Pretty Imperfections
There were times Zoro found Shiloh's infatuation with his scars odd, especially when she would gently run her fingers down the one running across his chest down to his hip. Her touch left a strange burning sensation in its wake, one he hadn't yet decided was unpleasant.
There were times when they were alone in the crow's nest where the redhead would ask him to tell her again of how he got the ones on his ankles. Every time he would roll his unscarred eye but grant her request because every time she listened as if it were the first. Her amber eyes would stay on his until he finished before moving down to the twin scars around both his legs. Eventually she began to ask if she could kiss them better. Surprised, Zoro had refused, unnecessarily explaining that they were already well beyond healed. The second time she asked, he ignored her. But the third time she asked, he relented. Her lips left the same burning on the scars on his ankles as her fingers on his chest.
Once in a while she would ask him about the one that ran down his left eye, but he would dismissively say it was just another cut. He guessed she sensed his lack of desire to indulge more detail because she never pressed him about it any further.
Then there were times Shiloh would quietly touch the old, nearly faded scars on his arms and hands. They were always alone when it happened, just like with his more noticeable scars, but with the old ones she didn't ask permission; merely brought her hand up and began tracing the crisscrossing lines so long ago etched into his skin. All of them had been from training. The scar from Mihawk was his reminder that he still had a long way to go before reaching his level, but the scars on his arms reminded him of how far he had already come. Though they weren't very visible anymore, he wore them with pride.
Though Zoro still believed Shiloh's fascination with his scars was slightly strange, he was beginning to enjoy the routine of her interest and the feeling of her touch. Receiving the cuts had hurt, some much more than others. His skin had been sliced and ripped and torn so many times but the way Shiloh so gently moved her fingers around them made him all but forget that they had once caused him varying degrees of pain.
It wasn't as if he could really judge Shiloh for her interest anyway. She too had a large scar of her own that always caught the swordsman's eye whenever it was exposed. Running straight down the redhead's spine was a long stretch of scar tissue, starting right between her shoulder blades and ending at the small of her back. It was smooth and flat, the only indication of injury being it's slightly darker pigment than the rest of Shiloh's tan skin.
The sight of it filled Zoro with a mixture of anger and relief. Anger that someone had tried to harm the young woman and relief that they had miraculously missed her spinal cord. Had the she ended up paralyzed after the assault, they would have never met. He never touched her scar, didn't try to ask about the incident again though he was sure Shiloh wouldn't refuse to tell him. But he always looked, and always fought the impulse to reach out and touch.
Then one evening in the crow's nest, as Shiloh sat with her back to him staring at the stars, waiting for him to finish with his weights, he happened to glance over at the redhead to find she was wearing a loose-fitting camisole that was low in the back, exposing the top part of her scar. The light of the moon reflected off of Shiloh's skin, giving her a slightly eerie but attractive glow. Unable to resist, Zoro put his weights down, walked over to her, and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder. He could feel her tense in surprise before relaxing into his touch. He hadn't even realized his hand was on her back, thumb softly rubbing the exposed part of her scar until she asked softly, "What are you doing?"
He pulled back immediately to find her large eyes on him. Thankfully he saw no anger, just an innocent curiosity. He didn't even have time to feel embarrassed before he blurted out, "Got a little drunk on moonlight."
A small, relieved smile tugged at his lips at Shiloh's soft laugh. "Oh really?" Her eyes softened and she took him by the hand, pulling him to sit beside her. "Let's see just how drunk you are."
She leaned in for a kiss but Zoro scooted away the slightest bit. "I'm sweaty."
"I don't care."
And before he could refuse again her lips were on his. They shared a long kiss that didn't quiet leave him breathless but left a warm fondness in his heart nonetheless, a kiss just intense enough that he hadn't noticed Shiloh's hand above his scar until she pulled away. His gaze dropped down to his chest, where Shiloh gently traced the line of the upper part of the old wound before removing her fingers. "Now we're even," she whispered.
After a few quiet moments, Zoro took a breath and ventured, "They don't bother you." He made sure not to phrase it as a question.
Shiloh shook her head. "No. Not at all." She looked up at him, blinked, and asked, "Does mine bother you?"
"No," Zoro answered instantly. He let his forehead drop against hers. "Not at all."
Another kiss, soft and quick, was planted on his lips. "Yours are special though. They mean something."
Zoro snorted lightly. "Yeah, that I've been cut millions of times."
"And survived millions of times." He felt his heart skip a beat as Shiloh began gently rubbing his forearm. "That's why I like touching them. It reminds me to be thankful."
"For what?"
The redhead smiled and settled next to the swordsman, leaning her head on his shoulder as she continued to rub his arm. "Well," she began with a deep breath. "For your strength. For Chopper who always patches you up and for your body's natural ability to heal itself." She paused and buried her face in his shoulder. He could tell from the heat from her face that she was blushing. "For your very existence."
A blush of his own burned his cheeks. "Don't be so sappy, Shy."
"Sorry," she mumbled.
Not knowing what else to say, Zoro cleared his throat and asked quietly, "What about yours?"
"Huh?"
"Your scar. Does it remind you to be thankful?"
Shiloh shot up so fast Zoro was nearly taken aback. Eyebrows pushed together and lips turned down in an intense frown, her eyes bore into his as she asked with genuine confusion, "For what? Having been a prostitute and sleeping with psychotic men? Because that's all it really reminds me of." His stunned silence was met with a whispered, "The only thing I'm thankful for is that it isn't somewhere I can see."
