Never want to grow up

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. It was reluctant, like he was forcing himself to give you space. He didn’t say a word. Not a single one.

His thumb lifted and brushed along your cheek, wiping at the tear that had slipped free without you noticing. Your eyes were shining now, lashes wet, chest rising too fast as you tried to steady yourself. You looked at him like you were afraid the moment would vanish if you blinked.

He stayed close. Forehead nearly touching yours. Thumb still tracing the curve of your cheek as if memorizing it. And for the first time in your life, a man’s touch didn’t make you feel used, it made you feel safe and secure.

“Happy now?” He asked as he pulled away a little. You shrugged faintly.

He studied your face for a moment after that, really looked at you like he was making a decision he had already made a long time ago. Then his hand slipped into the inner pocket of his coat.

He pulled out a small glass vial. It caught the yellow light of the room when he held it up between you. Dark, rich red, sealed tight.

It was Blood. Someone's blood.

He held it out to you without hesitation. You didn’t flinch before taking it.

That, more than anything else, seemed to surprise him. Your fingers closed around the glass easily, naturally, like it was just another thing he had given you to hold. You turned it once in your hand, watching the liquid shift.

“Why are you giving me this?” you asked quietly. There was no fear, no repulsion, just curiosity. His eyes stayed on you, steady and unreadable as he tilted his head.

“A gift” he said simply.

That was all he said so you nodded once, accepting it as you had accepted his kiss, without question, without shrinking, without trying to understand all of it at once. Your fingers closed more firmly around the vial, holding it close to your chest.

“Is it John?”

You asked then, you had to. You knew he was the man terrorising the city, you knew he was the one to make your uncle disappear and you knew he had looked into your bag for information because he didn't keep the photos in the order you always did.

He didn’t answer right away.

Your question hung between you, fragile like a glass held too close to the edge of a table.

“No.. it's Larry’s” he said finally, his voice remained calm “I didn't think of keeping John's blood for you when I killed him” He watched your face when he said it. Not for fear, he already knew you wouldn’t flinch but for something that looked like regret or judgement.

There was none.

You absorbed the words slowly, like you did everything lately. Your fingers tightened around the vial.

“Oh..it's okay..as long as he's dead” you said, breathing in relief. That was all. Eric’s brow creased, just slightly, he wasn't really surprised by the nonchalant response.

“That’s it?” he asked so you nodded.

“I don’t want his blood” you said softly. “I just needed to know that i wasn't wrong about my assumptions” his mouth curved at that. He looked really dangerous at that moment, with the black smudgy eyes and blood stains on his skin, but not to you.

“You are not wrong” he murmured as he looked down at you. You shouldn't have to feel bad for the likes of Larry and John, in fact he'd have felt extremely pissed if you went onto some moral rant after what they had done to you.

“Is this like your trophy, like how the rest of them do it? The killers” you asked again, he shook his head once, not wanting to explain it further yet.

“Then why give this to me?” you asked again, softer this time. Not pressing. Just trying to understand how his mind worked, it was dark in there, that you knew with assurance, you just wanted to know how many steps you needed to take in order to reach for him there.

His gaze dropped not away from you but he looked down like he was choosing each word carefully.

“Because I wanted you to know that he's gone” he said. “And so are the videos, photos he took of you, the humiliation he put you through, every time he broke your skin, your face, your heart, none of that filth will ever touch you again”

He lifted his hand then, not to take the vial back, not to touch you right away but his hand hovered there, giving you the choice. When you didn’t step back, when you didn’t flinch, his fingers finally settled at your cheeks.

“They don’t get to own any part of you anymore” he said quietly. “Not your body. Not your memory. Not how they made you beg for kindness”

Your throat tightened at that. You hadn’t realized how much of your life had been spent bracing, getting punished for wanting something small and human.

“And the blood?” you asked, barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed over your skin

“It’s proof” he said. “In case the nights get loud again. In case doubt creeps in and tries to tell you it wasn’t that bad, or that you imagined it, that you didn't suffer enough, just look at this and remember it was bad enough that it made me want to kill them”

You nodded slowly. You understood the language he was speaking. The blood on his hands was now yours too.

He leaned closer then, not invading your space, just enough that his presence wrapped around you like a wall. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You placed your head down on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart.

After a moment he pulled away and stepped back.

“I need to take care of a few things” he said to you so you gave a simple nod, not inviting to cross the lines he didn't want you to cross yet.

“I'll make breakfast..eggs?”

