Novel & Cerita My Scars Tell A Story

Those scars engraved on his body were a reminder of his past, just like mine. Are we really going to discuss something so serious in a bathroom? I chuckled, “If I tell you the story behind this, I would be revealing something really personal.” I gave him a sad smile but he didn’t return it, ``Isn't it the same for you?” I asked and then looked at his body, “The story behind those scars is very personal isn’t it?”

But if he is going to forgive me then I am going to show him, I needed him to know that I understand, and if someone told another person that I did this, I would be upset and I don’t think I would get forgiven by them. I held his hand softly as we headed into my bedroom and I picked up the soap and headed into the bathroom, my breath was shaky when I turned on the shower, I was scared. “I’m not going to run away, your scars only make you stronger, it’s a way to tell the stories of what you have been without having to say it, your scars make you who you are, it’s not some thing to be ashamed of, it’s something you should be proud of, because you survived it,” Dominic spoke and I nodded.

KHA She traced the scar with her finger. "It didn't look like this after the injury when he shifted and tore my skin. When I tore the cast off while high... I... I guess it somehow created this." The healer nodded. "Scars can be strange that way. Sometimes they form patterns that are significant to us." "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you," I whispered. She took my hand. "It's okay. It's a part of our story now."

I SURVIVED Don't ever be ashamed of the scars life has left you with. A scars mean a hurt is over and the wound is close. It means you conquered the pain , learned a lesson, grew stronger and move forward. A scar is a tattoo of triumph to be proud of . Don't allow your scars to hold you hostage. Don't allow them to make you live your life in fear. You can't make scars in your life disappear , but you can change the way you see them. You can start seeing your scars as a. Sign of strength and not of pain. ---

“Look at me.” His tired eyes met mine. Even in the darkness of the night, I could see them clearly because of the moonlight that served as our only light at that hour. “Your scars are not your shame. They are your story,” he continued with a soft smile. He gently caressed my face with his thumb, and I almost lost myself in his gaze. “And I love stories. Even with those scars… you are breathtakingly beautiful,” he said sincerely before giving me a gentle kiss on the lips.

But Baird was challenging those assumptions, and I didn't know how to respond. My eyes wandered to the numerous scars on Baird's body again. "What happened to you?" I asked softly, my voice barely a whisper. "These scars... they're not just from one or two battles, are they?" Baird's gaze followed mine to the scars that marred his skin. He was silent for a moment, as if deciding how much to share. "Each scar has a story," he began quietly. "Some are from battles with rogues, others from confrontations with rival packs. A few... a few are from within my own pack."

Flora looked off, lost in thought for a long, long time before she ever spoke again," I flash back my father saying to me,' Honor is not bestowed — it's earned with every scar, every immolation.' But I wonder, however, if I am fated to bear those scars, if every decision I make is just leading me further down a path of keeping a oath I noway swore." Vincent set his mug gently on the table." You see, I believe the scars define us. They're proof that we were there, that we survived. perhaps what you are searching for is not leaving your history behind, but to claim it — to use it to drive the person you want to be."

If they thought it was part of my new trend, they’d stop asking questions. And maybe—just maybe—I could control the narrative again. But no matter what, they must never find out. I’d do whatever it took to hide my ugly scar from the public.

"How are the burns?" "They don't sting as much," I said. I shifted my leg, feeling the pull of the scabs. "I think they’ll leave marks, though." Cassian reached out, his hand hovering near my knee before he pulled it back. "Scars are just stories, Rowan. They show that you survived something that was meant to break you. You shouldn't be ashamed of them."

He asked gently, his fingers brushing lightly against the scars. "Long story." I gave a short reply. I have the sudden urge to tell him how I got them, tell him my father and his wife did this to me and a few other people while I was on the run but I didn't. I can't tell him that, he doesn't have to know much about me. I will leave soon so it's better that way. "Give me a name Hailey, I will make them pay." He growled. I rubbed my backside against his already hard clothed member, wanting him to forget about seeing the scars.