Aria.
The door opened and this time I barely had the time to register the shift in the air when Kai stepped back into the room. A towel hung low on his waist, and another one slung across the side of his chest covering it up a bit.
But I did not miss the broad shoulders and sculpted chest that tapered down into a lean, powerful waist. Every muscle and biceps was defined, trained into perfection.
But his skin was imperfect.
Scars.
I had seen a few of them before but mostly the one in his back. They weren’t just one, they were multiple of them. A cruel map of violence, slashed, punctured and jagged tears. Pain lived there. The kind that no cocky smirk could hide.
And for a second, I forgot how to blink and I tried to memorize each of them, aching to know the reason behind each one.