He hummed before turning to step outside, you heard the sound of his trunk slamming a minute later, then the creaking of the shed opening. You didn't try to peek though, he was letting you in already and you didn't want to scare him away.

After showering and eating, in the early morning both of you went back to bed. The sunlight was now peering through the curtains so he grabbed one of the blankets and hooked them in front of the window.

The blanket dulled the morning light, turning the room darker, the light that leaked through now was warm but not glaring. You laid back against the pillows and he settled beside you without a word, careful with the space between your bodies like it mattered. He didn’t touch you right away.

For a moment, he just laid there, one arm folded beneath his head, the other resting on the mattress near yours. Close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Your fingers slowly trailed towards his hand, fingers lacing with him.

Then you shifted, almost unconsciously, turning onto your side to look at him, he turned toward you. His gaze softened in the low light, something unguarded slipping through that you hadn’t seen before. He reached out then, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. When you didn’t, his hand settled at your waist as he pulled you closer.

His mouth latched onto you softly at first, and then it heated up.

His hand stayed at your waist, thumb brushing slow, absent minded circles through the fabric of your shirt. Nothing hurried or taken. Just the steady certainty of him there, of the way he kissed you. You let yourself melt into it.

There was a quiet sound that left you, more breath than noise, and he stilled for half a second at that just enough to remind you that he was paying attention.

“Whenever you want to stop, you tell me, okay? If I'm doing something you don't like you tell me, if I hurt you, you tell me” he murmured, voice low and rough from the lack of sleep.

You didn’t answer with words but by lifting your hand to his chest, fingers curling around the big curve of his shoulder like it always belonged there.

“You're so sexy, I have never been with a man like you” His eyes flickered for a moment at the comment before he kissed you again. It's been a while since anyone has commented on his looks, there was a time when women loved to be around him, now they flinched at the sight of him. The tattoos, piercing and the haircut, all of it made him look the type they felt wary of.

“You like how I look?” He asked as he pinned you underneath him, not roughly but not in a way that made you feel fragile or breakable either.

“I like it a lot” his mouth curved as he kissed down from your jaw to the throat, and then lower, his mouth hovered over your breasts for a moment, you didn't say anything but unbuttoned the top few buttons of the shirt you were wearing, his shirt.

He was so used to seeing your naked body next to him so he wasn't really fazed but the intentions had changed now.

He sighed deeply before raising up on his palms, then his one hand came up to button up your shirt again with expertise.

It wasn't disinterest or that he wasn't attracted to you, he was, he just didn't want to do it right now and make you feel as if you owed him something or if you should pay him back for what he did by killing the men who had hurt you.

And well there was this other reason as well, personal reason that he didn't want to go into right now.

“How come you have so much patience even though you're a man?” you asked, you were genuinely curious. Why didn't he want to pounce on you even when you were readily available and consenting?

“That's the bare minimum you know that right?” he said as he laid back down next to you.

“Not for me” you murmured as you scooted closer to him “Can I ask questions?”

He stiffened for a moment before relaxing.

“Okay but I'll only answer what I can”

“Mmm.. when did you start doing this?” Your fingers traced over the hard lines of his torso as you spoke.

“It's been five years”

Five years. You were probably being fucked by some random man John brought up when he had set out to get his first victim.

Five years and the bodies had just begun discovering.

“Why did you do it for the first time?” You asked again. That's when his grip on your lower back tightened as if the memory alone made him want to do it all over again.

“There were these people, people with power and money, they hurt someone very important to me” his jaw clenched so you looked up at him.

Someone very important? The curly haired girl maybe?

“They should have rotted in a cell forever, that's how the law should have punished them, but one of them got out in six months on parole because of his connections, back into the society, living like he hadn't ruined someone's life”

You didn't say anything, you just listened. You knew how the mind worked at times, you had hurt someone once too when you feared your life, possibly killed him also, you never looked back to find out.

“Can I ask another question?” You mumbled as you rested your head on his chest again “There were reports of a woman's body..was she your victim?” You asked, this time he didn't stiffen or hesitate.

“Yeah she deserved it” he began “She was selling her kid to the monsters for money” You didn’t pull back. You didn’t flinch. If anything, you held him a little tighter, like you were anchoring him to the present.

His chest rose slowly beneath your cheek. Steady. Controlled. But his hand at your lower back was still tense, fingers dug in just enough to give him away.

