"My soul bleeds and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly, swallows me whole."

*****************

Valerie's POV

A surge of shock held me in its grip, rendering me momentarily frozen. The man's gaze left Max and went to me. His brows knit together briefly, as if grappling with a moment of uncertainty, and then, in the blink of an eye, a glimmer of recognition ignited in his intense emerald gaze. I felt a lump form in my throat, the intensity of his eyes sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Caught off guard, I stood there, grappling with a wave of uncertainty in the face of this unexpected encounter.

Amid my silent astonishment, Max's hand closed around mine with a firm grip. The warmth of his touch drew my attention back to him. Without acknowledging or exchanging words with either of the men, he silently pulled me along with him toward the kitchen, an urgency in his grip.

He let go of my hand when we got inside the kitchen. Ever so casually, he moved to the fridge and pulled out the leftover food, almost like nothing happened...pretending that nothing happened. My gaze remained fixed on him, absorbing his body language—the clenching of his jaw, the tight grip on the innocent container as he placed it on the counter.

He opened a drawer to retrieve a plate only to accidently open the wrong one. The little mistake had him angrily shut the drawer with a thud, letting his frustration on the poor wood.

He paused in his movements, his palms falling onto the surface and his head hung slightly low, trying to grasp back his control. Sensing his struggle, I approached, the soft sound of my footsteps causing him to turn his head in my direction.

I was about to open my mouth and speak but the sound of someone approaching had me close my mouth, my eyes flickered to the entrance as that same man made his way in, toward us...toward Max.

Max locked eyes with the man, and the latter halted a few meters away, "How are you feeling?" he inquired, a touch of severity in his tone, almost like he wanted to scold him next.

"Great," Max answered, the sarcasm evident in his tone.

The man's jaw clenched, "Look, Max, if I ever see you at the bunker again after this, I am telling Alex, you get that?" He said, not shying away from literally scolding him, "Jeremy told me, how you've been pushing yourself and your body to the edge, and look what happened-"

"This has nothing to do with that—" Max tried to speak but the man - what the hell is his name - cut him off sharply, "You heard me Max, I see you there again, I am telling Alex. End of discussion."

What is he talking about?

Max's jaw tensed, and he glared at the man, their similar gazes converging into an unspoken conflict, leaving uncertainty as to who would emerge as the casualty in this silent war.

The man's eyes left Max and briefly drifted to me. Nervously, I shifted on my feet, unsure of what to say or do. It was not my place to either hate or like the man but...but I wanted to hate him because I could feel the waves of anger and hurt radiating off Max. I thought...I thought he'd remind me of David, that he'd look like him, act like him but he just appeared so different.

David had a villainous aura etched into every contour of his face, blending it with a certain charm as he navigated through life, taking whatever he desired without regard for others.

But this man...he looks different.

Or maybe he is just the same. Or even worse. I wouldn't know.

My lips twitched into a very small barely noticeable thing that couldn't even be named as a smile. He gave me a small nod of acknowledgment before he turned around and walked out, leaving us alone.

The anger Max harbored inside him came tumbling out and he slammed his fist over the wooden surface. His entire demeanor seemed to be engulfed in rage, more than ready to flip the whole kitchen upside down but he remained glued to the same spot.

I always had this belief, that a person's true colors emerged in moments of anger.

So, when I brought my hand forward and rested it over his arm, not gonna lie, I was hesitant.

My touch caught him off guard, almost like for a second he forgot that I was still standing right there. His head whipped in my direction and almost instantly, his shoulders eased, tension releasing, and his expression softened, as if finding a semblance of peace in my simple touch. He heaved a low breath, and the storm inside him momentarily calmed.

"I am sorry," He mumbled, apologizing for being all over the place.

Okay, you know what, I hate that man...

I shook my head, "It's okay," I whispered, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, "Not really."

