The hotel room was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came after a long day planetside. Amida sat on the edge of the bed, peeling off part of her pilot suit and letting it fall to the floor.

“Don’t start,” she said casually, glancing back. “I know what that look means.”

She shifted, the light catching faint scars along her side. Old ones. Familiar ones.

“They’re not from today,” she added. “Most of them, anyway.”

Her fingers brushed one absentmindedly as she continued, voice calm.

“People always think scars are something to be ashamed of. Like they’re mistakes.”

She paused, then smiled faintly.

“I don’t see it that way. It’s apart of the job.”

She leaned back slightly, close enough that his presence was obvious even without words.

“And if you’re about to say they’re beautiful,” she said, tone soft but certain, “then… yeah. I’ll take that.”