan came from his chest as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

As he moved, the moonlight caught the skin of his back. Amora’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen Oscar in work shirts and t-shirts, but she had never seen him bare-backed. Crisscrossing across his broad, muscular shoulders and running all the way down his spine were thick, pale, jagged scars. They weren't the clean marks left by a wolf’s claws during a fair fight. These were deep, twisted tracks—the kind left by silver-tipped whips or heavy, electrified batons. Without thinking, driven by a healer’s instinct she had inherited from her father, Amora reached out. Her fingertips softly brushed against the edge of a thick scar near his shoulder blade.