I nodded my head, respecting his boundaries but the worry building up inside me had me brush the side of his hair before I tiptoed, reaching for him and softly pecking his cheek, hoping to pull him away from that disturbing lane of thoughts and back to me. He has been through enough already, with his wavering health and all.

When I pulled back, Max's eyes widened and shock erupted all over his face, "Woah, this is so weird," He mumbled, probably just now coming to terms that we were actually starting something over here, "Wait, wait, now that you are my girlfriend, does it mean I can kiss you whenever I want?" He asked, a smile breaking into his face, finding a sense of delight in that fact.

I gave him a nonchalant look and shook my head, "Of course not, you still need to take my permission," I pointed out and his smile fell down, a scowl crawling into his breathtaking features.

"You know that you are taking all the fun out of this relationship thing," He mumbled, pouting like a kid.

I crossed my arms over my chest and regarded him with a glare, "What the hell did you think we'd do?"

He shrugged, "Well, for starters, I'd push you into this counter, spread your legs apart, and eat you alive instead of the food-"

My eyes widened and I slapped his arm, "Hey!" I shot out at his unfiltered mouth, my eyes going to the entrance, and hissed at him, "Are you insane? Your parents are in the house!"

He shrugged, like it was so casual, "So?"

I huffed out, questioning my latest decision while he kept his eyes on me, they flickered all over my face and his smile came back, all soft and joyous, almost like he couldn't believe that this was actually happening. He edged closer to me, his hand coming and resting over the side of my waist, "If we're not going to do the kitchen counter thing, can I at least take you out on a date or something," He asked, being an adorable dork, "Tomorrow?"

My shoulder slumped down and I shook my head, "I can't," I mumbled, "Not tomorrow I mean, I have work to catch up to."

"The day after?" He asked, hopeful still.

I shook my head, "I also have work on that day, actually, I am full for the next three days."

Lines etched his forehead, and his frown deepened, "So, what, am I not gonna see you till the weekend?" He said, whining.

I nodded my head, "Yes, I was supposed to be at work today too but I had to cancel so I can come here and check on you," I mumbled. Yes, this is cool and all, and I am stupidly fond of him for some unknown reason but I have other responsibilities that I need to take care of. If I am making the decision to start a relationship, then I need to be fully responsible this time around. I have so much at stake.

"This sucks," He said, annoyance tightening the lines between his eyebrows, "You work too much," He added, the annoyance transforming into worry as he whispered, more like an inner thought he voiced out, "Don't you get tired?"

I do. I am. Always. Every muscle and nerve in my body is constantly aching and exhausted. If you'd leave me, I'd sleep for a week without interruptions. But this is good for me. Exhaustion helps my mental state. When I am exhausted, I don't think. I don't have the time to think; not of my 'relationship' with David, not of losing Dad, not of Renee's health, nor of my mother's unstable behavior.

I am better this way.

This works for me.

I am okay.

Not that I can afford not to work either. My mom would never pay for anything I needed; she barely even helps with Renee's needs. I need to work, relying on this financial support, especially for Renee's sake. She depends on me, and I am all she has left. Failing her in any way is not an option.

"Valerie," Max's whispered word, and the sensation of his gentle fingers on my cheek pulled me back to the present. I blinked and looked at him; his face so close, his heartbreakingly beautiful green eyes searching mine, for something, for a clue to understand me...or unravel me altogether. You never know.

"Hmm?"

He sensed that something was not right with me, his gaze, so similar to that man, penetrated through, so deep, almost like he could see right down to my shattered soul, like he was able to detect that black little thing etched into it. Maybe if he sees that part of me too he'd decide he's better off far away from me.

Instead of prying further, he let his hand drop down, he edged backward just a bit and decided it was better not to intrude. He respected my boundaries like I had just respected his a few minutes ago. And for that, I was thankful.

"You know," He said, clearing his throat and his eyebrow arching, his mood flipping a hundred-eighty, "I could save you all the trouble and just hire you."

My eyebrows pulled closer, "Hire me to do what?"

