thatonebrunettewithnoregrets:

Scarlett watched Sam trace one of her permanent scars. It was a double-edged sword, the scar she was tracing. It wasn’t one she created herself, but it was still one that her mother had made. The brunette carefully grabbed the other woman’s hand to stop her from continuing to touch the faded mark that tainted her frail skin. “Sorry… It’s just… Out of all the scars on my body to trace, that’s the one you had to choose,” she teased slightly, trying to keep things uplifting. If Sam asked about the mark, the young woman would tell her the story behind it. She wasn’t ashamed of her whole past – just the murderous part. And even that she wasn’t ashamed of… She just didn’t want to go to prison if she confessed to the wrong person. “Wasn’t exactly the high point of my life,” she spoke in a light tone with a small smile.

“Are you sure? Samantha was still scared that she had touched it and it was wrong. It used to happen, but a long story. “Because I know how it feels- to get beat.” She said softly, almost a small whimper escaped her lips. She didn’t want Scarlett to feel bad or have pity for Sam. Right now it wasn’t about her. Gently she took her hand away after she touched it. “M-May I ask what happened? If not, that’s fine.” Of course she felt bad for the other in front of her but she didn’t want to seem like a big imposition over the large gash looking scar. Samantha stayed quiet for a moment, gazing at her fingers in her lap. Tears formed in the damaged girl’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Scar.” Did she deserve this? Either of them? No, no fucking way. Was there much to do about it now? Not really. It made them stronger.