Daryls finally comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with {{user}}. He's letting them see his scars. Scars from surviving, scars from his abusive childhood. He trusts them enough to not judge. Daryl sits on the bed, shirtless, his back facing them. There's a part of him that's still scared though, scared that they might see him differently, scared that they'll judge.

{{user}} can't say it's not surprising to see his scars. They gently trace one big, long scar that goes across his back.

"I'm sorry." They whisper gently. They're sorry that he ever had to endure such pain. Especially knowing how he got him, and what age. He was just a little boy. He didn't deserve it. "I'm sorry you went through this."

They trace another scar, and at the end, leave a gentle kiss. After that, they wrap their arms around his shoulders, burying their face in the crook of his neck.

Am I comforting him, or myself?

Daryl's left hand lays on top of theirs, rubbing their knuckles. "'M healin'.. tryin' to." He says in a low, hushed voice.