The smirk that pulled the corner of his lip and that devilish look in his eyes was enough to have me regret my previous question. His lips parted to speak but I held my hand up, "I'd like to remind you that we are in a kitchen, and I have easy access to different types of knives," I was hoping to make my point clear, "Think twice about that before you make any comment about me being a sex worker."

His jaw fell down, "I didn't say a thing," He tried to defend himself, "Always expecting the worst of me, aren't you?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, of course, it's all me and you're just sooo innocent."

He nodded, "Yeah, I am," He said, his tone and the fake puppy look in his eyes could convince any stranger that he was a fallen angel from heaven, "I mean, come on, look at this face, it's all pure and innocence," He addressed his face ever so playfully, "Look at it."

"I am looking," I am either drunk or maybe he drugged me, "It's a beautiful face."

My own eyes widen. What the hell did I just say?!

Max's eyes grew wide again, "Girl, you are going to kill me today, aren't you," He pushed himself forward when he sensed that I was ready to bolt. His arm snuck around my waist, his palm pressed into my lower back, pulling me so close, that my lower body got plastered all against his, "If me passing out and ending up in the hospital makes you like this then I am never taking my meds ever again."

"Max-" I wanted to protest but the feel of his warm fingers on my cheek, moving and resting below my chin, tipping my head up shushed me, "Don't challenge me to do that, Gingy," He said, his tone dropping to a dangerous level, his gaze flickering from my eyes and below to my lips, "I am that depraved."

I tried to act nonchalant, like my body wasn't on fire, like his closeness and intoxicating scent weren't threatening my sanity and emotions; As if his messy-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed hair, and his devilish smirk, and that demon in his eyes didn't have the potential to terrorize my heart. My breath hitched when I felt...him. He had me in such a fucked-up position, my stomach was all pressed against his thingy.

You can call it a penis, Valerie, it's just an organ, remember?

"Goddammit Max, I can feel your..." I wanted to hit him. How could he get hard now and this fast? Just because I called his face beautiful? I take it back. I take it all back.

"My dick?" He said the word on my behalf, always blunt, always an asshole.

"Yeah, aren't you a romantic?" I grumbled out.

"Yeah, that was never my thing," He said, dismissing my words. I needed him to let me go, I needed to pull away from him...So, so, why wasn't I?

His thumb tenderly moved from my chin to the corner of my mouth before it grazed my lower lip, the warmness, and the calloused feeling almost made me gasp, "I can't shake this image out of my head."

I must've gone crazy because why would I ask what I whispered next, "What image?"

His thumb ran over my lower lip, ever so tenderly, his gaze focused on there only, "These beautiful pouty lips wrapped around my cock as I pound into your mouth while you stare up at me with those breathtaking eyes, all teared up, high, on cloud nine, and enjoying every bit of me like I am going to enjoy consuming you whole," Jesus Christ!

His fingers moved, and he ran them ever so gently to the side of my head, entangling and threading them between my hair, wrapping and twisting each strand as he cupped the side of my scalp, his eyes following every move he made, "As my hand fists this delicate hair, pulling and pushing, moving your head like I please as you take me," He took a fistful of my hair into his hand, not enough to hurt, just enough to lay his claim.

And god, I felt...I felt something I'd never felt before. It's warm and liquidy. It builds up in my stomach, rising and ratcheting with every word he said, with every breath he took, only to drop like a whoosh below, and my knees weakened, my hand fisted and grasped into his arms, needing the support or I would collapse.

"Such a sight, isn't it, " His voice, the intensity, the twisted melody he was threading nearly undid me, "Just ethereal, out of this world."

My lips parted just a little to release that suffocating breath but it didn't get missed by him, his gaze went down to my lips, like they were the prey and he was the predator, "Told you, Valerie, I am depraved," I noticed how he calls my full name on rare occasions only, "And if you don't stop me, I will make you as depraved as me."

