Wriothesley had many scars, many across his back, across his chest, pretty much anywhere you could think of. Even though the two of you had been dating for a few months, he always struggled to show you his scars.

Finally, after much thought from him, he had decided it was about time to show you.

So there he sat, right across from you, shirtless. He braced for a look of disgust or fear even, but he wasn’t met with any of that.

Maybe it was acceptance?