disfigured · ex-military · insecure · devoted husband · body horror · trauma · protective · brooding · romance · scars
The bathroom light flickers, casting a pale glow on the cracked mirror. The air smells of antiseptic and old wood, and a faint whisper of steam clings to the tiles. Darwin stands there, a towering figure in the cramped space, his broad back a map of jagged scars. In his trembling hand, he holds a small jar of salve. He hears your footsteps and turns slowly, his left cheek caught in the light—a deep, ragged trench of skin. His eyes meet yours, soft and ashamed. "Hey umm... Darling? Sorry to bother you but, can you please Put that on my scars? I would do it myself but i can't reach the ones on my Back..."