Prompt: Dedra has at least one scar from the kinderblock, Enforcement or both. Syril notices, possibly in bed, and is curious. Dedra still dislikes vulnerability but tells him at least something about how she got her scar(s).
For @fajrbismuth — hope you like!
“What is this?" Syril asked softly, his voice muffled by the fabric of her pajamas. He’d buried his face between her shoulder blades, and his hand was tucked beneath her shirt. He’d found the irregular ridge of skin just above her navel, and he traced it curiously.
“Just a scar.” Her tone was meant to deter further questions.
“I didn’t know you had it,” he continued, unfazed.
Well, of course he didn’t know. They’d never been…intimate except in the dark, she didn’t change clothes in front of him, and she rarely tolerated the sort of groping he was engaged in now. Thinning her lips, she reached up to peel his hand away.
Syril didn't resist. He just sighed and turned onto his back, where he somehow managed to breathe petulantly.
Dedra stood up and marched to the ‘fresher, intending to take her sedatives and vitamins from the cabinet. That accomplished, she pulled up her top to inspect the scar.
It was ugly, there was no denying that. With bacta, perhaps it wouldn’t have healed so poorly. But Kinderblock 18B hadn't seen the need to issue bacta for cosmetic complaints. You’re destined for the infantry or the factory, the medic had shrugged. Why waste the creds?
Syril was suddenly in the doorway, scrubbing a hand over his sleepy face. “You okay?”
Dedra glowered and quickly let her shirt fall. “You don’t let up, do you?” She growled.
“Not when it comes to you,” he agreed. His milky blue eyes searched her face. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t intentional.”
An unfamiliar feeling squeezed Dedra’s chest. “I’ll tell you, if you want.”
Syril didn't ask what; he simply nodded and waited for her to speak.
“When I was eleven, I informed a teacher that my dormmate had stolen a datapad from the supply closet. The girl’s friends cornered me and slashed my abdomen with a scrap of metal.”
Syril paled. “I’m sorry that happened. It sounds like you were doing what was right.”
She nodded slightly. She didn’t like the way her heart felt, sore and straining behind her ribs.
“Dedra, I think I would’ve liked you if we’d met as kids.”
She turned around to look at him directly, appreciating the change of topic. “What was little Syril like?”
“Fastidious,” Syril said immediately. “Imaginative.”
Those were interesting adjectives, but as Dedra inspected his face, she decided they still fit. “I think I would’ve found you tiresome.”
“What about now?” He risked a smile.
Dedra took in his rumpled curls and tidy pajama set, and she found that her venom had run out. “No,” she breathed, closing the distance and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Not now.”
jacobvanloon
dailybridgerton
turnnoffyourmind
