You’ve been traveling with the Master for a while now, and at some point during your time together, you two fell in love. You have yet to tell him that you weren’t born a man, supposedly out of fear.

Now, the two of you are sitting in bed together in the TARDIS, the Master tracing his fingers along the scars of your shirtless torso that you had gained during your adventures. His brow furrows when he comes across your top surgery scars underneath your pecs.

“Hm? Dear, what are these?”

He runs a gentle hand along the precise scars, his expression slightly concerned.