SHE STARED AT ME WITH CONFUSED eyes as I collapsed to the ground, my head in my hands. They were trembling as I raked my fingers through my hair and she slowly crouched down, her expression unreadable.

"What do you mean, Thalia?" If I weren't having a panic attack right now, I would have probably locked in the fact that she called me by my first name. But right now, I could care less what she called me.

Had I relented and allowed her to make me breakfast, it would for sure be all over this nice floor. Fortunately for Madora's floor, my stomach was empty, so all I could do was dry heave as my panic attack heaved through my entire body.

Images hit me like bricks. The memory was revealed yesterday, but it still felt as if I were seeing it for the first time. The way he led me up to the empty bedroom, while all I could do was scream inside my own head.

The way Madora and the girl gave me suggestive grins, not realizing that the girl they had seen was under the influence of a drug that made her unable to fight back, unable to stop the actions that would play out.

The way my body allowed him play out those actions even as I fought inside.

My stomach churned and I cried out, burying my face in my arms. The wound kept bleeding and bleeding, never stopping the pain that shot through my chest.

And then the pain dimmed as warmth surrounded me. I could smell the breezy perfume, only causing my stomach to churn more. Yet as the warmth enveloped me, my panic seemed to decrease. The painful images of that night were beginning to lessen, and a soft, comforting voice replaced them, fighting them away like light fighting off darkness.

It was then my mind managed to comprehend it. Madora had fell beside me and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me between her legs with her chest pressed against my back. Her arms were around my torso and her hands ran up and down my sides, a non-sexual, soothing motion. Her face was in my hair and she was murmuring things to me. I only made out a few things, including, "Shh . . . It's okay," and, "I've got you, you're alright. Breath."

I let myself grow limp in the Mafia Boss' arms, not finding any strength or will to grab my pride and pull away from her embrace. My skin had been ripped away, leaving the heart between my breasts exposed, vulnerable, and in pain. The facade I had been holding up for only a day and a half had broken, a facade that I had thought was strong enough to withhold any lashes and forces that were hurled at me. Yet it broke so easily, as if it were nothing more than a weakened tree branch easily snapped in half.

So much of me was exposed to Madora now, there for her to take and bend to her will. I would not have any strength to stop her from it.

But she didn't. She wrapped her arms tighter around me as my exterior crumbled, as if her embrace would be my knew protection, the new wall that would guard my exposed and broken heart. Her lips were the knights that sent word to the Queen, my heart, that everything was alright, that she would be just fine. That she didn't need to be scared.

Eventually, the feeling returned to my body. The panic attack ended, but it left me drained and slightly numb. My toes and fingers were buzzing with numbness, my eyes stung with the tears that had broken through the ducts. My body was weak and tired from how much the attack had taken from me, and my chest was still hurting with the emotional pain I had just experienced.

"Just like that. Good girl," Madora was whispering. Something clicked in my mind, and I instantly understood. She had been talking me through my panic attack, giving me words of comfort and breathing steps.

And my mind and body had unconsciously listened to her.

Even two minutes after my attack, I didn't leave her arms. She didn't make any move to try and remove me either, she simply let me lay against her. I felt safety around her, warmth and safety. I don't know why. Only yesterday she had given me the coldest side of Madora anyone could experience, yet she sat with me in her arms, letting me ruin her really nice and probably expensive shirt with my tears.

After some minutes of silence, she murmured, "Are you okay?" Her hand ran down my arm, a trail of sparks following the touch.

"No," I whispered, my voice raspy from the crying, "I don't think I'll be okay for a while."

She rests her chin on the top of my head. "What happened?" she murmured, her eyes lowering to look at me. I glanced at the blue of them, feeling my heart start to race at the tenderness they held. "What triggered this?"

"Do I have to talk about it now?"

Madora was silent for a minute, seeming to consider the words. "Yes," she said eventually. "Yes. You don't have to go into detail. I just need to know . . . I cannot help you if I do not know what brought the attack on, pretty girl."

I rest my cheek on her chest and swallowed the building lump in my throat, staring at the wall and trying to find the words to describe my memory. "Remember that party a few weeks back?"

"Yes." Her response was immediate. Perhaps her memory was good, or something worth remembering occurred. I didn't think to much on it.

"Please don't makenke

"I — I was drugged. Someone . . . " I breathed in carefully, closing my eyes and opening them again, "Someone I trusted a lot slipped something into my drink. They then . . ." My throat closed, and my head dropped. "I realized what happened only when they were leading me to an empty room. My body was so responsive, but inside I tried to scream. I—" my voice broke.

Suddenly Madora stiffened. "Wait. I remember you and that guy walking past me and Sasha. . ." Her voice trailed off, and I looked up quickly to see the horror and anger on her face. "Oh God. You don't mean . . ."

My eyes dropped, confirming her suspicion. Madora's breathing became heavier, and her body had tightened its embrace on me. She was angry, I could feel it in the way her body moved against mine.

"I don't even know why I just told you that." My face buried in my hands and I felt disgusted with myself. "It's bad enough I couldn't stop him. It's my fault. I should've just lied to you or something."

"Thalia, what he did to you is not your damn fault," was the blonde's growled response. "Trust me, I know. You can't help but blame yourself because why else would he do it, right? He might of thought you were a tease." I flinched, and she soothes me by running her hands down my arms. "Well it's bullshit. It is not your fault. Hear me?"

"If you say so," I muttered, scowling down at the ground beneath me. Nausea drifted upward again, but I held it back. I had nothing to vomit up, but that didn't mean dry heaving was attractive to see.

She shifted and I panicked. "Wait." I grabbed her wrist. It annoyed me how reliant I was on Madora right now. My eyes watched her pleadingly, my heart racing against my chest in fear, feeling it start to crawl up my throat. "P—please don't leave me," I whispered.

She peered down at me and then settled again, her arms hesitantly circling me again. "Alright," she murmured, brushing her fingers through my hair. "I'm here." I closed my eyes, relief flooding through me again.

At some point, my state of mind would return to a level that would scold me for being so close to someone — for allowing the one I could not have close to me.

But for now, I let her hold me as I fell apart piece by piece.