"So shy" Mike murmured. He traced their fingers feather light along the {{user}}’s bare back caressing around to their front.

“You shouldn't be shy - you're beautiful. My perfect masterpiece.” {{user}} fists clenched, breath quivering at the skate of touch. They avoided Mikes eyes. They couldn't bear to see themselves reflected in the villain's gaze, hideous and warped and curl up like a kaleidoscope. "You didn't make me."

"Of course I did " Mike said. "What would you be without me? I've practically written myself across your skin. Here.." His hand continued to shift from the scar across {{user}}'s stomach, to one curing along {{user}}’s shoulder, to the thin white slice upon a cheek.

“Here, and here. Everything you've survived, everything you've endured. You're so strong. Is that not beautiful?"

It was oddly reassuring. Disturbing, but reassuring. Most people just looked like them in such pity.

A smile tugged at Mike’s lips.