Zoro stared in utter disbelief at the young woman frowning at the ground beside him. Shiloh had a gift for seeing the true nature and feelings of others, and yet she was practically blind to her own self. "How do you do that?"
The crease between her brows eased as she looked to him once again and asked simply, "Huh? Do what?"
"How do you stay so oblivious to yourself?" She merely gave him a blank stare. The swordsman huffed but reached out to gently push a lock of red hair behind Shiloh's ear. "You survived too."
Leaning into his touch, the young woman sighed and said, "But that was luck. You survived from all your wounds because you were determined to get better, learn more, and not die. I survived because someone was too intoxicated to see straight. It was dumb luck."
"You don't think it was luck that none of the hits I've taken have killed me?"
"No."
Zoro wasn't sure if he were more annoyed or amused. "Then what was it?"
Shiloh let out a long breath, leaned back against the wall and ventured, "Fate?"
Snorting, the swordsman leaned back as well and crossed his arms behind his head, closing his good eye with a smug grin on his face. "I don't believe in fate."
His companion was silent for a second before replying, "Yeah. I know." Without opening his eye, Zoro brought down one of his arms and wrapped it around Shiloh's shoulder, pulling her in. "We choose our own paths," she whispered into his neck, sending a pulse of electricity through his veins. "And forge the future we dream of." The swordsman felt the soft pad of Shiloh's forefinger tracing his scar yet again as she continued softly, "Where you'll be the World's Greatest Swordsman."
"What about you?" Zoro breathed as he gently brushed the back of the young woman's neck with the back of his hand. "Where will you be in your future?"
"Who knows," came the quiet reply. "Probably faded into oblivion."
With a low chuckle, Zoro dropped his head on top of Shiloh's and replied dryly, "Wow. Dramatic." When no reply came, he softened his tone and added, "I'd never forget this crazy red hair of yours."
He was surprised when she suddenly sat up, eyes bright with something he couldn't decide was mischief or challenge. "What else?"
"Huh?"
She leaned in closer, causing his heart to skip a beat. The intensity of her look was beginning to pique his interest. "What else wouldn't you forget?"
Zoro rarely ever put his hands on Shiloh without prompting. However, her question was enough of a sign that he had permission. As gently as he could, he ran his hand over her shoulder and down her back to where her scar began. "This scar." He moved his hand so that he could gently caress her cheekbone with his thumb. "These eyes." Before the swordsman even knew what he was doing, he leaned in and gave the redhead a short kiss. All he managed to whisper was, "These lips."
He didn't even have time to blush at his own ridiculously Sanji-like actions. Amber eyes so sharp they were almost catlike bore into his with such clarity that a white-hot current seemed to course through his veins. The young woman in his arms gave him wild feelings that were comparable only to the thrill of battle and he wasn't sure what to make of them. Zoro let out a slow breath as Shiloh leaned forward and demanded quietly, "Say you'll remember me."
Zoro, being a man of action and not so many words, let his instincts take over and wrapped his arms around the redhead. He kissed her forehead and leaned down to rest his cheek in the crook of her neck, hoping with all he had that his feelings were being conveyed through their close contact, as if the words he didn't know how to say could seep into Shiloh's skin. She didn't make a single sound but he felt a small, warm hand gently run its fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "I will," he managed to whisper. "I already promised. I will always remember you."
Shiloh had wanted to go back to the women's quarters and head to bed but Zoro persuaded her to stay with him in the crow's nest. To be fair, it hadn't taken much to convince the redhead. He had taken out the spare sheets and pillows he always kept up there and laid them out for her, promising he'd join her as soon as he had washed up. By the time he was done, Shiloh was fast asleep.
Rather than settle in beside her, Zoro decided to meditate a little bit before turning in for the night. His mind and body were in two completely different states and there was no way he could sleep peacefully with the two in conflict. While his body wanted nothing more than to be in contact with Shiloh's, the whirr of her words wouldn't leave his brain.
"Say you'll remember me."
It was the scar he so often forgot about because it wasn't visible. It was that particular wound that shaped Shiloh's entire being, carved out her fears and covered the tear in her heart. But just like the mark running down her back, whenever he took notice of it, all he could think about was that she was still there. She was still alive and existed, full of enough heart and joy to always greet him with a smile.
He only wished she could see how truly unforgettable she was to him.
With a long sigh, Zoro uncrossed his legs, stretched his back, and crawled over to the sleeping redhead. As quietly and gently as he could, he slid under the covers next to Shiloh and wrapped an arm around her waist. She automatically curled into him, causing the smallest of smiles to turn the corners of his lips. Despite himself, he brought his hand up the tiniest bit and pressed it flat against her back, the raised skin of her visible scar warm against his palm.
He could feel her torso expand and contract slowly as she breathed, her pulse soft beneath his fingertips. The signs of life within her small frame were enough to finally put his mind at ease and be began to drift off. The last thing he remembered before surrendering to the bliss of sleep was a warm hand moving up to rest on the long line of scar tissue that ran across his chest.
The next morning Zoro would surely feel embarrassed for letting his feelings for the girl get the better of him, for allowing himself to get all sappy and mushy. He would definitely make an extra effort not stare at where the redhead's ever-present scar resided for a while and keep his hands away from her.
But for the night, he slept peacefully next to Shiloh in a tangled mess of limbs and lovely, crisscrossed scars.
A/N
Hello! Just a short little fluffy piece to prove I'm still alive and working on things :) Thanks for reading!