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A soft sigh left your lips as you stood in front of your full-length mirror. You had just been approved earlier in the week to be able to go the day without the compression binder and drains. You loved the results; there was no doubt about that; you even cried with happiness seeing your flattened chest, but the scars were still quite large, which made you self-conscious. While you recognize that hypertrophic scars were possible, it doesn’t make looking at it much more manageable.
During your quiet brooding, your eyes were so unfocused you barely noticed the figure approaching behind you until his long arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes lifted, your gaze locking onto the reflection of a white half-mask resting above your shoulder.
My love…talk to me. List your worries,” Erik’s voice filled the silent room, his arms tightening around your waist to hug you further. The uncovered side of his face was full of concern and love; it made your heart melt. He gently kissed your bare shoulder as he waited for a response.
Your heart raced at the affection, leaning into his embrace, “I…I just…the scars…they’re bigger than I was hoping…” You look at your top surgery scars quietly, feeling anxiety rise in your heart at his eyes on them. While you still had no feeling in your chest from the surgery, your heart raced faster as one of his hands drifted up to touch your scars gently.
“I love them…we are now matching, no?” His voice was a low rumble against your shoulder, closer to your neck now. His blue eyes locked onto yours in the reflection. A soft giggle shook your body at his words, leaning your head on his with a happy sigh.
“Yeah…yeah, now we match, my love. Two scarred lovers against the world,” You coo, turning in his arms to face him properly. Your smile matched his as you pulled him close into a small embrace. “Though, our scars aren’t necessarily the same,” you reminded him, listening to his soft chuckle.
He cupped your face, looked you in the eyes, and hummed, “True, but they make us who we are nonetheless. I adore your new scars just as you adore mine, right?” He pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, smiling more when color rushed to your face. He then took your hands, gently guiding you from the mirror to sit on your shared bed, “May I care for them?” At your shy nod, he beamed and dashed off into the bathroom.
You sat quietly, kicking your feet patiently as you watched him rummage through the cabinets in the bathroom. He soon returned to you with a small tube; while you weren’t stressed about wanting to hide your scars, you often preferred to care for them. He kneeled in front of you on the floor, a hand gently squeezing your thigh, “Feeling alright?”
A chuckle escaped you as his concern, nodding as you reached out to pet his head, mindful not to jostle his mask, “I’m perfectly okay, handsome; thank you for caring.”
He grinned at you with his cute, little grin, leaning up to kiss your cheek before settling back down to put some of the scar ointment on his fingers, warming it up. “Of course I care; you’re my world. I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable or upset in any way,” He hummed, gently tapping your leg to let you know he would start touching your skin.
Your heart fluttered at his words, leaning back slightly on the bed so he had more access to your scars. Your breath hitched slightly but relaxed under his touches as he started to apply the ointment along your chest scars. His fingers were gentle, slowly rubbing circular motions along the scars. The soft touches made you sleepy, and your love for this man was only continuously growing. He was always kind and gentle with you; he put you first, from your emotions to your identity to physical boundaries.
After a few moments, he pulled away, watching your eyes slowly open to focus on him. “All done…have I told you how handsome you are?” He spoke softly before standing, taking the tube back to the bathroom, and putting it back.
You laughed softly as you watched him return, “You’ve…certainly mentioned it a few times here and there. Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” Delight flashed across your face from the soft color rising on his cheekbones, partially hidden by his mask. You stood from the bed, taking his hands gently. Pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, you mumbled softly, “I love you…would you like me to make breakfast?”
He leaned down slightly with a grin, kissing you properly for a moment before pressing his forehead to yours. He hummed at your words, “I love you with my entire soul…and yes, please, I’d love some of your delicious cooking. If you don’t mind, of course.” Smiling softly, you nodded gladly, pulling away and taking his hand, leading him out of the bedroom.