“She wasn’t… high when she did it” he continued, voice flat but not detached. “She knew exactly what she was doing. Took the money. Looked the other way. More than once..that sweet child depended on her to keep her safe and protected-”

You could feel his jaw move as he swallowed “I don’t lose sleep over that one” he said quietly. “Some people don’t deserve mercy. They deserve to be stopped.”

You shifted, lifting your head just enough to look at him. His eyes weren’t wild or proud. They were tired. Heavy with the kind of resolve that comes from having crossed a line and deciding you’d do it again if you had to.

“Was it any different? Killing a woman?” you murmured.

He shook his head once, it was never different, even when he had people on the operating table with their chest open and sternum cracked in front of him. He treated every gender, every age equally. Killing has been the same for him.

When he fell asleep that morning, he slept for hours, but you knew that rest was temporary, that peace was temporary, you knew he'd go out there and see something that would trigger him again, Make him kill again and as much as you didn't mind him getting rid of these people, you feared what it meant for him.

He hadn't been caught yet but that doesn't mean he was immune for life.

And then that fear settled in your heart somewhere, you never had this feeling before, not after your parents died.

It was Fear.. fear of losing him.

****

Next day he was in the kitchen when you walked in.

“Morning Psycho”

It was a pet name wasn't it?

You walked behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he stiffened for a moment, the touch felt too domestic and natural. You sensed it too so you stepped away and leaned against the counter instead.

“Can I ask a question?”

He hummed but didn't respond in words, pretending to be too busy with the whisking of the eggs.

“Do you find me attractive?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just poured the eggs against the edge of the pan, the motion practiced.

“Yes” he said eventually “But not sexually” he added.

Ouch.

“Not at first” he added as if he knew exactly where your mind would go if he didn’t clarify.

You tilted your head slightly. He kept his eyes on the stove.

“I recognize the damage” he said. “I was attracted to the trauma you had suffered when I saw you that night, the bruises, the abuse, it just made me want to-” he paused, jaw clenching in anger.

“Want what? To heal me?”

He finally looked at you then. Not your body. Your face.

He shook his head slightly, like he was annoyed that you'd assume that. He did want to protect you but heal you? His bloody hands were no longer capable of healing anyone.

“No” he said. “Not heal.”

You waited.

“I don’t get drawn to people anymore because they’re pretty” he continued. “I get drawn to things that are… wrong in a specific way”

That made your stomach tighten but you understood it. You didn't get into his car that night just because he was handsome, you did it because you had a feeling he'd put you out of your misery for good.

And he did, but not how you had expected.

“You looked like someone who’d been repeatedly hurt and yet learned how to keep moving anyway” he said as he finally glanced at you then “That kind of damage leaves marks you can’t see unless you’re used to noticing them”

“So that’s attractive to you?” you asked.

“Yes” he said. “Because it’s wrong”

You let out a small breath at that, there was a small tingling sensation tightening in your core.

“Still doesn’t sound sexual” you chuckled as if you were embarrassed he didn't want to jump you the moment he saw you.

He turned back to the stove, scraping the eggs together.

“Attraction doesn’t always start in the body” he said. “Sometimes it starts with recognition. With seeing something familiar and not looking away”

You absorbed that slowly, trying to make sense of his words.

He was so complicated.

Later that night he came back late from the garage, you didn't ask why. You were in his bed, naked, he saw you and crawled in to kiss you. You pressed into him like you were starving.

He didn’t hesitate this time, his mouth was on yours, firm, intent, like he’d been holding that back all day. His weight settled carefully, controlled even now, but the kiss wasn’t restrained. It was hungry in a way that made your breath stutter, your hands clutched at his shoulders like you needed something solid to hold onto.

You pressed into him without thinking, skin to skin, every nerve lit up and aching. There was no fear in it. For a few seconds, that was all there was.

Then he broke the kiss.

“Hey” he murmured. You blinked up at him, still a little dazed by the lack of oxygen

“What?”

His eyes searched your face, sharp and focused now, like he was making sure if he really wanted to do this because once he does there would be no coming back from this.

“I need to show you something” he said.

Your stomach fluttered as he said that.

“Okay…”

He leaned back slightly, giving you space.

“Put something on” he said firmly as he got off the bed.

You hesitated for half a second, then nodded. You reached for the shirt on the chair, pulling it over your head, then slipped on your underwear. When you were done, he stood and held out his hand.

“Come with me,” he said.

You didn’t ask where. You took his hand. The night air was cold against your bare legs as he led you out of the cottage and across the yard, gravel crunching softly under your shoes. The shed stood a little apart from the house, half swallowed by shadow. He stopped just short of the door, let go of your hand and pulled the keys out from the pocket of his jacket.

