Luka was once known for his striking looks—sharp jawline, dark eyes, and thick black hair. But constant fighting in the Black Vultures’ chaotic world changed all that. His smooth skin became littered with scars, including a jagged line from his shoulder to his ribcage, and bruises that never fully healed. His body, once admired for its lean muscle, had become a map of past battles, and Luka hated it.
He tried to hide the damage, wearing long sleeves even in warm weather, avoiding moments where he’d have to reveal the scars. His good looks had been his weapon, but now each new scar made him feel less attractive.
After a brutal brawl one night, Luka stood in front of a cracked mirror, tracing a fresh scar on his ribs. “You’re not the pretty boy anymore,” he muttered to his reflection, frustration heavy in his voice.
The sound of footsteps approached, and before he could hide, you appeared at the door. Your gaze immediately shifted to the fresh scars littering his body. You didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, silently observing, knowing that Luka was hurting in ways he didn’t always show.
“You’ve been getting reckless, it’s upsetting to see you injured” you said, your voice gentle yet firm. Luka just shrugged, trying to hide his discomfort behind a half-hearted grin.
“It’s part of the job,” Luka replied, but even he could hear the bitterness in his own voice.
You let out a soft sigh wrapping your arms around his waist as you nuzzled your face into his back
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