You Are On My Mind

Stars Around My Scars

"We'd like a room please." Danny clung to Linda as if someone would snatch her away. They had shared two more tantalizing dances, each one equally arousing. Linda was still apprehensive about showing Danny her scars, as he hadn't seen them since he helped change the bandages some months ago. Things had been prickly between the two of them, which was why Danny had practically jumped on the opportunity to get Linda into a new environment that didn't involve mundane domestic work.
"No bags?" The hotel clerk raised a questioning eyebrow.
"We'd just like a room." He repeated, hoping this lapse of closeness didn't dampen Linda's arousal. She had huskily told him she needed him to erase the memories; he just hoped her insecurities wouldn't creep back up again.
"I really think-"
"Do you want our money or not? We just want a damn room!" Linda uncharacteristically growled  at the desk clerk. "Are you gonna give us a key or not?"
"Okay, sure. One second." She apprehensively turned around and slowly handed Danny the key. He steered them to the elevator, and pushed the button for the third floor.
Linda chewed her lip, her confidence suddenly slipping into a headache. She gasped audibly as Danny's hand made contact with her ass. He groped it, and whacked it again before the elevator dinged, alerting them of their arrival.
Upon entering the room, Linda felt all her confidence leave and fly out the window. She started to get a headache and a stomachache. She swallowed and stood at the window, her back to Danny. Quietly she told him, "I, uh, I don't think I want to do this."
"Why not?"
She closed her eyes. "I just.... I don't feel comfortable doing this. I want you so badly. So much it hurts. But I can't- I can't get passed all the what if's."
Danny walked up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. He saw their reflection in the window glass, and that she had started crying. "You, Linda Rose O'Shea Reagan, are the most beautiful person I've known." He kissed her cheek, then nuzzled her ear. "Your beauty goes further than skin deep. Your beautiful on the inside. Did I ever tell you that what attracted me most to you was your kindness?"
Linda sniffled and shook her head.
"Don't get me wrong, you were- and still are- hot. But it was the fact that you were kind to everyone- mostly. You're so hot." He kissed her neck, then trailed kisses to her dress strap. Slowly he pushed it down, and when she didn't protest, he repeated the motions on the other side. Tentatively, he pulled down the side zipper, hoping Linda would go along with it.
But she didn't; Linda wrenched herself from his grasp, "I'm sorry." She sat on the bed, feeling utterly defeated.
"Why, Linda? Why is it different for me to see your scars from you seeing mine?" He turned around, frustrated.
"Because! Because Over half your scars are reminders that you almost died!"
"Wouldn't that memory make you shy away though?"
"No," her voice was tight.
"Why not?"
"Because they make me want to do everything for you. You've been on death's doorstep more times than either of us want to admit. And thinking about that makes me do everything in my power to make sure you know that I love you."
Quietly, Danny asked, "don't you think I feel the same way about your scars?" He watched her eyes drift up to him. "Linda," he took her hands and stood her on her feet. "I'm going to love you no matter what scars you have. Whether they be physical or emotional. Every inch of you is beautiful." He gradually pushed her dress off her arms, frowning when she caught it from falling.
Linda closed her eyes as Danny's hands went to her arms. She willed herself not to back away as he carefully pulled her arms away from her body. Her silver dress puddled at her feet. She was confused when Danny got to his knees and turned her so that her right side was facing him. She dug her nails into her palms, mentally screaming to let him see the scar.
"This scar," the detective put his hand on her small raised scar. "This scar doesn't tell me how ugly it is, or rather isn't. It tells me that you're a survivor, a warrior, a badass. A fighter. I know it's looking grim, and I know I haven't been the best husband, but... you'll get better. You, my dear, are a freakin' warrior."
Linda gasped softly when she felt his lips make contact with the wound. She let him turn her again, and he put his hand on the wound on her back.
"I told you that the bullet hole on your side makes you a warrior. But it's actually this one." Danny lightly tapped the indentation, "this one makes you a f***ing warrior, because it's still in you. Of all the bullet wounds I have, not one is still in me. Which makes you stronger than me in this way. Unless the bullet migrated to your spine, you're forever going to have it. And when I look at you, I'm gonna say, 'she's a warrior. A beautiful, compassionate fighter'." He kissed that scar as well, then stood and turned her around to face him. "And whenever you think that you're not beautiful or worthy, or you think that you're a pathetic loser, come to me. I will tell you how wrong you are, and, if you're up to it, I will be more than willing to show you."
Linda let a sob escape her mouth, pulling Danny towards her. She clung to him as she barely managed to say, "I love you. I love you so much."
"I love you more." He kisses her cheek, hoping his speech helped.
"I love you most." Linda didn't know how long she embraced her husband when she pulled back. "I could use a little visual reassurance that I'm all those things you said."
Danny smiled, kissing her forehead. "Happy to oblige."