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Steve’s fingers trail over the scars on Toni’s belly, tracing each of the marks left behind from the shrapnel that had nearly ended her life in Afghanistan.
Of course, the biggest of these scars lies not on her belly but between her breasts where the arc reactor is nestled, glowing softly in the darkness.
Brushing his lips over one of the scars, he hears it when Toni exhales unevenly, her fingers tightening in his hair. Tension fills her body and Steve kisses another, gentle and soft while his fingers spread out soothingly over her belly.
“I used to think they were ugly,” she whispers softly and Steve makes a soft negative sound, kissing over them again, sighing when her nails scrape gently against his scalp.
“Not anymore?” he asks, thumbing at the sharp jut of her hipbone.
“Rhodey gave me a vase, not long after, that had been shattered and then put back together using the Japanese kintsugi method. He told me that just because something had been broken didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful anymore.”
Steve hums and kisses her scars again before rotating his head to look over at where the vase rests on their bedside table. “You are,” he says, tilting his head to look up at her, “beautiful,” he clarifies, warmth spreading through him at the way she smiles at him, her painted nails caressing his cheek softly.
“Since you looked at them like they were precious, I find it easier to believe,” she says quietly and Steve leans up on an elbow to kiss her, contentment filling him when she pulls him closer and tugs the sheets over their heads.