He can see that glance. He knows what Ivan is looking for and he sits up, straddling the priest's thighs to keep him down though he knows a simple struggle will free him. He's not worried about that. He has something to show him.
He pulls his shirts up and tugs his slacks down. Not a lot. Not at all. The layers of fabric are a shield of sorts. He moves it only enough to reveal the patch of skin where that scar is, still deep and nasty. Still vividly there even if most of his old human scars have faded.
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ninetydegrees
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He pulls his shirts up and tugs his slacks down. Not a lot. Not at all. The layers of fabric are a shield of sorts. He moves it only enough to reveal the patch of skin where that scar is, still deep and nasty. Still vividly there even if most of his old human scars have faded.