Page 45 of Scars and Burns

She could be admiring my muscles but it’s most likely my fresh tattoos. After defeating my Father, knowing I would never receive another burn on my skin from him I decided to take my body back.

My skin is marred from my neck all the way to my feet. His flames wrapped around almost every inch of my skin other than my face. I’ve covered them up with markings of my own. Black as night ink tattoos. Flames swirling and enveloping my skin. Erasing any proof of my Father’s abuse.

“Those are new.” She nods her head towards my arms.

“My arms?” I rotated them. Looking down and inspecting them.

She laughs a little, “No, you fool. Your tattoos. You didn’t have them last time we met.”

My brows furrow. “I don’t remember my arms showing last time we met.”

“No, but your neck was. And I see the beginning, or end, of a tattoo and it flows into your tunic. From what I see it reaches on to your arms and torso. How far do they go?”

“Would you like to see?” I smirk.

Her confidence wavers. Understanding what I am suggesting. “No… no that’s okay. I was only asking.”

“You need not be so shy with me.”

She gives me a mocking look, “And how should I be with you?”

“Yourself” I quirk a brow at her.

It’s an honest answer. I know she’s had to hide her entire life. Sheescapes to the forest because she doesn’t belong cooped up in the castle.

I don’t want to see this shy composed stature she’s concocted over the years. I want to see the woman I saw the night of the raid. The aggression she holds back. The turmoil she keeps at bay.

“I… I don’t know you. I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know your name.”

As much as I want to get to know her. I am not sure of how much of myself I should reveal.

“Would you like to?”

“Like to what? Get to know you?”

“Yes.” I hum.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

Well that’s not a good start. She isn’t sure she wants to get to know me. How am I supposed to take that?

Sensing her words she tries to back track. “That’s not to say I wouldn’t be willing. Or that you’re not worth getting to know. It’s just… I’ve never gotten to know anyone. I’ve never asked. Never been asked.”

I look at her. She must lead a very lonely life. Perhaps, even lonelier than mine. Too shy to give anything away. Too shunned to even think someone could truly want to have a conversation with her.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And I would sit with you for hours to learn everything there is to know about you. To understand you. To be there for you.”

She gawks at me. Fuck maybe I’ve over stepped. Maybe that’s not what she wanted to hear.

“You’re offering to get to know one another?” She questions.

“Yes” She looks me up and down. A small smile creeps onto her face. Curling her lips up slightly.

What could be going through that mind of hers. What is unravelingbehind those mesmerizing eyes.

She lifts her chin a bit, “In what way?”

I smile. In what way is she offering? She is more than just a pretty face. She is hauntingly beautiful.

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