A Bloody Mess: Yami x Reader

15: Scars

"DINNERS ALMOST READY!" someone shouted from down the hallway.

"Ooh, yay! I'm starving!" I said excitedly to Yami. We had been cuddled up for the last hour, just enjoying each other's company.

His arm wrapped around me while I laid my head on his chest. He was shirtless but had thrown on a pair of sweats, while I wore an oversized shirt of his and only underwear. It felt so comfortable and natural being with him like this.

I let it sink in that we had finally given ourselves fully to each other. It wasn't my first time, and it was far from his, but it had felt so different from any other encounter. I only hoped he felt the same way... that he meant what he said.

This was special.

"So," he said while rubbing my arm softly. "You love me, huh?"

"Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are," I teased before lifting up my head to look at him. "But yes, I really do."

He grabbed a cigarette off the night stand, lighting it and taking a drag before responding, "Good, because I love you too."

I smiled while I rested my head back on his chest, closing my eyes peacefully.

"Y/n," he called before hesitating. "your scars..." it was all he managed to say, but I knew what he was getting at.

I sighed, "yea, I've got a lot of em..."

"They all from those shitty people who raised you?"

I chuckled softly, "mhmm."

"Some of them, the ones on your side, are they cigarette burns?"

Ok, so I guess he wants to know everything...

"Yup.. The ones across my back are whips. And I've got that scar on my chest from being stabbed. I think that one was meant to kill me, but I had just learned to heal myself."

He was quiet, just listening.

"I've gotten a lot better at healing myself since then. I don't really scar anymore, but that one was pretty much an experiment so it's pretty gnarly."

Still just silence... I hate how awkward this is.

"Luckily, they're only in the middle of my body, so even some of my shorter shirts don't show them. And you..." I looked up, "What's this tattoo for?"

I touched the shield imprinted on his chest over his heart. It had a small, decorative crest on it. A symbol of some sort.

He puffed out smoke, "It's for a friend who passed. Reminds me who I'm fighting for— the people around me. the people who go into battle with me."

I smiled lightly, "You're kind of soft, you know that?"

He grunted, "whatever. Tell anyone and you're dead."

I chuckled, "Hey, I have a tattoo too. Want to see?"

A smiled curled up on his face, "Absolutely."

I sat up and slowly pulled up my shirt, letting my back face him. I had a moon tattooed in the center of my back. No one ever saw it since it was always covered by my shirt and my bra.

Plus, I never showed anyone because it was right in the center of some of my gnarliest scars, which I desperately tried to hide from anyone and everyone.

As my shirt lifted and it came into view, Yami sat up too. I flinched as his hands trailed softly over my mangled and tattered skin.

"Y/n," he whispered. I knew he was referring to my scars, but I only wanted to talk about the tattoo. A pleasant memory in the midst of all that horror.