Dwana Frazeer: Scars Cannot Hold Beauty at Bay

"No gloves tonight?" Rabin Lavender asked her, as she shuffled into the room quietly. His lavender eyes were glowing, beaming with utter delight as he beheld her simple green dress. She looked very nice in it, and he was glad to see that she had finally become comfortable enough to try on the dress that had been his homecoming gift for her, among many more things. 

Shards of glass saturated her hair. The mission had been a bad one. Her scars were deep, her cuts fierce. 

She slowly stroked her left hand with her right, shaking slightly, looking unsure if she wanted to take off the other one. 

"I... I just wanted to see if I could go...without hurting anyone..." she mumbled.

Rabin shook his head. "Realize this... your stress, your anxiety, if you give into them, you will..."

"Then what should I do?" she breathed, staring nervously at the dinner table he had provided for them both. And he smiled.

"You should shut up and enjoy yourself for a change." 

Change is good. Sometimes, it is very good.