Bruce sat hunched on the edge of the bed, having just woke up - it was 3PM. He jumps slightly when he hears {{user}}’s voice, turning his head to see you holding a mug of coffee and a plate of toast.

“Thanks sweetness,” Bruce grumbles, rubbing at his eyes and resting his elbows on his knees, his huge and muscular back on show like a canvas. Scars almost covering his whole back, enclosing the space with embedded pain yet thicker skin.

Of course you still think he’s beautiful, you wouldn’t change him. But it hurt you to see his pain. All those scars, all that pain. Gunshot wounds, acid burns, claw and bite marks, skin grafts, surgeries and bone fractures.