“You’re not scared” he said quietly. It wasn’t really a question. You searched for the feeling and found only curiosity.

“No” He exhaled through his nose, something like relief flickering across his face

“The blood” he said, eyes on the door now as he used the keys to open them “that wasn’t a trophy”

“Mhhm?” You crossed your arms.

“But I do keep trophies” he said, smiling as he pushed open the heavy wooden doors.

You had expected a stench, the smell of blood and death, and probably rotting bodies, that's what you expected when you thought about what he was keeping inside, but nothing hit you. The light snapped on with a dull hum.

At first, it looked… almost ordinary.

Shelves lined the walls in a neat and methodical manner. Rows of glass jars stacked neatly next to each other.

The pickle jars.

A medical apron hung from a hook in the corner, stiff and clean, like it hadn't been touched for years. Stainless steel surfaces gleamed, a medical stretcher was in one corner of the room, there were equipment tucked neatly in a box on the table, then there were containers of chemicals you couldn't read the name of. Everything smelled faintly of antiseptic like a hospital.

Your breath eased. You almost laughed at yourself but as you stepped closer to the shelf it dawned on you. This is what he wanted to show you.

The jars weren’t empty.

Your stomach dropped for a moment, a slow, sickening realization spreading as your eyes adjusted. Shapes floated inside the glass, suspended in clear fluid. They were his trophies.

Human Hearts. Jars filled with hearts of his victims.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

His mother had once stated proudly that he was born with god's touch, because god couldn't be here so he sent him to save lives.

How wrong was she?

He braced his hands against the tiled wall and let the water run, let it burn, let it try and fail to wash the night out of him. Blood always came off easier than memory.

He closed his eyes and breathed, slow and measured, the way he used to before a surgery, the way he had learned to do long before killing had become a norm in his life.

He tilted his head back, water pouring down his face, and for a moment he imagined it carrying everything away.

When he finally shut the tap, the silence rushed back in. He dried off his body, pulled on a brief, not bothering to dry his hair. He then paused outside the bedroom.

The door was ajar. Moonlight spilled across the room. You were there, naked as always, tangled in his sheets. Eric leaned against the doorframe.

All the violence of the night stilled inside him when he looked at you. The world stopped to the rise and fall of your chest, you'd never have to run away from John again because he won't be here to hurt you. He was gone.

He just stood there, letting the sight of you anchor him, letting the killer inside recede into the background for the night. He always justified his crime.

At first it was for the girl who bought him a coat and laughed like the future with him wasn’t something to fear, like it was something she could have without pain touching her ever again.

Then it was for the women whose names never made it into police reports because their voices were quietened, for those innocent kids who were suffering in silence because they didn't know any better.

Now he was doing it for you. The broken little bird he had captured on his way back to the solitude one night.

He laid down on the bed next to you, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his torso. The moment you felt his weight you pressed up to look at him. The scent of soap clinging on him.

“Go back to sleep” he said as he felt your eyes on him.

“You're dripping on the mattress” you said as you touched his hair.

“Go back to sleep” he repeated as if you hadn't heard him the first time. You didn't listen to him, of course you didn't, you got off the bed instead and grabbed a towel from the chair, the one he had gotten for you, the one you barely used.

Then you got on top of him, he stared at you as you put the towel under his neck

“Lift up a little” you said, he glared at you but he didn't have the energy to argue so he obliged.

You began drying his hair slowly like you were handling something fragile rather than a man who looked like he could break doors down with his shoulder. The towel moved in gentle circles, soaking up the water, your fingers slipping through the strands as you worked. He watched you for a moment, eyes half lidded, exhaustion finally starting to catch up with him.

“You were just looking for an excuse to rub your towel all over me..didn't you?” he muttered “Psycho”

You snorted softly, unfazed, it was starting to sound like a pet name rather than an insult

“You came to bed dripping like a stray dog”

“I told you to sleep”

“I can't sleep on a wet mattress” you argued before carrying on. It was just an excuse, you just didn't want him to get sick.

Your fingers scratched lightly at his scalp, nails dragging just enough to make his breath hitch. His jaw unclenched. His shoulders sank deeper into the mattress.

“You’re fucking impossible” he murmured, eyes closing already.

You didn’t reply. You just kept doing it and somewhere between one slow breath and the next, his eyes closed. You noticed when his breathing changed.