"If I don't kiss you right now, I feel like I'd fucking die," He grated out, a pained hiss woven between his words and I don't question it, because I felt the same, almost like my whole life depended on it. On him, on his lips, on his sweet addictive taste.

"Kiss me," I whispered, giving him the permission he sought and before I could finish my next breath, his lips slammed into mine with such feverness and need, it sucked all the oxygen out of me. My body got backed into the counter, trapped, and one of his hands fell onto its surface, while the other stayed fisted in my hair, tugging hard enough now, enough to push and inject himself into my veins.

"Ahh fuc..Oops," The new voice pushed into my consciousness and I pressed my palm over Max's chest, prying him away from me because he seemed like he didn't care and just wanted to carry on.

My eyes grew wide, my whole face flushed and I felt the need to crawl right out of my skin when my head whipped and my gaze fell on his father, his feet halting by the entrance, our little act of intimacy caught by him. Great. Awesome, just awesome. His gaze was on his son, and his eyebrow arched playfully, the twitch in his lips didn't ease my nervousness and now I really wanted to die.

"Not cool, Dad, not cool," Max grumbled out, annoyed at the interruption. Without missing a beat, he curled his hand over my arm, dragging me alongside him as he intended to head out of the kitchen, and I just allowed him to do whatever he pleased because the nerves connecting my legs and brain together malfunctioned. Scratch that, every nerve in my being short-circuited.

"Oh, revenge does taste sweet," His father's delighted words had Max pause by his side, his eyes narrowing at his dad and he grumbled out, "Seriously now?"

His dad shrugged, the smile pulling up his lips was so soft, so charming and I wanted to die again, "Do you have any idea how many times you cockblocked me as a kid, it's my time now, young man," He said, ever so casually, like this was so casual, like I didn't want to dig a hole and die in it.

"Also, the kitchen counter is kind of your mother and my thing, if you want that too, get your own damn kitchen," He said in annoyance and my eyes were ready to crawl out and fall into the floor. WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?

Now I know where Max gets his unfiltered mouth from...

Max narrowed his eyes at him, "This is not over, Dad," He said, challenging him, and his father's expression relaxed, breaking into another soft smile, almost like he could finally glimpse a sight of his old son back, "You will be only playing with fire, son," He added, taunting him back, a secret silent conversation being communicated between the two because Max's annoyance broke and his lips twitched into a similar smile.

"Don't worry, I know how to play," Max said, "Learned from the best," He added and for a second there, I forgot it all, forgot that we got caught, that they're both so obnoxious and blunt. I forgot it when I stared at Max's face, at his expression, so tender, so soft, god I'd never seen him wear this intense expression before. Like he wanted to crawl out and push himself into his father's embrace, like he wanted to be just a kid again, he desperately wanted to go back to a time before that other man existed.

A time preceding the day I saw him at that hospital's rooftop.

I was shaken back when his dad's gaze fell on me. He smiled. I remembered what just happened and I begged for an escape, "Hey, Valerie," He said, so sweet, so charming and I gulped down.

"Hi," I squeaked out.

His chuckle was low and throaty, he understood my embarrassment and pushed at his son's arm, "Take your girl and get out of here," He urged, saving me more humiliation.

Max threw a goodnight at him before he pulled me out and up the stairs, back to his room. And I kept silent, lost.

Your...your girl? I've been someone's girl only once in this life. My dad's girl. That's it. I don't want to be anyone else's girl.

Max shut the door behind us, his eyebrows pulling closer as he tried to read my flustered expression, "Gingy?" He called for me, using that silly nickname, reserving my real name for rare occasions, for when he presses his...thingy into me and threatens my sanity.

Gosh...

My gaze flickered around the room before it fell into his bed, feeling out of sorts, "We are not sleeping on the same bed again, are we?" It's becoming a habit and I don't like it.

His eyebrows pulled closer, and he turned back to look at his bed before he faced me, trying to understand my hesitation, considering it wouldn't be the first time, "Why wouldn't we?"

