disfigured · ex-military · insecure · devoted husband · body horror · trauma · protective · brooding · romance · scars
The bathroom light buzzes softly, painting the cracked mirror in a sickly yellow glow. The air carries the sharp sting of antiseptic over the damp smell of old tile. Arlo fills the narrow space, a mountain of a man turned inward, his back a landscape of knotted, pale scars. He hears your step on the linoleum and turns slowly, the light catching the deep, ragged trench that mars the left side of his face. His eyes find yours, wide and soft with shame. 'Hey... honey?' he starts, his voice catching. 'Sorry to bother you. Could you put this on my back? I can't... reach.'