InsaneJournal

Scars
Who: Seamus and Dean
What: Scars and long-awaited awkwardness
Where: Seamus's flat
When: Monday 20th April, sort of late morning-ish
Rating: SFW for now

Uncharacteristically, Seamus had booked himself an entire day off. He always took Sundays off (though between Battlescars and the Local Business Bureau, his friends often told him it didn't count) but usually preferred to take the rest of his 'weekend' in dribs and drabs - and afternoon here, a morning there. Today, though, he had things to do. Not enough things that he hadn't slept in, mind, but things to do nonetheless. After waking late and enjoying a leisurely meal, he'd written up the journal entry he'd been milling over all the previous day. Even after several drafts, he wasn't sure about the wording, but it was the best he could do. Hopefully, it would have some results.

It was half an hour after that that he stepped out of the showed, dried his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist. He was half dressed, in boxers and jeans, when he paused and padded slowly over to the mirror that filled his open wardrobe door. He frowned as he looked at his reflection. Even with his skin still slightly pink from the shower, the red lines that wrapped his hip and one side of his stomach were obvious and ugly. He unbuttoned his jeans and nudged them down his thigh, pushing his boxers with them on his damaged side.

Having rarely talked about his scar, Seamus had never found a way to explain it to anyone who hadn't seen it for themselves. It resembled, sort of, the lines of a fisherman's net, as if some trawler had tried to catch him and the rope had burned forever into his skin. The paler he got in the cool of his room, the more obvious it became, and Seamus's expression was ugly as he turned and craned his neck to see the way it continued across his lower back and buttock. He was so absorbed in the contemplation that he didn't even hear the crack of Dean's apparition.