Scars Meme

Derek tried to ignore the way her fingers danced along the slightly raised scar that marred his otherwise unmarked flesh. He knew that it was odd–a werewolf with a scar–many had asked how that was even possible considering their accelerated healing, but no matter how many times people asked about it, he kept the explanation a secret, a private memory that was his (and Peter’s) alone.

Without realizing it, he shivered beneath her touch, eyes closing momentarily before he snapped back into reality, hand reaching out with enhanced reflexes, fingers curling around her wrist before pulling her away.

“Don’t.”

That was all he said. It wasn’t snapped. It wasn’t bitten out between clenched teeth. It was uttered softly, barely even loud enough for the Slayer to hear even with their close proximity, and it spoke volumes.