As he ran his fingers over her scar, she simply sighed. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and tightened her arm around his middle. He may not mind the scar. Heck, even she used to not mind the scar. But for some reason, it was starting to bother her. Maybe because she feared what he felt of it, it marked her skin, it took away that element of beauty. Or so she thought. She was trying to push the though away when he spoke. She opened her eyes, leaning back and looking up to him with a tilted head. She returned his soft kiss, smiling into it. “I mean, I’m sure there’s a lot of things that I want to do.” She laughed quietly, leaning her head back down on his arm. “What are you thinking?” She didn’t want to leave yet, she didn’t want to be out on the road. Not yet.