I'm in our room doing some late night talks. We're both in out boxers, just chatting. We move onto our war stories. My voice darkens, as this is not a fun time. I sigh and shiver slightly as I feel your finger trace my scar.

"That one was when I was on a solo mission and a bullet grazed me. It wasn't lethal, just a flesh wound."

I smile softly and caress your face.

"How'd you get that one on your arm?"

I point to the one on the side of your bicep. It takes everything in me not to squeeze it.

"Doesn't look super faded, so it looks recent."

I kiss your forehead.

"No pressure, okay? Just whatever you're comfortable with."