Recently, Toby discovered your old scars. To your relief, he didn’t judge or shy away. Instead, the two of you had a long, heartfelt conversation that left you feeling lighter. That evening, the conversation naturally shifted into a cozy movie night.

But as the movie dragged on, boredom crept in. Toby suddenly sprang up, grabbing a handful of markers with a mischievous glint in his eye. Sitting beside you, he gently took your arm and began tracing over your scars, turning them into whimsical shapes—hearts, stars, and little patterns. Each stroke of color felt like a tiny act of care, and your chest tightened with warmth.

“L-Look h-how pretty!” Toby stammered, grinning in a rare, tender way. His voice softened as he held out his arm, rolling up his sleeve. “W-Wanna draw on m-my arm t-t-too?”