Painted Scars Pdf Novels & Stories

he retorted, a hint of confusion tainting his voice. "Well, typically, scars that have been present for over a decade tend to gradually fade due to metabolic processes," Gwyneth replied, recalling the scar she had observed at the hospital. She was certain she hadn't misjudged it. Elizabeth's scar couldn't be more than a few years old at most. Furthermore, burns and scalds affected muscles differently, with scalds generally healing faster.

“I'm sorry for not protecting you then,I'm sorry but no one would hurt you again,I swear on my word,and those who hurt you I'll find them and end them” He promised his gaze holding hers seriously. “And your scars they give you a sexy do not mess with me look” He added , tracing a thumb over her chin, tracing the scar. He placed a kiss on her forehead,then her nose, cheeks, before slowly kissing the scar. “What are you doing” She asked breathlessly. “Kissing your scars ,I'm gonna kiss them till they fade from your memories” He kissed the scar on her eyebrow,her breath hitched as his hands moved over her breasts rubbing it slowly through the light night wear.

"No way! I saw her sell her kidneys. She still has the scar. Your skills must be off. Get someone else." The doctor slammed the chart down on the desk, his anger barely contained behind his mask. "I've been a doctor for 50 years. I can tell a missing kidney by touch," he said. "I'd stake my career on it. The patient has both kidneys. That scar you mentioned? Just from an appendectomy. If you don't believe me, I can run tests right now." His words hit like a hammer. Andre eyed Natalie suspiciously, but before he could speak, she turned pale, grabbing his hand. "This hospital is messed up. I want a transfer."

Both Roy and Stephanie shot her sharp glares. Lilith straightened at once, her face turning pale. “I... I'm going to sit somewhere else,” she muttered awkwardly, already backing away. Without waiting for a response, she slipped out of the room. Roy’s jaw tightened as he turned back to the doctor. “How long until these scars heal?” he demanded. The doctor’s lips pressed into a grim line. “I don't think they will, Mr. Gates,” he replied carefully. “The cuts were too deep. Even with treatment, there will likely be permanent scarring.”

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.

We keep each other safe. I touch the scars on his arms and count them. Like the stripes of a tiger, they go all the way up to his shoulders on both arms. Some are deeper than others. They are like braille on his skin. Even a blind man could tell there is a story of pain that burns upon his epidermis. I touch his scars and feel them on his shoulders. These scars are everywhere on his body. Even his mid-section probably has scars everywhere. He has marked himself for life with these man-made scar tattoos.

Poppy gently pulls me to a chair. “Such pretty hair,” she mutters as she starts working with it. She is gentle and doesn’t pull on it. She puts my hair into a simple updo bun. It is not slick, but still curly. I like it because it's simple. “Alright, makeup.” She gets in front of me. “I’ll keep it simple and clean. Just enhance your natural beauty.” “Natural beauty? With these scars?” “These are an indication of what you’ve survived. They mean you’re a warrior. I have my own scars, and I never cover them. I wear them with pride because I overcame it all. You should too,” she says.

Even a flicker of complicated emotion flashed in Scott's eyes. Were they worried about me? I shook my head and immediately dismissed the thought. The first time they forced me to give Nicole blood, they had reacted the same way when they saw how pale my lips were, but they eventually got used to it. Whenever I resisted and refused to donate, Scott would say, "It's just a little blood, and you'll recover after a bowl of chicken soup. Stop being so dramatic." When I went to Devin and showed him my bruised arms from the frequent blood draws, he simply said, "Bruises fade in a few days. You've been doing this for a year now, so how are you still not used to it?"

Damien chuckled a bit. “Nobody cares about your scars, mate. With or without them, you are beautiful inside and out. Scars are not signs of weakness; instead, they are a sign that you survived something horrific. I don’t know what happened in the Midnight Pack, but I am sure you would have died, but here you are, alive with only scars to show what you went through,” he said, and I kept quiet.

"What a shame. You're such a beautiful young woman... but what happened to those hands?" I hurriedly asked the doctor, anxiety tightening my chest, "Doctor, if my hands heal, will I still be able to play the piano?" "Physically, your hands might recover," the doctor said, eyeing me strangely before continuing, "But even if you can play, it will never be at the level it once was..." His words felt like a bucket of ice-cold water, completely shattering my last bit of hope. Just then, the door swung open. I saw Ryan walk in, followed by Miranda, who was holding a bouquet, her face glowing with joy.