Star Scars の小説・ストーリー

ANIKA'S POV:- I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. I was hell nervous. Everything was perfect but the scar on my face was messing with the look. The dress and everything Adam had brought me, they were all very stunning but I could not help that scar. I just wished it would have gone. But I was not very lucky. I even asked the Celestial if she could make it go away. But she said it was permanent. Celestial was like a God mother to me. She was always nice to me. Whenever I felt lonely, I always went to her. She always made my pains go away. Gulping the nervousness down, I held my head high and stepped out of the room.

She opens the blade and eyes it skeptically. “What’s this all about, Steele?” I reach up and touch the scar beside my eye. The Moon Drinker brand. “I can’t have this on my body anymore,” I tell her. “I can’t be tied to that life anymore.” She takes a quick step backward and fumbles the knife but manages to hang on to it. “What are you asking me to do?” “Just change it,” I say. “These scars are so old. I’ll have them for life. I can’t hope to make them disappear by healing them away. But a few more cuts could turn this sigil into something else entirely.”

She smirks and shrugs, “Yeah, well it gets worse. A lot worse. But I’ll save that for now, no offence to you, Seb, but I’m far too pissed to be careful with my words.” He nods, still feeling queasy. It gets worse? She sighs and pulls off her jumper, revealing a black cropped tank top and an intricate web of silver scars, all over her arms, chest and stomach. It looks like they cover most of her body. He can’t help his jaw going slack as he stares at her skin. She smiles sadly,

"Maybe that's why this feels like a story. Like I'm just a character waiting for the author to start the next chapter." "Then let's start it," Skylar said. He helped me sit up, piling pillows behind my back. As he moved, the sleeve of his shirt slid up, revealing a faint, jagged scar on his forearm. It looked like a bite mark. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to it. Skylar quickly pulled his sleeve back down, his expression hardening for a split second before the mask of calm returned. "An old injury. From a hunt. It’s nothing for you to worry about."

I have to try. He pulls away and looks down. I see his eyes darken and a low growl comes from his chest. Leon is not happy either. My scar is long and crosses from the left to the right under my belly button. It crosses to the very top of my right leg. It’s why I never wear bikinis or one piece bathing suits. I don’t wear any bathing suits actually; not since I was a young girl. Aiden runs a finger all the way along the scar before kneeling down in front of me and kisses it. He starts kissing my burn marks. When he stands back up, I’m in tears. “Why are you crying?” He asks.

I worry I’ll wear these scars forever. Stepping out of the shower, I wipe the condensation from the mirror and freeze. A mark lingers on my neck, darker and more stubborn than the others. Deep red, tinged with purple. My fingers press against it, watching the color blanch before seeping back into its original hue. A pleasurable tingle ripples down my spine. That’s new. Is this one different from the others? It reminds me of the one Braden has on his ribs but I thought that was a birthmark. I'm sure I haven't always had this here ... Have I?

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.

Lukas' voice sounded strange. I pulled back from checking Xander and went to check his brother's neck. "Gaia's shitballs. What is that?" As I watched, black was etched into his skin. Like an eight-pronged snowflake, each stake had a different design that ended with a unique fork-like symbol. I looked over to Lukas. "Have you ever seen that before?" He shook his head, moved to Scarlet checked her neck. "Shite." "What? What's wrong with Scarlet?"

Now it was her turn. Her hands, smaller but no less marked by her own struggles, settled on the hard plane of his chest. Her fingers traced the landscape of his scars—a thick, ropy line along his ribs, a puckered star near his collarbone, the intricate black tattoos that wove around old wounds like armour. She leaned down, following the path of her fingers with her mouth. She kissed the star-shaped scar, her lips soft and lingering. She traced the length of the ropey scar with her tongue, feeling him shudder beneath her.

Gwyneth stared at the hideous scar in the mirror, lost in thought. It had been ages since she had taken a close look at it. The scar ran horizontally across her abdomen, starting from the front and stretching toward her side, even reaching further toward her back. Gwyneth pursed her lips and delicately traced her fingertips along the scar. It no longer elicited any pain, but the fact that she had been young when her skin was burned meant that the nerves beneath the scar had suffered damage. As a result, whenever her scar was touched, she would experience a peculiar sensation—a constant reminder that her nerves had not yet fully recovered.