Red Horizon (The Martian Fanfiction)

Chapter 19

Mark's fingers moved lazily over Olivia's bare back, tracing delicate, almost absent-minded patterns on her skin as their breathing began to steady. The warmth of their bodies still pressed together, tangled in each other's limbs, created a cocoon of intimacy. Olivia nestled against Mark's chest, her head resting over the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart. The afterglow of their lovemaking hung in the air, wrapping them in a profound sense of peace and contentment. For the first time in what felt like forever, the harsh, unrelenting reality of their survival on Mars seemed far away.

Mark's hand slid up into her hair, his fingers tangling gently in the damp strands before gliding down along her side, stroking her with a kind of reverence. Each touch was slow and deliberate, soothing, as though he couldn't quite believe she was there with him. Olivia felt utterly weightless, her body warm and relaxed, almost boneless with the satisfaction that still coursed through her veins. There was something perfect in that moment—something sacred—despite everything they had been through.

But then, as Mark's fingers continued their lazy exploration, they stilled when they reached the uneven ridges along her abdomen. His touch grew softer, more tentative, as he traced the faint scars with careful curiosity. He tensed slightly, his brow furrowing in thought as his fingers skimmed the surface of the raised skin, feeling the jagged remnants of old wounds.

"Olivia?" Mark's voice broke the silence, a quiet murmur that held both concern and curiosity. He shifted slightly, tilting his head to catch her gaze, his eyes filled with an unspoken question. His fingers lingered on the scars, as if trying to understand their story without asking.

Olivia's body stiffened for a moment, her heart skipping a beat as his fingers brushed the reminders of a past she had learned to live with. She had never spoken much about it—never needed to. But now, with Mark's hand resting so gently on the evidence of her trauma, she knew there was no avoiding the conversation.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Olivia shifted in his arms, propping herself up on her elbow so she could meet his eyes more directly. She saw the concern in his gaze, the tenderness, and something inside her softened.

"IED," she said softly, her voice low but steady, the words coming easier than she expected. "I was too close when it went off. Shrapnel tore through my abdomen... and by the time they got me medevac'd out of there..." She paused, swallowing against the memories that flashed unbidden in her mind. "The damage was done."

Mark's expression softened immediately, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity as the weight of her words sank in. His brows furrowed, a mix of empathy and shock crossing his face. "God... Olivia, I didn't know..." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Olivia gave him a small, reassuring smile, though the gravity of what she had just shared still lingered between them. There was a quiet strength in her posture, a resignation that spoke of years spent coming to terms with the pain she had carried. "It was a long time ago," she said softly, her eyes distant as if she were looking back through the years. "I've had a lot of time to come to terms with it."

Mark's hand, which had been resting lightly on her stomach, moved slowly, his fingers brushing over the faint scars that marred her skin. The gesture was tender, filled with a reverence that made Olivia's breath catch. He wasn't just touching the scars; he was acknowledging the pain and the strength it took to bear them. "But... it must have been rough. I mean..." His voice trailed off, the words feeling too inadequate for the weight of the truth she had shared.

Olivia nodded, her smile fading as a shadow passed over her face. Memories she rarely allowed to surface now crept back in, painting her features with a mix of sorrow and resilience. "It was," she admitted, her voice steady but heavy with the echo of past trauma. "It was bad."