The tension finally easing out of him, he slept there, head cradled by your towel and your hands, like this was where he had always meant to end up. You stopped once you were sure.

Carefully, you pulled the towel from under his head. Then you lowered yourself down, resting against him, cheek pressed to his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear.

For a moment, you lifted your head and looked at his face in the moonlight. The sharp lines softened by sleep.

And then you thought about kissing him. The thought was brief, instinctive, his lips looked soft, inviting, a peck maybe, it wasn't meant to hurt, it wasn't meant to be anything more than comfort.

But then you remembered that it wouldn't be right, you hated it when men did that to you, you felt disgusted.

And if you did it to him right now, while he slept, it wouldn’t be right because he didn't consent.

So you didn’t.

You settled back down instead, one arm draped over him, your body fitting against his like it always seemed to. Next morning when you woke up he was already up too, you put on one of his shirts and padded to the kitchen.

“I'm going to the city to get another tattoo” he told you as you hopped up on the counter.

“You already have so many,” you said as you swung your legs, the hem of his shirt brushing your thighs. Eric shrugged, busy with the eggs he was making.

“Running out of skin is a problem for future me” You smiled despite yourself and watched him.The kettle clicked off. He poured the water into a mug.

Your gaze drifted, as it often did, to his hands. You thought about the tattoos without meaning to.

The way his skin told stories he never said out loud. Stars, marks, shapes that looked almost ritualistic if you stared too long.

You remembered tracing them once, half asleep, following the lines on his knuckles, the symbols on the back of his hand. He hadn’t stopped you. He hadn't encouraged it either. Just watched, like he was curious what you’d see in them.

“What?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder so you blinked. You couldn't help but wonder if they meant anything.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You asked abruptly, the words came out of nowhere. You had been wanting to do that for a while now.

Eric turned fully toward you then, one hip resting against the counter, eggs forgotten for a moment. He studied your face like he was trying to decide how cruel he wanted to be first thing in the morning.

He shrugged first, then ran his fingers through his hair.

“No”

You didn’t flinch. You just tilted your head a little and smiled like you always did.

“Why?” you asked, out of curiosity.

He exhaled through his nose, fingers drumming once against the countertop.

“Because it complicates things..and I don't want complications”

Attachment. He didn't want attachment.

“Complicate what… breakfast?” you said lightly, gesturing at the pan..That earned you the faintest twitch of a smile, gone almost as soon as it appeared.

“Things like us living under a roof” he said.

“I don’t mind complicated” you said after a moment.

“I do” he replied.

You watched his hands again as he turned back to the stove. Hands that had saved lives once, hands that now killed. Hands that you desperately wanted all over yourself.

“You didn’t say you didn’t want to” you pointed out.

“I don't want to kiss you” he said then, maybe just so you would back off.

“Okay” you said.

He glanced back at you then, searching your face for disappointment, resentment or anything else but he didn't find it. You hopped down from the counter and reached for a mug instead.

“The guy who does my tattoos” he said casually, like it didn’t matter, like he hadn’t thought about it at all before “He owns a unisex salon too”

You looked up from your mug.

“A salon?”

“Yeah. Hair. Piercings. Nails. All of it” he said as he plated the eggs on two plates. That caught your attention. You leaned your hip against the counter again

“And?”

He glanced at you, then away, like eye contact might make him regret it

“You can come if you want. Get your hair done..or your nails..they look rough or whatever” he huffed. The words were deliberately casual, care disguised as nothing like always. You studied him for a beat. His shoulders were relaxed, but his jaw wasn’t.

You stepped closer, peering at the eggs, pretending that was the reason

“Would they… ask questions?”

“No” he said immediately “They mind their business” That answer was too quick. Too certain.

“Do they know about me?” you asked, voice softer now.

He shook his head

“They don’t need to”

Something warm and unfamiliar settled in your chest at that.

That day he drove you with him, while he got his tattoo done, you got a haircut and then your nails. You didn't want him to spend a lot of money on you. While driving back you asked him again. Asked him if you could kiss him now and then he said no again.

After that it just became a thing for you. You started asking him for a kiss the way you asked for mundane things. Not pleading. Not hopeful. Just very casual.

“Can I have a kiss?” you asked one afternoon when he handed you a glass of water, fingers brushing.

“No” he said, without even looking at you. You nodded, took the glass. “Alright”

Another time it was when he was lacing his boots by the door before leaving for the garage.

“Before you go, Can I–” you asked, leaning against the frame.

