Jia Li had essentially convinced herself that her scar overpowered any aesthetic appeal that she may have had. For the last four years, she had worked hard to keep the marred flesh hidden while trying to learn how to make other parts of herself beautiful. She had practiced longer and harder at her dancing, training in various forms, knowing that she could at least move attractively and keeping her figure attractive in the process.
The dryad had also studied YouTube tutorials to try to make her face and hair more appealing, but those had been a lot more difficult for her than her dancing. Even though she could watch women make themselves beautiful, she didn’t have someone right there with her to help her correct whatever mistakes she made. Most fathers weren’t exactly skilled in such matters, and hers had been no exception.
Even though she’d always liked school, she had even worked harder at that. Jia Li had wanted to obtain more knowledge, to become more intelligent. Maybe if she had an appealing mind, it would help her scar to be overlooked.
Still, she’d kept that horrible blemish on her leg hidden from all eyes, convinced that if she didn’t, it would shatter whatever conceptions of beauty she tried so hard to build around herself. Yet, there was this man, someone who had treated her like a miserable peon from the time she had met him, and he was telling her that she was attractive. He told her that the scar didn’t make her ugly, and he’d even gone so far as to touch it. He didn’t shy away from it or run from her as if she was some horrible monster of Doctor Frankenstein’s creation.
It meant so much to her that she actually wanted to cry. Of course, his words wouldn’t stop her from hiding it. Jia Li didn’t really want the questions that would be associated with it. She didn’t want that horrible memory dredged up again and again until she’d have to distance herself from those emotions so much that she wouldn’t be able to feel anything. It was easier to forget about it if no one questioned her. However, the sight of it wasn’t something about which she would feel ashamed though it certainly wasn’t a matter of pride, either.
The dryad didn’t cry. She held back her tears, but a new sensation was already filling her at his touch. This time, it wasn’t as unwanted as it had been every other time preceding it. His hand was warm, and she could feel his skin flushing, becoming hotter at his caress. She didn’t really think about it before she’d leaned toward him, her lips finding his as her eyes closed.
If she’d ever deluded herself that she hated him, she could at least admit to herself now that she liked him. In all reality, she’d probably sort of liked him at least physically ever since he’d first stolen that kiss from her, but it hadn’t really been enough to counteract the anger that filled her whenever she had seen him because he always ended up insulting her in one way or another.
Now, though, she knew he really was a nice guy. Well, she’d sort of known that since he’d saved her, but this was the first time he was really showing her that he was good, that he could be nice when he could have just left her dorm without saying anything other than his guilty apology about what he’d done.
Her fingers tangled in his dark hair as his lips parted. Her tongue met his as it explored her mouth. Jia Li only hesitated for half a second when his hand slipped under the barrier of her panties. A soft murmur resonated in her throat, and her flesh pebbled at the touch. It was so different from her reaction the first time he’d touched her there, but these were completely different circumstances.
Even as he touched her, he used his other hand to pull him atop himself, and she didn’t fight it, didn’t want to fight it as her legs straddled his lap. Her lips kissed his hard, her tongue dancing with his with need. She pressed herself against his hand, thrilling at his touch. Her breathing increased, but this time it was with genuine desire and not with fear or with the exertion of fighting him.