He pressed in closer as she drew him in, his arms tightening around her. The scar on her back was of little consequence in his mind--ugly, perhaps, but proof that she was a survivor, that the world had given her a deadly sort of challenge and that she had overcome it and thrived despite it. He stroked his fingers along it, from shoulder to hip, then back up from the small of her back to the base of her skull. His touch was slow, soft, loving. He cherished her, scars and all. In that moment he felt fairly optimistic, and her words pulled out another smile. He stole a little kiss from her lips, his tone warm and teasing. "Is it possible you want to do something else entirely, just now?"