Mirror, Mirror

3.21 Scars

Almost 1 year later...

It was a beautiful summer day, and Starla and Rayvin were hiking. It was the same mountain they had hiked together back when they were training. They had both fully recovered from the physical trauma—and started recovering from the mental trauma—of the previous year.

Starla had recovered from the injuries she had sustained from the Winter Crown. The scars around her head had healed, though there were obvious scars. She had cried about how she would never be beautiful again, and Rayvin had soothed her and told her the scars would fade with time and that she was and would always be beautiful anyhow.

Rayvin had recovered from his chest surgery, which he had gotten as soon as Starla had recovered. He was now shirtless, which was a common sight nowadays since the weather was warm, but mainly because Rayvin was so happy about his chest. Starla couldn't complain. She admired the shape of his back, and the way the sun glowed off the sweat on his skin, which was starting to tan. It was a perfect back, she decided.

This was the first day that they both felt well enough to attempt such an aggressive hike.

Things were so different now.

"I'm so excited to see fall," Starla said. "I haven't seen a proper fall since I was really young."

When they reached the top, they found a rock to lean against. It was a breathtaking view.

That, and they were literally out of breath from such a brutal hike.

"Wow," Rayvin said, then collapsed onto the grass.

"See, I told you it was worth it to see," Starla said, satisfied. She snuggled in close to him.

"Testosterone makes me so sweaty," Rayvin complained. "Are you sure you don't mind it?"

"It makes you smell so manly," Starla declared. Starla leaned over him and kissed the twin crescents on his chest, the still-pink scars that reminded him where he'd been and who he was now. They were perfect, just like him.

"I like your scars," she said, then squeaked in surprise as Rayvin gently rolling her beneath him. He pressed his lips in a wandering line across her temple, where the crown had taken root.

"I like your scars too," he whispered. Then he kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drifted into the blissful sensation.

He began to kiss her collarbone, then stopped. Starla opened her eyes.

"Is this a scar?" Rayvin asked, and Starla looked down at the small, round splotch of pink on her collarbone, where her sports bra had slipped.

"It's— yeah it's a scar," she said hesitantly, watching his reaction.

"How did you get it?" he asked curiously. He seemed to notice her self-consciousness and gently maneuvered them to lie on their sides, face to face.

"I used to have a birthmark there," Starla said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I picked at it until it came off."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"That must've hurt."

"It did..." Starla said, not meeting his eye. "You know how sometimes I wear gloves?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's because I get this urge to pick at my skin, especially when I'm anxious. Sometimes to the point of bleeding. It's like... I can make my skin smooth and perfect if I keep picking at it. I can fix any imperfection. I've been doing it since I was like, 9 or 10. I've been able to stop, but never permanently. I know that look you're giving me— Ri-Yu thought it was weird too."

"Hey, I don't think it's weird," Rayvin said gently.

"No, it's definitely weird. I think there's something wrong with me," Starla said, shaking her head.

"You know what I think?" Rayvin said gently. "I think you endured a lot of scrutiny and pressure as a kid, and your mind found a way to express that anxiety through physical means."

"Hmm," Starla said, unconvinced.

"One of my sisters has something similar," Rayvin continued.

"What? Really?"

"Yeah. She would compulsively pluck out her own hair. She was really good at hiding it though. We didn't notice until we found a small bald spot on her head."

"Woah."

"Yeah. She was really, really ashamed about it. Wouldn't talk to us about it until we confronted her on it."

"Did... did the hair ever grow back?" Starla asked cautiously.

"Some of it."

"Oh. Did she stop pulling her hair?"

"No, not completely."

"Oh."

"But, she's gotten a lot better about it now that we understand it better and have been helping her. We realized a lot of was triggered by anxiety."

"Oh."

"Point is, our brains develop all sorts of ways to cope with how stressful and overwhelming the world is," Rayvin said. "And different people have different brains. There's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with you, and you don't have to carry this alone."

"That means a lot to me," Starla said in a small voice.

"Like I said, I like your scars," Rayvin said. He kissed the scar on Starla's collarbone, and she felt her eyes water. She felt light with relief.

"I like your scars too," Starla said again, and Rayvin smiled at her.

"And Starla... if you ever feel the urge to pick," Rayvin said, taking Starla's hands in his own, "You can always reach for me."

"Thank you, Rayvin," Starla smiled, and she felt his love in his unspoken promise to be around, always.

END.