Fresh from the shower and wrapped in clean sheets, Adriel was lying on his stomach, elbows propped up as he traced the collection of scars and scratches on Ein's torso.
"How did you get all these?" His fingers ran over slim cut marks near the abdomen.
Ein glanced at the scar Adriel stopped on. "Most are from earlier days. Fighting with knives. Always ended messy."
"And this one?" Adriel had found a large white line, almost hidden by muscle.
Ein hummed, glancing at the scar as if it was nothing but a dirt streak. "Bullet graze."
Adriel paused to imagine it, then moved on.
He stared at strange, round scars. At first Adriel thought they were vaccine scars, but there were too many. He was trying to figure out what those were, but Ein beat him to it.
"Cigarette burns."
Adriel frowned. "What? Why?"
"Older kids at the organization sometimes messed with the young ones."
