Sayuri had let all her guards down at last. No matter how much she used to fear that happening, she had finally done so even though she was terrified that he would leave seconds after he saw what she had kept hiding from him since so long. 

She had allowed him to peel off each layer of clothing as she did the same to him, though she was dreading that once he saw what lay at the bottom, he might not feel the same for her afterwards.

She kept it all hidden from view at normal times but it would be so clear in front of him if she let him continue to undress her. And even though she knew it, she still didn't do anything to stop him.

Even though the dread was gnawing at her heart, she let his hands deftly untie the knots on her blouse as her own fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

The silvery gleam illuminated the constellation of scars on her back, starting from her neck that went all the way down as if she had been struck by thousands of whips. Or rather slashed through with thousands of sword blows.

The scars were etched deep into her seemingly delicate skin, and it was quite obvious that all those wounds had healed on their own. Without any medical assistance. And probably that was why they were so deep and so alarming.

Richard's finger tentatively traced the patchwork of scars on her skin, blue eyes welling up in sorrow. Sayuri's eyes were no different from his either. Each time his finger traced a scar, a trail of fire seemed to blaze down after the touch. And she couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind though she was too scared to ask.

She was scared that he would leave her now that he had seen the ugly side of her, the side that she hid from the rest of the world but had lain bare to him only.

A tear rolled down her cheek and she immediately shut her eyelids hoping he hadn't noticed that. But it looked as if he had done so for soon enough, he had gently turned her to face him.

There were scars starting from her collarbone as well, creeping down to her waist akin to ivy vines, deepening near the ribs as if those parts of her skin had been slashed much more often and rather mercilessly.

She had squeezed her eyes shut, not having the courage to look at him again, though tears streaked down her face once again.

"Sayuri... Look at me, please," he spoke in a gentle voice, coaxing her to stop being afraid.

However, she did not look at him, body shivering slightly from the sobs she was trying to suppress. She seemed so frail, so vulnerable that it cut him to the core. All he wanted to do at that moment was to be able to console her and take all her pain away.

"Sayuri," he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, engulfing her shivering body in his warmth, "please."

"You must hate me," her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, shaking from sadness, "and I don't blame you if you do. I... I had told you that... That I don't deserve you."

"Hey," his eyes widened in alarm at her words, "how can you ever say that? I can't even think of hating you."

"But... But... Don't you see? I'm... I'm... I'm just not who you thought you fell in love with. I'm lacking in so many aspects that I can't dare to even think of telling you about it."

A painful expression spread on his face at hearing those words, as if it had hurt him to find out that she thought that he would leave her because of her past. "You are exactly who I thought I fell in love with."

"No, no... You fell in love with the ghost of me, Richard, you love the person I used to be before my life crumbled. But the truth is that I'm no longer that woman, I just fake being her in other's presence. You fell in love with the strong, beautiful side of me. Not this... Not this ugly and battered up me. You... You deserve someone whole. Someone who is not..."

Sorrow spread on his features to see her like that, "but Sayuri, I love all sides of you. Each and every part of you be it your eyes or your smile. Your kisses as well as your scars."

Her grey irises flashed in despair, "not the scars, they're ugly."

"You never thought of my scars as ugly, you always admired them. Then why do you think I wouldn't do so with you?" He was referring to the deep v shaped slashes on his chest which went up to his shoulders. The slashes reminded her of the Nightwing symbol on his armor, the only difference was that it seemed as if that symbol was engraved permanently on to his skin.

"But that's... That's different. It's not... It's not so horrible as all of mine are. It's like your Nightwing symbol, I'm used to seeing that now, aren't I? But... But... My scars are nothing like that. They are terrifying... Disgusting... Repulsing..."

He held her tightly, placing soft kisses on each and every scar he could see, lingering at the one near her collarbone until she gave in to him, surrendering and opening her eyes to look at him at last.

"Not to me, Sayuri. To me, all your scars are beautiful."

Her hands cupped his face as she reached down and rested her forehead against his, tears rolling down from her eyes, falling on his face and sliding down his cheek, "Richard... These are anything but beautiful."

"My lovely warrior, these scars are a reminder of how strong you have been and how you faced all your battles head on. These scars are beautiful because they are a proof that you survived. Don't look at them in shame, instead try to look at them as signs of courage."

His voice was soft and adoring, as if he was proud of her, not ashamed like she had feared he would be. She had expected him to be disgusted at seeing her as such but the love in his heart had only blossomed more for her.

"If only you could see yourself with my eyes, you would realize how dear you are to me," he kissed away her tears, running his hands in her hair soothingly, "you are beautiful, Sayuri, and I love you from the depths of my heart."

She collapsed on top of him, body heaving from the sobs that she had stopped suppressing inside her at last. He gently turned so that she was back on the bed, though his arms were still wrapped around her.

He reached out to kiss her once again, in as sweetest and softest way he possibly could. Then lifting up a little, he dragged the duvet on top of them, wrapping her up securely right next to him.

"You're so damn good to me that sometimes I fear it is just a dream. Sometimes I get scared that I'll wake up and you'll no longer be with me," her voice was hushed as if even saying it out loud terrified her, "I fear that the dream would end and you'll be gone forever."

"This isn't a dream," he replied, "this is the most real moment of your life. Think of all the bad moments as mere nightmares. You have woken up at last and all those nightmares are gone. Nothing else is real except you and I. And you have my word, Sayuri, I will never ever leave you."

***