[Remus shivers lightly at the way she's touching his scars; he can't help but think of what she wrote in the book, not so long ago, about wanting to see where those scars lead. It might not have been her own words, but the connecting is inescapable now.
Does he want to tell her? The reason for them doesn't much matter, now; it's a non-issue. But he's still hesitant, because of the stigma attached.]
M-maybe. Someday.
[It's as concrete an answer as he can give right now. Especially with her lips brushing his marred skin in a way he never imagined anyone would touch it. He was already beginning to stir in his breeches, and now even more so. His shirt divested, his fingers finish unlacing her and tug open the strings of her corset, only a little clumsy now that the hardest bit is over. He does his best to resist the urge to hide his skin, the way the lines criss-cross his torso, a mixture of newer pink lines and faded white ones. Remus leans back in and his mouth leans lower, kissing just above the hem of her shirt where it rests over top her breasts.]
no subject
Does he want to tell her? The reason for them doesn't much matter, now; it's a non-issue. But he's still hesitant, because of the stigma attached.]
M-maybe. Someday.
[It's as concrete an answer as he can give right now. Especially with her lips brushing his marred skin in a way he never imagined anyone would touch it. He was already beginning to stir in his breeches, and now even more so. His shirt divested, his fingers finish unlacing her and tug open the strings of her corset, only a little clumsy now that the hardest bit is over. He does his best to resist the urge to hide his skin, the way the lines criss-cross his torso, a mixture of newer pink lines and faded white ones. Remus leans back in and his mouth leans lower, kissing just above the hem of her shirt where it rests over top her breasts.]