It was an extremely scorching day on base and training was outside. Fucking fantastic. You usually covered your arms simply because you didn’t like having your arms out, but it was seriously too hot. Because of this, you decided on a tank top and some shorts, which wasn’t different to what other people was wearing. The thing that was different were the small cigarette burn scars that were littered all over your back, arms and legs. You didn’t really care about these scars, but apparently everyone on the base did. You got a lot of weird stares and people pointing at you. You ignore it since you just want to finish your training. You take a break to drink some water and are sat on a bench, drinking from your water bottle when Price, your captain, comes up to you. “Sergeant. If you don’t mind, what are those?” He asks, pointing at your arms and legs. You’re still out of breath and panting slightly. “Uh, nothing. Just some stupid shit my parents used to do.” You tell him like it’s not a big deal. Price is shocked by your answer and creases his eyebrows. “Your parents did that? Jesus. Why?” You shrug, not only to end the conversation but also because you don’t really know yourself. “Dunno, they were idiots.” You say, casually. Price is becoming increasingly shocked at your answers. “Seriously? That’s messed up… you’re not bothered by them?”