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Sera shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around him without hesitation, holding him close as he buried his face in her shoulder. Her heart squeezed at the fragile way he clung to her—quiet, hurting, but here. Still here. “I’ve got you,” she whispered, resting her head gently atop his. “You don’t have to say anything else. Just breathe.” Her fingers traced soft, comforting circles on his back as she held him, her ice cream forgotten beside her. In that moment, none of the noise or stares or pain mattered. All that existed was him—tucked into her side, raw and real—and her love, wrapping around him like armor.
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Finn started crying silently.
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Sera felt the tremble in his body before she heard the soft, stifled sounds of his tears. Her arms tightened instinctively around him, protective and gentle all at once. She didn’t shush him. Didn’t try to stop the tears or fill the silence with words. She just held him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other still tracing slow circles on his back. “It’s okay,” she whispered into his hair. “You can cry. I’ve got you.” Her own throat tightened, but she didn’t let it show. This wasn’t about her—it was about him finally letting go, even if only for a moment. About being safe enough with her to fall apart.
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Finn cried into her shoulder, clinging onto her. He hated when people stared... it was just a reminder that he was ugly and scarred.
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(Just plotting for the future, but what if they have a child that is able to fully heal Finn's face? Since they'll have a mix of both parents' powers)
Sera held him tighter as his silent sobs deepened, her hand gently threading through his hair. She could feel how tightly he clung to her—like he was scared she might vanish, like he didn’t believe he was worth holding onto. Her heart cracked at the weight of it all. “I know they stared,” she whispered, voice soft and fierce. “I saw it too. And I hated it.” She pulled back just enough to cup his face in both hands, coaxing him to look at her, even if just for a second. Her thumbs brushed gently over his cheeks, wiping away the tears. “But they don’t see what I see. They don’t know your heart, your strength. They don’t know how kind you are… how brave.” Her eyes burned, but she blinked the tears back. She had to be strong for him right now. “You’re not ugly, Finn,” she said firmly, her voice low but unwavering. “You’re scarred, yeah—but that doesn’t make you any less beautiful to me. You’ve been through hell and you’re still here. That’s not something to hide. That’s something to be proud of.” She leaned in, kissing the space just beside his eye, right where one of the scars trailed. “You’re mine. Every part of you. And I will never stop loving you—scars, silence, tears, and all.”
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Eventually, Finn managed to calm down, breathing deeply to calm himself. "I love you..."
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Sera’s arms remained gently wrapped around him, even as his breathing began to slow. She could feel the way his chest rose and fell with each deep inhale, how he tried to steady himself. The quiet words he spoke—I love you…—landed like a warm breeze against her chest, soft and real. She smiled, pressing her forehead to his, her voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” She kept holding him like that—forehead to forehead, her hands gently framing his face, grounding him. Letting him feel it: the safety, the love, the truth in her touch.
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Finn kept his face buried in her shoulder. He wanted to believe her, but he just couldn't. He was ugly. (Sry meant to put this in the last one, yeah, I think that's a great idea!)
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Sera felt the tension still clinging to him, even as his breathing calmed. He stayed tucked into her shoulder, quiet, heavy with doubt. She could feel it—that weight. That ache that told her he was trying to believe her… but couldn’t. Her arms stayed around him, protective and sure. “I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered gently, resting her chin against the side of his head. “That you’re ugly. That I’m just saying these things to make you feel better.” She paused, letting the silence breathe for a moment. “But I’m not,” she said firmly, quietly fierce. “I wish I could make you see what I see when I look at you. I wish I could hold up a mirror and show you the way your eyes soften when you’re safe, or the way your smile makes me feel like I’m standing in the sun.” Her hand found his, fingers slipping between his tightly clenched ones. “I don’t love you despite your scars, Finn. I love you. All of you. Your hurt, your healing, your humor, your hands, your heart.” She held him closer, her words a quiet vow against his skin. “You don’t have to believe me yet. I’ll believe enough for the both of us—until one day, maybe, you can start to see it too.”
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Finn hesitated but nodded. He loved her, and her words meant so much, but Finn still couldn't believe her. Without saying a word, he took her hand, holding it tight and standing up. Slowly, Finn lowered his hood. This street was quiet enough, so there wouldn't be any stares. The two of them walked back home, hand in hand.
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