And our scars remind us that the past is real.
~ Scars, Papa Roach
“This one,” she says before pressing her lips to his knuckles as she straddles him, skin to skin.
“I punched a kid in the mouth. He had braces.”
He takes his free hand, runs his index finger up and down the barely visible three inch scar on her right arm.
She follows his finger before looking back at him. “Knife fight.” She smiles, looking smug. “Well, half of one since I didn’t have a knife. Too bad for him.” He smiles, too, proud and not the least bit surprised.
She shifts forward, fingers the slightly raised skin around his neck, watches his Adam’s apple move as he speaks.
“Guy tried to strangle me in Fox River. Big motherfucker, too. Never did find out what that was all about.” She nods, understanding that dead men tell no tales.
He lowers his head, smiles again, leans in to run his tongue across her lower lip.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she says when he pulls back to look at her.
“Try me,” he replies, playing along.
“Well, this guy with this huge head…”
I’ve always liked this song and lately every time I hear it I think of Prison Break.