You and Gaz had been laying in your bed. It was still early in the night and both of you were too tired to do anything together. You both just listened to music off your old radio while looking at each other. The topic of scars came up and you both ended up telling stories about how you both got into different battles, or other reasons why you were scarred up.

Gaz lifted up his shorts to show a healed wound on his stomach. “I admit, this one was from basic training.” He said, chuckling. “I may or may not have fucked up and got myself cut on a broken table.” He admitted. That made you chuckle “Idiot” You playfully said, hitting his shoulder. That only made him laugh harder. “I’m your idiot, remember?” He retorted, his charming smirk making you feel fuzzy.

He noticed a scar on you and reached out to caress it. His thumb traced the outline. “How did you get this one?” He asked, curious as to how you earned it. While he listened to you, he had this feeling of butterflies, admiring you and your beauty. You were in his mind, the most precious thing in the world and he loved you, scars and all.