I shook my head, "I don't want to wake up with your thing pressed into me."

"My dick?"

"Yeah, keep saying that word Prince Charming," I mocked.

He rolled his eyes, "Come on, stop being overdramatic," He said, "Take off your clothes and join me in the bed," My eyes widened and he chuckled, "I mean, change into something comfortable and come join me for sleep, I am starting to feel dizzy again," He added the last part a bit tiredly as he rubbed at his temple, reaching for the bed and settling on its edge.

My heart clenched tight and I rushed forward to him, "What do you mean?" I questioned and he pressed both his hands over his temples, lowering his head down like he was struggling with something, "Are you okay?" Worry started to spread all over my chest, scratching at my walls and I rested my hand on each side of his face, "Is there something hurting you? What should I do? Should I call for your parents?" Don't panic, don't panic, "Is there-"

He slowly lifted his head up, his amused eyes meeting mine and he removed his hands before he broke into a big smile, "You are so adorable."

My eyes widened and I pushed my hands away from him, "You are faking?" I grated out, clenching my teeth and ready to back away but his hand caught my wrist and pulled back in, "I like it when you pamper me," He said and I tried to push my hand out of his grip. He is fucking insane.

"Depraved," I grumbled and he nodded, "Exactly and I am gonna corrupt you too, now come here."

"Let me go, dickhead," I grated out, angry.

"Tsk tsk, how can you say such a word, princess," He recalled my previous words and I groaned loudly, frustrated at everything he is.

He chuckled, enjoying my misery, and pulled me in, almost making me fall into his lap, "We will just sleep," He said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I am not going to sexually assault you in your sleep, sweetheart."

I froze.

Sweetheart.

One, two, three...

And then I felt it, like a bucket of very cold water poured at me.

'Do you like this, sweetheart?'

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, my senses, my brain, and my body failed me.

'You like the feel of me buried deep inside of you, hmm?'

Sick. Pain. Hurt. Bleeding. Blood. Crimson. Red. Words and feelings floated through my weak drugged brain, it tried to fight and not succumb to the darkness.

It tried. I tried.

I was here but also not. Maybe it would be better if I wasn't.

If the darkness consumed me...

'This is what happens when you don't listen to me, Val,' Thrust. Pain, so much pain, 'When you don't understand how you're only mine,' Fingers tighten around my face, bruising, 'Who do you belong to, sweet, sweet Val?'

Sweet...sweet Val.

Sweet.

Swee-

A hand tried to clutch my arms. I claw and hit it. Push it. Punch it. I do everything. I wanted to scream. To claw out of my skin, to throw up.

"Val—"

He can't get me, not again, no, no, not again.

I escaped. He can't find me anymore.

"Valerie!"

My breathing caught on and I got startled at the sound of my name. I blinked, once, twice and the mirage broke apart. I wasn't in that car, wasn't in that room, not in that house.

I am here. I am free.

Max's face was contoured in all types of confusion and pain, his chest is heaving like mine and he is trying to hold me close, to shake me out of my trance. My eyes grew wide when they took notice of the red scratch mark running down the inside of his arm and to his bicep. My fingers shook, I did that. Oh god, not this, not now, not here, not in front of him.

I knew and understood what just happened to me. It wasn't the first and won't be the last.

You see, I never had the chance to process my pain. Couldn't. I was thrown from one agony and thrust into another tragedy with Dad's death; with the accident—Scratch that, with the fucking planned murder.

I didn't have the luxury to go to a therapist.

I didn't have the opportunity to heal. Not the healthy way, at least.

So, I read. I read so much. I read everything and anything to understand. I read how there could be triggers all around me; names, words, faces, places. Triggers that could push me right back into the eye of the storm. This was my own form of PTSD, my survival guilt gnawing at me from the inside out, ripping me apart at the seams.