He didn’t look up before answering, didn't even let you finish your words as if he already knew what you wanted to ask

“No .. Psycho”

“Alright. Drive safe” you smiled.

Sometimes it was when he was half asleep on the couch after coming back from work, arm slung over his eyes, you perched your elbows on the armrest like a cat that didn’t know personal space

“Can I have a kiss?” you asked, soft.

“You’re relentless” he groaned.

“So that’s a no?”

“Definite No” You smiled anyway.

It never turned into an argument. Never into a wound. You didn’t sulk, didn’t push, didn’t try to trick him into it when he was tired or distracted. You asked. He said no. That was the end of it.

“Can I have a kiss?” you asked once while he was stitching up a cut on your finger, you had been extremely careless with the knife.

“No”

“Good,” you said. “I didn’t want to distract you anyway”

He paused then, needle hovering.

“…Why do you keep asking?”

You shrugged, genuinely unbothered by the concern.

“Because sometimes I want to..and you look very cute when you act like you don't want to kiss me” he huffed like a chihuahua before going back to the task on hand.

The night he finally decided to kill Larry, it didn’t feel like a decision at all, it was something he has been looking forward to.

Eric slipped out of bed quietly, the way he always did when he wanted to go unnoticed. The room was dark, your body still warm against the sheets, one arm flung carelessly across his side like you expected him to stay. Your eyes opened anyway.

“Can I have a kiss before you leave?” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

He stilled, one hand already on the edge of the mattress. For a second, just a second, he closed his eyes. The house was silent except for your breathing.

“No..go back to sleep” he said, voice gentler this time. You hummed softly, not offended, not surprised

“Okay”

You didn’t ask where he was going at such hours. You never did.

Two hours later Eric let himself into Larry’s house. He was slower than John. Sloppier. Overconfident in the way men got when they thought their sins were buried deep enough.

The drug this time was different. Not mercy, never that. It took hold fast, crept through muscles and nerves, and stopped just short of the throat. Larry collapsed where he stood, breath coming hard, eyes wild, mouth working uselessly for a moment before sound finally broke through.

“What—what the fuck did you do to me?” Eric crouched in front of him, calm as a surgeon again. He watched the panic bloom and it only brought him a sense of satisfaction.

“You can still talk though can't you? John didn't get that luxury” he said.

Larry swallowed, fear stark in his eyes, he knew about John's disappearance, he just thought that the bastard had run away.

“I..I can’t move..please” his voice choked, making Eric smile.

“Oh I know”

Eric dragged a chair closer and sat down. Close enough now that Larry could see his face clearly. Close enough to understand this wasn’t a robbery. Or a threat. This was punishment.

“You have something I want” Eric continued, voice even “Something you paid a lot for” Larry’s eyes flicked in confusion.

“Man whatever you need just take it..i won't say anything, I'll leave this place and never come back -” he said, Eric couldn't help but snort.

“Leave and then what? You'll find some other woman to extort?” Larry laughed then, but it was from fear.

“Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

Eric’s hand came up, two fingers pressing lightly at the base of Larry’s throat. Not enough to choke. Just enough to remind him how fragile speech really was.

“Don’t do that” Eric said quietly. “You don’t have the luxury..tell me where you keep them. The videos and photos”

Larry’s mouth trembled but he still wasn't ready to give in.

“I..I don't have any video”

Eric's jaw clenched at that, anger surging through his veins.

“Where” Eric asked “-Are you keeping them? And think before you answer this time” Larry’s breath hitched.

“I..I don’t have them on me” he said quickly, words tripping over each other now that he knew lying was dangerous. “Not… not like that”

Eric tilted his head a fraction, daring him to lie again.

“They’re on my laptop” Larry blurted. “Okay? On my fucking laptop, all of them are there, all the girls”

Eric didn’t move. Didn’t react. Only watched. Larry swallowed hard, throat working around Eric’s fingers still hovering there like a promise

“Bottom shelf in the closet”

Eric stood right then.

The chair scraped softly against the floor as he crossed the room, footsteps unhurried. Larry’s voice cracked

“Please..man, you don’t understand, they wanted it, they got paid ..I didn’t hurt them–” Eric paused at the doorway and looked back.

“Oh” he said calmly. “I understand perfectly”

Then he disappeared down the hall, leaving Larry alone with his breath, his paralysis, and the growing certainty that whatever Eric found on that laptop was going to be the last thing he ever owned.

He found the laptop exactly where Larry had said it would be.

