Behind the Words
There’s a scar on his back she doesn’t remember.
He’s sprawled face-down beneath her, comfortably trapped between her and her bed, the gorgeous expanse of his shoulders hot under her fingertips. The first yearnings have been well-sated, and now she’s taking her time to explore him properly, reading the two years she missed in his skin and muscles.
For someone with a recent near-death experience, Kaidan is in excellent health. Looking at his neck, his shoulders and running her hand through his hair, scraping the scalp at the back of his head, it takes knowing what to look for to see the signs of injuries that have been well cared for.
So the scar on his back, left of the spine, below his heart but still far, far too close, is an anomaly, an irregularity that shouldn’t exist. Shepard knows a knife wound when she sees one. It’s neat and well-healed, but not neat enough. Patched up, but not cared for. Any half-competent physician could do a better skin restoration job. So why hasn’t one, she wonders? Kaidan’s streak of vanity gives way to his chosen life when they collide, but he treats his body like all his equipment, keeping it in top shape through meticulous maintenance. He wouldn’t have left a wound like this to chance.
And yet, there it is.