A/N: Thank you for your reviews, I really appreciate it!
netherlady: I was thinking about a multi-chapter story about them. Hope to start writing as soon as I decide on the plot ^^
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Scars
There are few scars on his body; each one is a memory of something. The markers of his life are presented in those thin white lines.
The scar on his chest is a memory of his first death, of his initiation. He would not heal it, even if he wanted. There is no twin scar on his back: that's odd, because the sword went right through his torso.
The scar on the palm of his right hand is barely discernible, the memory of his loss. Soon it will disappear, kissed to oblivion.
The scars on his hips, five on each side, slowly disappear too, smoothed out by kisses and caresses. It still hurts. Every time he pleads to stop, but whisper in his ear, that it will be okay, he'll like it because this all is only for him, and he purrs and moans and begs for more, yeah, like that, please, please, that's so good…
The scars on his arms are nonerasable. Thin white lines cover his inner forearms from wrists to elbows. Despair is mixed with concern in them, because his blood is the best painkiller in the world. His wrists and elbow flexions are his sweet spots, licking them is enough to turn him on; it is a shame, that they are ruined.
The scars on his heart are the worst; it is difficult to heal them, but they are working at it.