Written for Korrasami Month 2019 day 11: scars.

Word count: 605

Warm lips pressed against the raised mark on Korra's bicep, making her skin erupt in goosebumps. She made eye contact with Asami, her heart fluttering at the way her girlfriend's eyes sparkled and her skin brushed against her skin as she hovered over her.

"You have so many scars," Asami noted, finger still trailing over the mark.

From anyone else, Korra would have thought it an insult, but Asami said it as if the scars were symbols to be worn with pride. Korra's stomach tightened.

"That's from when I learned I was an earthbender," she said softly, clearing her throat when her voice cracked. "I got angry at some boy who said he was a better waterbender than me. The next thing I knew, some rocks erupted from beneath the ice. I was so startled that one of them flew towards me instead of him and got me in the arm."

"Sounds like something you would do," Asami said with a smirk before pressing another kiss to the scar.

The scar that sat above Korra's collarbone was the next target. Shivers traveled down Korra's spine when Asami kissed it, her breath ghosting over the skin before she pulled away to look down at Korra, her hands boxing her in as she braced herself.

"Where did this one come from?" she asked, leaning on one elbow to free her other hand to trail over the skin and make Korra shiver a second time.

"Another stupid boy said he could beat me at waterbending," she recounted. "He wanted to say he'd won against the Avatar. I beat him in the end, but he got angry and hit me with some ice when I wasn't paying attention. The White Lotus got stricter about who I could play with after that."

The White Lotus members in charge of her training had been more furious about the incident than her own parents had been. The boy involved had faced harsh backlash for endangering the Avatar, and all of the children had distanced themselves from her after that. In the end, the orders of the White Lotus had probably made little difference.

Asami didn't ask for more details as she lowered herself for another kiss.

Korra expected the kisses to stop once Asami ran out of scars that had come before they'd met, but they didn't. She kept pressing kisses to scars that she knew the story of, sharing with Korra—often in whispers—how it had felt to see her hurt.

It softened Korra more than the previous kisses. She pulled Asami close each time, thankful that the scars were merely scars and not fresh wounds any longer.

Soon, Asami ran out of scars whose stories she knew too, but that still didn't stop her. Each time Korra got a new injury, Asami pressed her lips to the wound before a scar had even formed. Korra swore that fewer of her injuries turned to scars after that. Maybe it was only her imagination, but she held onto the illusion nonetheless.

Korra never considered making it reciprocal. Far fewer scars were scattered across Asami's skin, and she didn't acquire new injuries at the same rate as Korra either.

When she came home one day with a bad burn on her hand, though, Korra couldn't resist gently pressing her lips to the damaged skin.

A soft gasp escaped Asami's lips, and Korra smirked as she pulled away.

"What happened?" she asked, echoing a question Asami had taken to asking her with each new injury.

She kept the injured hand cradled in both of her own as Asami returned the smile and recounted the story.