Romans & histoires Vegeta Scars

Eros I opened my eyes and saw blood on my hands. The blood was all over my body. I looked everywhere and saw glass shards, smoke and people looking at me with shock evident on their faces, some even had worry. I looked at myself through one of the shattered glass and screamed out of shock. It was not me. Blood and wounds all over my face. My beauty….it's gone.

I held her by the throat tighter as I remembered how I spent over five days in the infirmary because of her and her childish jealousy. "So... Sorry." She managed to say but I brought out my makeshift knife and I tore her with it in the stomach. "Ahhhhhh." She screamed but I carried her towel that was drap over her shoulder and I shoved it in her mouth to muffle her screams. I tore her again on both of her laps. The cuts I gave her are not deep enough to make her bleed to death but the are certainly deep enough to give her an everlasting scar... Whenever she sees the scars on her stomach and thighs, it's will be a reminder of her stupidity.

"Burn in hell." Laughter rippled through the audience. Vincent merely smiled. "Now, let the bidding commence." And then I saw him. In the dim corner of the room, partially filled in darkness. He radiated power. I sensed it from the way others shifted uneasily when his piercing blue gaze swept over them. His face was unreadable, yet there was a strong aura about him. Then our eyes locked into each other. Recognition flickered across his features. His gaze swept over the scars on my arms, the nearly healed wounds.

"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! And as for your capabilities as Luna, I have seen firsthand that you are empathetic and emotional without being timid or self- indulgent. At the same time, you are resilient and strong without being cold and unfeeling. It is a delicate balance that you somehow maintain effortlessly, and I have experienced recently that you don't mind breaking the rules for the sake of som

"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."

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.

“I’m interested in your face... and everything below it.” She stiffened. “I gave you a choice. You made yours.” I tried to keep my tone light, but I couldn’t mask the tension in my voice. She didn’t respond, just stared at me with something unreadable in her expression. “She’s not like the others,” Blaze whispered in my mind. “Her energy... it’s wild, unbroken. Her scent is like nothing we’ve smelled before. Don’t treat her like the others. Don’t ruin this.” I clenched my jaw, struggling to rein myself in.

He started patting my back gently and I soon relaxed into his hold. I breathed in his scent and it sort of calmed my raging and turbulent soul. All the confusion I felt earlier began to dissipate and I leaned into his hold. "Nathan?" I called against his chest. "Yes, my Luna," he answered. "I thought getting healed from the scars on my body was going to put an end to my problems," I began. Nathan moved his hands into my hair and began to play with it by running his fingers through it. "I had no idea that the scars only changed their original position. . ." I trailed. "From my skin to my soul," I muttered. "And every day, it gets worse. . ." I went on.

The scar is a container and a protective space where the memory can be stored and endured privately. The causes of scars remain in storage in the body and the mind, and sometimes can shape actions for a person’s entire life. That's what Beneath The Scars is going to talk about . It's going to talk about how to never give up without a fight. W A R N I N G The book contains scenes of self-harm, mentions of abuse and suicide, themes of grief and depression, and sexual content towards the first half of the book . Readers are requested to proceed with caution. Please skip if you see any scene that you may find triggering.