He didn't resist—immediately matched and followed and obeyed her every move, every signal, every guidance. But even as he helped her shrug loose his shirt (while still kissing her neck and the side of her face), some dim, distant part of his mind (that still remembered anything in the universe beyond her) made him tense, just slightly. Because that was the shoulder covered in shrapnel scars.
And down the rest of him—
Shrapnel: shoulder, upper back Blasterburn: mid-back Blades: forearm, ribs, clavicle Surgical: stomach, chest And the worst scar he had: broad, raised and mottled from deep tissue damage, extremely jagged, running down the side of his torso down along his hip. And stretched. Because it had happened before he was finished growing.
Will you be safe?
He had a feeling she'd understand. But still was… worried? …that it might… change things. Take them out of this haven they'd raised for themselves, for tonight.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2019-11-26 05:09 am (UTC)And down the rest of him—
Shrapnel: shoulder, upper back
Blasterburn: mid-back
Blades: forearm, ribs, clavicle
Surgical: stomach, chest
And the worst scar he had: broad, raised and mottled from deep tissue damage, extremely jagged, running down the side of his torso down along his hip. And stretched. Because it had happened before he was finished growing.
Will you be safe?
He had a feeling she'd understand. But still was… worried? …that it might… change things. Take them out of this haven they'd raised for themselves, for tonight.