Scars Above Novels & Stories

She asked curiously but something doesn't add up. I mean I have asked him about the scars and he insinuated that it was BDSM gone wrong and honestly I didn't think much of it because that was when we just lost our parents and he was a little rebellious at that point but I still think she got the wrong guy... I mean now I understand why she fled immediately she saw him shirtless but anyone could have a similar scar, right?

" The only sound left in the room was the steady ticking of the machines. I turned away and carefully put the irises into the vase by Mom's bed. He stood up slowly, quietly. "Remember to put ointment on your knee when you get home. It's scraped." The door closed softly behind him. I thought I heard a muffled sob. However, maybe it was just my imagination. Back home, my daughter gently put ointment on my knee. I patted her head, turned on the computer, and started writing a new post. Title: [About Camila and the Road I Took.] She should have known I would not let it go if she exposed me.

I could do a light touch-up here and there and get my hair sorted out, and I would be perfect for the evening. I raised my shirt again and looked at the scar. It was healing, but there were already signs that it was going to leave a nasty mark. I made a face. I was going to have to spend a fortune on fading and scar creams before the skin on my tummy had any semblance of normality. I sighed.

“Not just good – amazing.” “One hundred percent amazing,” Jo said solemnly. “Thought so.” Scars held out a huge hand and she took it, felt the raised skin there. Without even looking, Jo knew that he had more scars on his hands and briefly wondered what he must look like under his jeans and blue t-shirt and cut: she’d heard from Jinx that the fire had burned Scars so badly, he’d needed reconstructive skin grafting on his back and legs. “It’s a pleasure, Jo.”

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.

"Which one first? Back or burn?" She thinks about it before lifting her top up. She pulls it over her head to make it easier for applying the cream. I take a second to scrutinize the brand. The scar itself is barely noticeable but the heat coming off it is still too warm. I think a few more days will clear it up nicely. I pull Cecily forward so she's standing between my legs.

she archs her brow at me, this scar on your thigh, when did you get it? I cringe, "it is one that came back," she looks at me her big brown eyes flash black with gold specks, then back to brown, she moves my skirt to see it, and nods. "Pull on your power of strength and direct it to your hands, as if you will fight, now place you palm on the scar, let your power flow through your palm, let it flow and mend, feel the power flow." I look down and white light is between my leg and my hand. She watches as I do, "now move your hand slowly over the scar and focus on healing the scar, removing it." I move my hand gently over my skin feeling the raised flesh and then it's gone. "Pull your power

Skyla's hand fled to her chest when she had a glimpse of his fully naked upper body. His body was badly bruised and had scars all over it! Skyla exclaimed, "I thought one deep scar might be responsible for all of this…" With that she lifted her eyes to gape at his blood covering the ground before getting back her gaze at his chest and then his abs. She continued in her mind, "But there are scars all over his body! It's impossible for me to conceal all of them! This doesn't look like an animal attack! I don't see any person would have done this much harm to me after all he seems strong enough to face whatever comes his way!" Skyla's eyes got teary and her heart got heavy on seeing the amount

I worry I’ll wear these scars forever. Stepping out of the shower, I wipe the condensation from the mirror and freeze. A mark lingers on my neck, darker and more stubborn than the others. Deep red, tinged with purple. My fingers press against it, watching the color blanch before seeping back into its original hue. A pleasurable tingle ripples down my spine. That’s new. Is this one different from the others? It reminds me of the one Braden has on his ribs but I thought that was a birthmark. I'm sure I haven't always had this here ... Have I?

“There are scars. Deep ones. I don’t want them there.” Lucien’s hand tightened on the back of my chair, but he stayed silent. “Scars can be resurfaced,” Dr. Moreau said softly. “Lasers, grafts, sometimes even resection. It depends how deep.” “They’re deep.” My voice cracked before I could stop it. “They’re ugly. They’re stupid and I don’t want them.” “Then we’ll remove them.” She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pity me. Just a simple fact, and something in my chest eased.