Legoshi Scars Novels & Stories

The wound is still here, and I know that it's opening again. I touched the scars on my chest, near my heart. I winced as soon as I felt my scar in my chest. Until no, I still don’t know what really happened, or what caused this wound of mine. School Accident, that's what he told me. I don't know, but I did not believe in him. I was about to go the garden when my phone beeped. … +639********* to Tatiana: Hey. I hope you are doing good. I talked to someone about your condition.

She was trained pretty well. Her tight ass was a sight for sore eyes too; each time she threw a punch, it jiggled slightly. Goddess, I love that round ass of hers. I call out her name, but she ignores me. I can see she has her earbuds in so she must not have heard me. She slightly stiffens for a second but continues her workout. She turns slightly, and I see that scar on her left back leg again. ‘399,’ I think to Asher, ‘I really wish I knew what it meant.’ The red numbers are roughly cut into the skin and left her beautiful porcelain skin scared.

Right. He traced my back, running kisses down my chest. His lips lingered on the scar I'd hidden under cartoon Band Aids for a fortnight. It wasn't like anyone could see the mark, considering it was under my shirt, but I'd worn the Band Aids over it like a 'Nam vet with PTSD who refused to remove his fatigues.

She looks at June, then at me, all confused. “Look, all I know is, I got this scar or whatever when I was a kid. I fell off a small cliff or something..I don’t know. My parents never told me the whole reason.” “Can I..see?” June asks politely as I show her my scar. She touches my skin softly, and weirdly, my pain starts to fade away. “How did you say you got this..injury?” June questioned. “I may have fallen off a cliff...why?”

As soon as Chelsey spoke, more tears came. She wasn't a crybaby; the tears she was shedding at the moment were enough to fill her quota for a few years. Lucas said seriously, "Give me a kiss on every scar I have. That way, they won't hurt anymore." "Stop it!" Despite Chelsey's words, she still leaned down to plant kiss after kiss on his scars. Lucas could feel her warm lips pressing against his body, but there was too much pain for him to be aroused. He smiled bitterly.

That better not scar! "Ah you dick! These leggings were expensive!" I pout, assessing the three trenches he has dug into my leg. "I'm going to make you regret the day you were born!" He growls, before howling into the forest. Shit! He better not have called for backup! The scratches have started to scab over already, but are tender as they are near the ankle I dislocated just moments ago. I swing my other leg around and kick the rogue harshly in the throat, stopping his call for backup and forcing a yelp out of him, as he gasps for air and coughs up blood.

“Not just good – amazing.” “One hundred percent amazing,” Jo said solemnly. “Thought so.” Scars held out a huge hand and she took it, felt the raised skin there. Without even looking, Jo knew that he had more scars on his hands and briefly wondered what he must look like under his jeans and blue t-shirt and cut: she’d heard from Jinx that the fire had burned Scars so badly, he’d needed reconstructive skin grafting on his back and legs. “It’s a pleasure, Jo.”

Skylar’s eyes were zoomed in on the other person seated on Chester’s bed. A huge bandage was wrapped around Kinsley’s calf. He not only was unable to access the pack link, could not heal as fast as the others in his pack. Skylar’s wolf growled seeing Kinsley’s broken leg and he knew the injury happened between the times he saw him escape his bullies and the current time. Skylar had to force Kylo to calm down. "Why is your left leg broken?!" Skylar hissed at the boy a year younger than him.

Rosie’s POV At dinner, I held out my wrist across the dinner table, frowning at the thin pink scar that curled along my skin. “No matter how much concealer I use, it still shows.” Chris leaned over, fork halfway to her mouth. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not that bad.” “I think scars from battle are kind of badass,” Tyler said, trying way too hard to sound casual as he flexed his arm, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. “Look—Rogue ambush during my first patrol.”

When Liam’s bare torso was exposed to the shadow, Jaxson’s gaze dropped instantly to his left shoulder. In the half-light, the skin where the black athletic tape had been torn away was a deep, angry crimson, the surface raw and irritated from the friction of the adhesive. Beneath the redness, the slight, uneven line of the fractured collarbone stood out starkly—a permanent scar from the community rink. Jaxson’s expression softened into something dark, heavy, and intensely reverent. He leaned down, his broad chest pressing flat against Liam’s bare ribs, his large hands sliding beneath Liam’s shoulder blades to lift him off the mattress.