Oya stood before the mirror and looked at her body. She ran her fingers over the scars on her forearms. Her body was a testament to the dangers she'd encountered over the years. She took bites from werewolves, claws from monsters, bullets, and knives from humans. She could tell a story about each and every scar on her body. Her fingers traced the deep scars on her arms. The Asambosam, her archnemesis for years. Her recklessness almost cost her her life and these scars were a reminder of that. Grief... Grief was the reason for her lack of thought. She wanted to die during battle and join her family as fast as she could. She wanted to die or at least that was what she thought until she got hurt. Dean was there and he reminded her that there was more to life than what she thought. She had a reason to keep going. She had a reason to stay alive: HIM.
Oya was still uncomfortable at times when staring at her scars. How could Dean still find her attractive with those ugly reminders of her recklessness? He always managed to soothe her heart and help her deal with her insecurities. Dean loved her, scars or not, he only saw a badass woman.... yes, he saw a beautiful woman. She felt her heartbeat go faster as her fingers traced the gunshots on her taut belly and the knife scars that decorated her skin. She let her fingers grab a few brown locks and slowly played with them. She twirled them in her fingers for a moment before she dropped her hands alongside her body. Her line of work made it quite impossible for her to be out of harm's way. Her body was a weapon, but it was also vulnerable. She was vulnerable and there was nothing wrong with it. She was vulnerable and there was no shame to feel about it. Dean welcomed her with her flaws and qualities. He welcomed her with everything that made her her and that soothed her heart. that made it beat harder. That made it beat faster. That made it... Beat!
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