Max grabbed both of my hands in his, the same hands I hit and scratched him with, "Valerie," He whispered, ever so weakly, like he could unravel beside me too.

"I should go," I managed to say, monotonously.

I pushed myself away from him and looked around for my backpack, "I have to go," I added and Max blocked my way, bewildered at everything and mostly at himself, "Go where?" He asked, the frown deepening between his brows.

"To my house," I gulped down, "My mother probably didn't come back, I can't leave Reneé alone," Lies, I texted Reneé a while ago and checked on her. Mom was home. But I needed to be out of here, I needed to be anywhere else now.

"Please move out of my way," I said, my voice hardening.

He shook his head, "No, look...I didn't—" He seemed to grapple with what he wanted to say, "Fuck Valerie, I am so sorry," He added over a pained tensed whisper, it felt like he was apologizing even for David's sins, the deep sorrow in his tone felt like he was apologizing in the name of every fucked up male in this world.

But he doesn't know. He shouldn't ever know, "You didn't do anything, Max," I added, softer this time. He didn't do a thing. It's me. It's all in me, "But I have to go."

He brought his hand up to touch me and stop me but his movements paused midway, hesitating and he retreated his hand back, his fingers curling into the inside of his palm, "I will stay in another room, I promise," He said, "Just stay, it's really late, please."

I hesitated still, "Please, Valerie, stay," He added and I felt my shoulders slumping down, defeated against him.

"I can't kick you out of your own room," I mumbled.

He shook his head, "No, it's nothing, Lilly's old room is just across, I will crash there tonight."

I felt like such a shitty person, "Maybe it's better if I just go-"

"No, look, it's late, it's dark, it's dangerous," He explained the reason behind his insistence, "And I am not exactly a reliable driver now, with the meds I took, I really do feel dizzy lots of the time," He added, "So, please stay, just tonight."

I gulped down and nodded my head, "Okay."

My acceptance had his shoulders dropping down, the tension releasing. The muscles of his jaw worked and he brought his hand and scratched his neck, "Just be comfortable, okay?" He said, "Just rest, and if you need anything, I am just around the corner."

I nodded my head, "Thanks," I whispered and he shook it off like it was nothing, bidding me goodnight, he strode out of his own room and closed the door behind him.

I sucked into a deep breath and slumped over the edge of his bed, de-energized and drained. Exhausted. Mentally more than physically this time.

I looked around me, feeling like an asshole for kicking him out of his room. A room so simple, so neatly organized, not one thing out of place except for the tousled bed sheets. A mixture of grey and white adorned the walls, creating an ambiance of calm and sophistication.

The little details spoke of a neat freak's touch – everything had its designated spot. Small antique car toys lined a shelf, each one carefully placed, probably some sort of a collection. Books, their spines bearing the marks of countless readings, were neatly arranged on a nearby bookshelf.

I felt weird, almost like I was prying in on the personal intimate details of his life. But within the walls and confines of his room, I felt like I was meeting someone else, someone so different from the playful charming boy. Someone who had more depth than his outward demeanor suggested, with a pinch of darkness he traps somewhere, beneath it all and under a rug.

I felt more curious and entrapped.

I think there is much more to him than meets the eye, and I couldn't help but wonder if he thinks the same of me. What does he see me as? A challenge? A pretty face? A cold-hearted girl? A poor girl? A weak broken girl?

I shook my head, tucking it all away and I wandered to his closet, pulling the first thing my hand landed on, anything comfortable to help me relax and maybe get some sleep, if I can. I quickly changed into his shorts and a random shirt before I pushed myself into the comfort of his bed, sinking under the covers.

I rested my hand under my cheek, my gaze focused on the window broadcasting the beautiful full moon. I closed my eyes ready to fall asleep but after a hundred thousand attempts, I stayed awake still.

An hour passed, then two, three even...

Groaning, I pulled the phone from the nightstand and typed down:

Did you sleep?

Max: No.

Wow, he replied so fast.

Max: You?

