Imperfections

Each time they make love, Lorelai ends up choosing a different part of Luke's body as her favorite. Often his bottom lip, sometimes his long eyelashes, his fingertips, his jawline. She spends time exploring with her eyes and fingers and sometimes her mouth; often telling him why she had chosen whatever part of him she's chosen to give special attention to.

Tonight, it's the scar on his right shoulder. It's something that she hadn't noticed early on, but discovered in time; lighter in color and seemingly thinner and softer than the rest of his skin.

As they lie together, her right leg thrown haphazardly over his middle, listening to their breathing even out after their round of lovemaking, her head is propped up on her pillow next to his, her finger lightly tracing his scar, back and forth and back again. She soon hears his breathing deepen as he is drifting off to sleep.

She likes to watch the little wrinkles that form as she lightly pushes on the flesh around the little imperfection in his skin. And occasionally, she bends her head to press her lips to it and hears him sigh in his sleep.

Her fascination with this part of him stems partly from the fact that it's located in a place on his body where only the two of them see it. It's private and intimate, and she knows that it's there and how it got there.

She thinks about his story then of the traumatic and painful even that caused this scar many years ago; a story he had shared with her along with the fact that he hadn't shared it with anyone else before. This scar is a sign of strength, she thinks. He made it through something tough and came out the other side as good as new, with only this little imperfection in his skin to show for it; a little token to remember it by.

Her thoughts turn to their relationship, and she remembers the time last winter when they were broken. Her heart had ached so badly she could hardly bear it at the time, and though she doesn't like to think of it, she has come to appreciate it, this scar in their relationship; a remembrance of things past, of things they made it through and came out on the other side of stronger and with an even deeper realized love for each other than ever before.

She kisses his shoulder one last time before settling herself against him for sleep, her last thoughts as she drift off linger on how grateful she is for scars, whether physical or only just in her memory. Because without them, we may never be reminded of how thankful we are that things turned out the way they have.