Veronica looked up at me with such fear in her large eyes, I could feel it radiating off of her. She turned her head down, away from me.

"How can you stand to be around me?" she whispered. "How can you put up with all my childish phobias?"

"Because I've wanted nothing but to hold you like this since the moment we were a meter apart. Because I know exactly how you feel. Because even though you're terrified of most things, you're still adorable no matter what."

I tilted her face up so she was looking at me again.

"Because I love you; and no thing, no fear, no body is ever going to change that."

A faint smile formed on her lips at those words. I laid her down on the mattress next to me and lay down beside her. Even though I had hardly slept once in the past two years, I was exhausted now. She reached up to wrap her arms around my neck. I closed my eyes, burying my face in her hair. I realized then that for the entire time I'd seen her in the past two months she had been wearing long sleeves. Even to bed, which she never did unless she wore shorts; which she didn't do now and I bet she hadn't done in a while.

"Why do you always wear long sleeves and pants now?" I asked her softly.

"It's winter," she said. The fact that that wasn't the only reason was obvious in her voice.

"Yeah, but it wasn't cold two months ago, and it's not that cold in here."

I could feel her stiffen next to me.

"If you saw the scars, you'd understand," was all she said.

"Then let me see them."

"I can't," her voice was growing softer and softer with every word.

Gently pushing her back, I looked at her face.

"Veronica, you trust me, right?"

She nodded her head in response.

"If you can't show them to me, who can see them? You can't hide them forever."

Knowing I was right, she released her arms from my neck and laid down in surrender. Sitting up, I stroked her cheek a few times with my hand. She looked scared, but showed no sign of resist.

"No matter what your body looks like, I'll always love you the same as I always have." That seemed to reassure her a little bit.

I slowly lifted the thin shirt from her small torso. What lied beneath it was horrific enough to turn a black cat white. Almost every visible part of her body was covered in ugly scars. Some still faint scabs, other were old and healed over, but still visible where they crisscrossed. They were such a shock to see after getting to know her as the beautiful, flawless person I had come to know. The burns were the worst part. They were huge and dark and I could still see the glimmer of their flame on her skin.

I looked at her sorrowful expression, turned away from me. Her long arms were raised above her head on the pillow, where they had fallen when I pulled her shirt off. Looking back down at her body, one noticeably large mark ringing her waist and continuing under her sweatpants caught my attention. Tugging lightly at the waistband, I slowly pulled them off, watching Veronica's face the entire time. Her face remained turned towards the window, but her eyes watched me out of their corners. When I pulled my eyes away from hers, the sight that greeted me was even more terrifying then what as above it. The scar that had first drawn my attention dripped, literally, down her legs in thick paths down to her knees. The look on my face must have tipped her off on my shock.

"Acid," she whispered.

No. How could someone be so cold as to pour acid on someone so innocent, so small and defenseless? In the back of my mind, I could hear her screaming for mercy, but her cries being acknowledged by no one.

Instinctively, I crawled back up to where her face was and hugged her around her torso; she barely moved. Sensing the moisture coming from her eyes, I laid her back on the bed. Seeing the tears falling stirred a wave of anger in me; how could anybody even think of harming that perfect face?

"How did I not notice this that one night…," I wondered out loud.

"Make up can do wondrous things," she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

God, I felt like an idiot. Even in that dim light I should've been able to tell something was off.

"None of what happened was your fault," I told her.

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

"I should've left sooner," she said softly.

"It wasn't your fault," I repeated.

She opened her eyes, still looking to the window.

"If I'd left I wouldn't be so ugly now."

I picked up her small hand from the pillow. It looked do small and delicate in my hand. I stroked the soft skin of the backs of her fingers with my thumb. I had always loved the way they looked so child-like and yet could work magic on anything she touched. Even now, with the scars, they still had something about them that just made you want to hold them forever. I brought the back of her hand to my lips and kissed it ever so softly. Then I moved to each of her fingertips, her palm, her wrist, her forearm to the crook of her elbow. I continued upwards to her shoulder, then over to her collarbone. I could feel her heart beat quicken the slightest bit.

"You are everything ugly is not," I breathed on her skin.

Tilting my head up, I started kissing and sucking on her neck. I could feel the air rushing in and out of her throat.

"Tom-," she breathed. I took it as a 'Please don't stop.' I was way off. "Tom- please- stop."

I immediately lifted my face to look at hers. With one arm still lying limp above her head and the other still held in my hand, she laid there, frozen in place with a helpless and scared expression on her face.

"Veronica, I'm sorry. I got carried away."

She closed her eyes as her limbs started shaking and recoiled into her body. She looked as though she was in pain.

"Veronica, please look at me," she continued to shake as gruesome memories flashed through her mind.

Doing the only thing I could think of, I placed my hand on both of her hers, stroking her face with my other.

"Dear my love, haven't you wanted to be with me and; Dear my love, haven't you longed to be free?" I started softly singing one of her favorite songs, one she always said reminded her of the two of us.

By the time I got to the second chorus, she had stopped shaking and was once again turned toward me with her arms wrapped around my neck. By now we were both exhausted, and I fell asleep as I finished saying the last line of the bridge.