He set it on the bed and opened it. There were too many folders. Each one labeled with a woman’s name. His eyes flickered, looking for the familiar name, almost hoping he won't find anything but then he saw your name on one of the folders.

His hand stilled on the trackpad. For a moment, he didn’t open it. Just stared at your name like it might bruise him if he touched it. Like this, this was the line. Everything before this was in his head. It was what you told him. Everything after would be something else entirely, he'd have an image in his head that he won't be able to get rid of.

He clicked anyway.

Thumbnails loaded slowly, one by one, each frame showed your naked form in sexual positions. His expression didn’t change as he opened the first video. His face stayed calm, impassive, the same face he used to have in operating rooms.

You were on the floor in the first one. Not looking at the camera.

Being taken roughly from the behind, Larry's bloated stomach was in the frame but he didn't show his face. Of course he didn't. Eric watched. He didn’t blink and didn't react visibly.

He closed that one and then opened another.

You were on your knees this time. Eyes unfocused, sucking a cock. The camera angle was designed to humiliate, to reduce you to a hole instead of a human being.

He closed it and opened another. It progressively got worse. Now there were marks on your body, bruises, black and blue on your ribs and neck. The way you had stopped flinching as much because flinching didn’t help anymore.

In one of them, Larry’s voice was clear.

“Look here and smile” he said, you were on your knees so you looked up at the camera and gave a faint smile.

There was a sound then, sharp, sudden. He had slapped you. The camera shook with the force. You gasped, breath catching, eyes shining with tears you didn’t wipe away.

“Let's try that again now shall we?” he repeated, amused now.

And you did.

A broken but wide smile graced your lips. Tears slipping down anyway. The kind of smile that was just to survive the moment. Eric’s fingers dug into his own fist.

Then another video started. Larry leaned into the frame, mocking, casual, like he was bored and looking for entertainment.

“You want a kiss stupid bitch?” he asked, voice mocking as if he was talking to an animal. You nodded immediately. Too quickly this time. Like you had learned the cost of hesitation.

“Use your words..beg for a kiss whore” he said. There was a pause. Just a second too long. Then your voice slipped out, small, careful, innocent in a way that made his heart clench.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Something inside him broke just then. Not loudly. Not all at once but indefinitely. Larry wasn't impressed so you repeated yourself.

“Can I have a kiss please?”

Your voice echoed from the speakers again. Larry then laughed before spitting on your face.

“Do you think you deserve that?” he asked so you shook your head. You just took it, didn't even flinch, like you’d learned that reacting only made it worse.

Eric didn’t watch past that. He couldn’t. How could he? The girl that was sleeping safely in his bed at the moment was the girl in these videos. She was being hurt every night and nobody helped her, nobody rescued her. Not one of these men looked at her pleading eyes and offered to help her.

And that question? That exact question. You asked him that now.

Casually. Softly. Sometimes smiling, sometimes distracted, sometimes like you were asking for water or the time. No fear in your eyes. No calculation. No flinch waiting to happen.

Can I have a kiss?

The difference was, it wasn't because you had to, you didn't ask because you were trying to survive but just because you wanted one.

And these men..John, Larry and others like them, they had taken that from you once. They had turned something gentle into a tool. Eric swallowed, throat tight. Despite all that you had been through, you wanted to be touched, to be kissed, not because you were looking for sex but because you felt safe around him. Safe enough to ask him that question and not get humiliated for it.

The laptop closed with a soft click this time. Final. Deliberate. Eric picked it up, fingers steady, and walked back down the hall. Larry heard him before he saw him. The sound of footsteps made his breath stutter.

Eric stopped in front of him. Larry tried to speak. His mouth opened. Nothing came out but a broken sound.

Eric crouched again, close enough now that Larry could see his eyes.

“You know she lives her days and nights now like she has never been hurt in her life?” Eric said as he opened the screen again “And you don’t deserve to exist in the same world as her” He reached for the chair again, not to sit this time, but to drag it closer to the outlet so he could plug the laptop.

“You’re going to tell me” he said, almost conversationally “How many copies you made. All the websites where you put them and the names of everyone else you sell them to” He glanced down at Larry one last time “And after I'm done cleaning up the filth” he added softly, “You’re going to learn what it feels like to beg for your life… and then dying anyway”

Larry tried to scream. He did. He hoped someone would help him, someone would come for his rescue but nobody came.

******

That early morning around 4am when Eric finally returned to the cottage, the light was on inside.