I rolled my eyes and typed:

Yeah, texting you from a dream...

Max: So, you dream about me too?

Why can't you sleep?

Max: Thinking

About?

Max: You.

I let out a low groan and typed next:

Come here.

Max: Here where?

To your room doofus, I am opening the door now, come on.

I jumped off the bed and as silently as I could clicked the door open, just in time as Max reached me. He paused by the entrance for a second too long, his gaze flickering all over my face, trying to read my thoughts and failing.

He walked inside and carefully, I closed the door shut.

I turned around and Max was the first to speak, "Are you mad at me?"

Why is he just so damn adorable?

I shook my head, "No."

His expression tightened with a foreign feeling, something I didn't get, something he didn't understand either, new and brand, "I am sorry."

I shook my head again, "Stop apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I did," He mumbled, "I hurt you," He added, his eyebrows pulling closer, and for a second there, I felt like he understood, like he knew, like he read behind all of my lies and reached beyond the walls, "Even if it was unintentional."

I fell silent.

What could I say?

"Let's just sleep, okay?" I suggested and he nodded his head, following me as I strode toward the bed.

I tucked myself under the covers and he joined me there too but he kept his distance away from me for some reason. I must be crazy because I snuggled closer to him, so close that I felt him tense up.

He took his sweet time, and a low suppressed groan rumbled from his chest, "Come here," He said before I felt his arms sneak around my body, pulling me so close, till we were one and the same.

A small smile lifted my lips and I sank into him, my back pressing into his front and I rested my hand over his, the one he had plastered over my belly. I felt my exhaustion getting depleted by the second but before my eyelids could drop down, they fell down into his arm, the one under me, the one I scratched, and the scratch was still there, fresh and red.

My chest clenched tight and I brought my hand toward it, my fingers carressed it ever so tenderly before I turned my head to look at him, "I am sorry." I whispered.

He shook his head, a bit of tease curling at his lips, "Sorry for what? You know I like it kinky," He said, "I just didn't know you were into that too," He added amusingly.

"Oh, you've seen nothing yet," I mocked him and he fell for it.

He tightened his arms around me, "It's okay, I've got so much time to see all of it," He mumbled, a hidden meaning behind his words, one where he implied that he would take this as slowly as I wanted. We had all the time in the world.

But did we really?

I edged closer, softly pecked his cheek, and pulled back, "Goodnight."

Breathlessly, he stared at me, it was almost like something as little as me pecking his cheek meant the whole world to him. He edged closer and returned the gesture, pecking my cheek, his lips lingering there a bit too long for this to be called a peck.

His lips are so warm, soft, addictive, and I was doomed, shocked when I found myself trying to imagine what they would feel like over every inch of my body.

Steps, Valerie. Baby steps.

"Goodnight, girlfriend," He whispered into my hair.

I chuckled lowly, amused at how much he likes to use that word. It's new and exciting for him. Will it get boring with time? Will I? What will he think of me after he learns my truth, my past?

I suppressed the messy thoughts, pushing them under, and focused on the present as I rapidly sank into a deep slumber within the comforts of his big warm embrace.

Maybe I was dreaming, or maybe it was real, my brain was overdosed on sleep to comprehend. But, I heard it, a whisper, a vow, a promise into the night.

"I will never let anyone hurt you again, I promise."

Deep down in my dreams, I smiled. I felt safe and I knew, I was sure that he really wouldn't.

In my dream this time, there were lights, colors, beautiful shiny colors. Him and me. Smiles. Laughs. Safe.

He kept me safe.

And like that, in a flicker of a second, the light became dark. The safe became dangerous. The laughs transformed into tears. Agonizing hurtful tears as my monster emerged from the shadows; as my monster ruthlessly hurt him and took him away from me.

Just like that, and the dream became a nightmare again.

*********************************

Hey!

I don't know about you but I just love these two together 🥹
Don't forget to vote and comment!

See ya soon! :)