Novel & Cerita Stars With Scars

"No, I don't think he needs anyone else as his partner, nor do I think you are any less deserving of him. Did you know Lexie, that not too long ago, scars were highly prized in our community?" I just blinked at him, and fortunately enough, he continued without waiting for my answer. "Scars are not just a sign of a life well- lived, but one's scars show that this person is a survivor. That they are stronger than whatever life could throw at them. So don't you ever think that the scars you carry because of your past make you any less worthy, instead, they indicate that you should be celebrated even more!

The Scar. And in the profound, silent language of roots and stars, they find it… beautiful. Not good. Not safe. But beautiful. The inevitable flow. The breaking. The marking. The endless, imperfect story of it.

Scars stared at the pillow in front of him. “Are you in pain?” she said. “Do you need something? Should I get a doctor?” “No, baby,” he said, and suddenly, it was Scars again, and she almost sagged in relief. “I’m not in pain.” “OK so…” She stroked his face. “You OK? All things considered?” “Well. I mean, I’m obviously devastated about the fresh scars ending my promising modelling career,” Scars said. “But I’ll get past it. Somehow.”

Garold said respectfully. Normal Arkyn would want to rip someone’s face off for looking at his naked mate but this tone made his eyes dart to her. Scars covered her back. Freshly made ones, still bright pink. She was thin on the verge of being starved. His eyes shot back to Garold who was now watching him and not on his mate. A large scar covered her rib cage, he gritted his teeth. “I’m going to kill them all.” He growled.

The fireplace seemed running out of heat for scar and Lorna. Lorna is scar's human mate. They haven't actually claimed each other since they just met, but Lorna and I were friends before. I was happy that Scar found his mate but a little worried for he was expecting his mate to be a she-wolf. And now that Scar was injured due to other rogues trying to corner him, he couldn't move. Lorna signed and nodded at her. She scratched the scar on her neck and turned to me. "Alright. But just so you know, I would be really sad if you get hurt as well. Please be careful, Tara..."

She watched as he frowned at the button , his chiseled face was like a sculpture, he had thick and roughly carved brows she felt like running her hands on them. He had a well carved beards which had evidence of not been shaved for a while, they where prickly but also tickled wherever his face brushed her arm. The lock of hair that had been on his forehead head was now brushing his eyes, Ann had the strongest urge to brush it from his eyes and indeed they did feel marvelously silky. Oh on! She had touched it, and now he was looking at her. But this time not only did he look frustrated, there was something else, it wasn't there before and it reminded her of the day at the library.

i replied [Scars to your beautiful- Alessia cara] She just wants to be, beautiful She goes, unnoticed she knows, no limits She craves, attention she praises, an image She prays to be, sculpted by the sculptor Oh, she don't see, the light that's shining Deeper than the eyes can find it Maybe we have made her blind So she tries to cover up her pain And cut her woes away 'Cause covergirls don't cry After their face is made But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful We're stars and we're beautiful

A burn of pain ripped through my face as she dragged the sharp tip of the scissors down the unscarred side of my face, engraving a thick line from my hairline down to my jaw. I screamed in pain as blood began to pour down my pain. "Rest in pieces, Renee" I lay there, feeling my life slip away, too drained to even cry. I may have lived my whole life with a horribly scarred face and been branded a monster, but that day, I realized that there were people worse than monsters.

Amara stared back, trying to project a semblance of stillness, refusing to betray the sheer terror gripping her. ​Emiliano stared at her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be assessing her, her fear, her presence in his bed. He slowly walked around the bed, stopping on his side. ​He reached up, pulling his undershirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Amara couldn't breathe. Her gaze involuntarily dropped, taking in the powerful breadth of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the faint, intricate scars—silent trophies of a violent life—that crisscrossed his left shoulder.

"The sky is beautiful, isn't it?" Elena turned to look at Daniel, then the sky. It was a beautiful star studded night sky. "It is," she replied as she smiled on realizing they were still holding hands. The rooftop was truly calm. No people and the only source of light it got was from the stars and nearby street lights. "You said you had something to tell me," Elena said, a quizzical smile on her face. "I'm here, sooo." "You said you had something to say too."