Page 54 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

My sobs gradually subside into quieter hiccups. The storm passes, leaving me hollow but somehow lighter. That's the strange paradox of these crying spurts. They exhaust and renew all at once.

I unfold myself from the tub, my joints popping. Then I glance at the aftermath in the mirror. I have puffy eyes, blotchy cheeks, and a nose that would make Rudolph jealous.

Perfect. Nothing says 'stable adult ready for intellectual discussion' more than this.

My quantum consciousness book sits on the bathroom counter, so I grab it and flip to my bookmark to read a few more pages. I'm in an especially dense part, but I've actually made decent progress: four more chapters. Almost halfway through within seven days, which for me, is a reading marathon.

Sean's probably finished his entire book. Then he probably snuck two more from my shelves. I've noticed his eyes lingering on my collection like he's trying to seduce each one.

I check the time on my phone. Forty-five minutes until our planned discussion. I need to pull myself together.

I start by splashing cold water on my face to cool my hot skin. I splash my face repeatedly, watching the redness gradually fade. A little concealer helps with the worst blotchiness. Some mascara to hide my swollen eyes.

For some reason, I reach for my older glasses instead of the usual oversized ones that hide half my face. My older pair is thin, with delicate wire frames that make me look professional. Maybe even a little sophisticated. They don't hide me as well, but they bring out the little flecks of green in my otherwise brown eyes.

My default uniform is waiting on my bed: jeans and an oversized shirt. As I dress, I actually smile to myself. This tiny friendship with Sean feels precious. It's been so long since I've had anyone to talk to in person, besides stilted conversations with coworkers about spreadsheets and the weather. Raven is wonderful, but there's something different about a face-to-face connection that even the best video calls can't replicate.

And… I know I can't deny the attraction I'm feeling.

Frowning at myself for such inappropriate desires, I run my fingers through my hair, twisting it into a messy bun. Not very polished, but it's just me and Sean hanging out. And I'm not here for anything more than a friendly chat, which is all I can handle anyway.

Just a normal person having a normal book discussion with her normal security guard.

Nothing weird about that at all.

The doorbell's chime rattles my nerves.God, I hope I have some intelligent things to say.I feel a little giddy as Ibounce across the apartment, hugging my book.

One deadbolt. Two. Three. I'm already smiling. I want Sean to know that everything is okay. That I think he's a cool guy and a great protector and my little freak out was completely on me. Then we can put that little incident behind us and I can stop ruminating on it.

I open the door prepared to drop my gaze and avoid any unwanted flashbacks, but instead I find myself frozen in place. My mouth hangs open as I gape with no shame.

Blue.

My world is suddenly filled with blue.

Electric, shocking, unmistakably blue hair styled to be messy and spiky.

Blue and… Sean. Only Sean. Completely, undeniably Sean. No overlap, no flashbacks, no Director lurking beneath the surface. Just a man with impossibly blue hair standing in my doorway and looking slightly uncomfortable from my extended silence.

One corner of his mouth lifts in the most endearing, boyish smirk I've ever seen. "Go ahead and laugh," he says, gesturing toward his head. "I know I look ridiculous."

Laughter is the furthest thing from what's building inside me. This overwhelming honey-warm relief spreading through my chest has nothing to do with humor and everything to do what he's done.

My vision blurs as tears crowd the corners of my eyes. Sean stiffens, his smirk faltering as a pale worry creases his forehead. He's misreading my reaction.

"Why?" I whisper. My voice has suddenly forgotten how to work.

His shoulders level out, eyes steady on mine. "I'm here for a job and to keep you safe. I can't do that if you feel uncomfortable around me." He gestures to his blue hair again. "I thought making myself look K-pop would help."

The joke hangs between us, but I can't laugh, not when I'm overcome by the significance of this blue hair.

I'm still staring and not giving him much to go on, so his nose crinkles and his lips fold in on themselves in a wilted frown. "It was the wrong move, wasn't it?"

I shake my head quickly, everything blurry through my building tears. Words feel too inadequate and clumsy for this avalanche of emotion. No one haseverconsidered me this deeply. No one has ever made such a profound sacrifice for my comfort. And no one has ever seen my open wounds and, instead of backing away, wanted to soothe them.

My palm presses against my chest, trying to contain every new feeling inside me. "Thank you, Sean." Three simple words that can't convey enough meaning, but they're all I have.

He's satisfied enough by that and lets a smile relax his face. "You're welcome."

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