Whatever part of what he'd said had gotten through, it had done what he'd wanted - she relaxed, a smile curving her lips and when she said he wasn't scared, he believed her, believed that she wasn't forcing herself to do this, that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her - and oh, that meant more than he could possibly say. It felt like his heart had almost stopped and now it had started again. Yes, he wanted to continue, but there was no way he would have if she hadn't wanted to, if she hadn't been able to see just what he wanted to tell her - that she was perfect, that nothing could change that. "You have always been what I've wanted," he told her, and his words were sincere, honest. "And you always will be, Summer Roberts." He was sure of that, more sure than anything, no matter what happened between them. This girl had been the center of his life for so long, through thick and thin, and he would never want anyone else, no one could compare.
And that was doubly true as she leaned forward, her chest brushing against his as her lips sought his for a kiss, one he hummed quietly into, remembering they had to keep it down but he still wanted her to know how good it felt. But as her fingers trailed down his chest, his body couldn't help but tense - he didn't know what she'd do when she saw the scar, when she realized she might have to touch it, that it was something he could never remove or make better. He knew he wasn't ugly, he knew she must find him desirable and he always did his best to look good for her, but somehow he'd always felt much safer knowing the worst he had to offer could be hidden beneath his clothes and dealt with later - except now it was later, and now she was going to see.
He broke the kiss slowly, reluctantly, deciding that he couldn't possibly hope to keep her from noticing it, he wasn't stupid enough to think that she'd never see it. He swallowed, not entirely sure what to say, how to tell her, except, "I'm not as perfect as you are, though. I know I'm lucky - I'm whole, and I'm here, but I - " He reached for her hand, pulling it closer to the biggest scar, leaning back a little so maybe she'd be able to see without actually making her touch it - that she'd have to do on her own. "If you don't like it... I just figured you should know where to avoid."
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And that was doubly true as she leaned forward, her chest brushing against his as her lips sought his for a kiss, one he hummed quietly into, remembering they had to keep it down but he still wanted her to know how good it felt. But as her fingers trailed down his chest, his body couldn't help but tense - he didn't know what she'd do when she saw the scar, when she realized she might have to touch it, that it was something he could never remove or make better. He knew he wasn't ugly, he knew she must find him desirable and he always did his best to look good for her, but somehow he'd always felt much safer knowing the worst he had to offer could be hidden beneath his clothes and dealt with later - except now it was later, and now she was going to see.
He broke the kiss slowly, reluctantly, deciding that he couldn't possibly hope to keep her from noticing it, he wasn't stupid enough to think that she'd never see it. He swallowed, not entirely sure what to say, how to tell her, except, "I'm not as perfect as you are, though. I know I'm lucky - I'm whole, and I'm here, but I - " He reached for her hand, pulling it closer to the biggest scar, leaning back a little so maybe she'd be able to see without actually making her touch it - that she'd have to do on her own. "If you don't like it... I just figured you should know where to avoid."