You stood in the kitchen, barefoot, wrapped in one of his shirts, a kettle steaming on the stove. Sleep had clearly never come to you after he had left. You turned to look as the door shut behind him. Your eyes found him.

The trench coat. The smear of blood along his jaw, across his knuckles. You didn't flinch though, not even for a moment. You set the mug down slowly and walked toward him, each step steady. When you reached him, you looked up, studying his face, not the blood, not the coat, but him. As if you were checking whether he was still there beneath it all, if the man you adored was still here after whatever path he had walked at night.

Eric’s breath left him in a quiet, broken exhale. That girl in those videos, that hurt, broken little bird, she was right here. She was safe. She was not bruised, she wasn't raped and she wasn't being humiliated anymore.

Before you could speak, his hands came on you, one sliding up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, curling at the nape of your neck. Not rough but not careful either.

It was needy.

You didn’t pull away, in fact you stepped closer, fingers brushing through over his cheeks, over the dried blood on his skin and then his soft lips.

You were about to open your mouth, you were about to ask that stupid question again. But then you didn't need to. Not tonight. Before you could take another breath again he leaned down and gave you what you have been craving since that night he had picked you up.

He kissed you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

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“I know” you sat down then on the floor in front of him and proceeded to unlace his boots. He flinched, jerking his leg back and out of your reach.

You reached for him again, fingers worked at the laces of his battered boots. The leather was worn, creased where his foot bent, scuffed at the toes.

“What are you doing?” he said, voice flat. “I don't want you to serve me like I'm your master” you tilted your head as he said that.

“I know that, I used to have one, he was nothing like you” you repeated softly.

That made him look down at you. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t teasing. There was no defiance in your eyes this time, no reckless push. Just your presence at his feet.

“You’re doing it again” he muttered.

“Doing what?”

“Getting under my skin”

You tugged the lace free, then the other. The boot slid off with a dull thump against the floor. You set it aside, then reached for the other one.

“You act like that’s a bad thing” you said.

“It is” he replied immediately.

You glanced up at him, your hands stilling on the second boot.

“Why?” you asked but he didn’t answer right away.

“Because” he said finally, quieter now “I don't let people get too close to me, if I wanted that I'd not be living here”

There it was. Not the whole truth, but a shard of it. You nodded once, accepting it without argument. Then you finished unlacing the second boot and eased it off, setting it neatly beside the first.

“You don't have to worry, I might be a psycho but if you want me to leave you'll have to make me feel like you want me to leave, you can't act all broody and then take care of me like I belong here” you folded your knees up as you spoke, arms wrapping around yourself. He wanted to scowl at your words, act like it didn't bother him but somewhere deep down in his cold broken heart, it did clench.

“You don't belong here, I'm doing you a favour” you smiled as he said that.

“And how many women have you blessed with your favours before?” You chuckled “Because I don't see anyone else here, unless you're keeping them in the shed”

Irritation flashed across his features, stark and visible.

“Well usually women are smarter than this.. and don't walk alone late at night, asking to get murdered” You didn’t flinch at that. If anything, your smile widened just a fraction, sharp around the edges.

You shifted on the floor, leaning back just enough.

“You're not wrong” you went on. “Funny thing is the one time I decided to be completely reckless was also when I found someone who refuses to hurt me” His jaw flexed at that.

“So what?” he muttered, “You think being a reckless idiot is better because you got lucky once?”

“No it's not. But it did make me find you”

Silence dropped again, heavier this time.

“You didn’t save me because I was being stupid” you added, quieter now. “You did it because you just couldn't leave someone behind”

That was the part he hated. You could feel it. The way his body tensed, like he wanted to stand up, pace, put distance between himself and the truth you kept dragging into the light.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about” he said.

“Maybe not” you conceded “But I know this, people who do things just as favors don’t buy toothbrushes. Or clothes or let someone stay in their house for free, they do it because they have a heart and you have one”

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

“You’re not special” he said, almost like a warning. You tilted your head back just enough to look up at him, smiling.

“I never said I was”

You stood and walked back toward the kitchen to put dinner on the table, he stayed on the couch, staring at the space you had just occupied, irritation slowly giving way to something far more dangerous.

Something that felt like attachment.

And he despised it. He didn't want to get attached again, not to a woman, especially not someone as broken and helpless as you. Because you fuled that violence inside of him that he wanted to keep at bay. He heard the stories of what you had to survive, the abuse that was inflicted upon you and then he couldn't stop thinking about killing again, killing everyone who ever took part in your destruction.

He stayed there long hearing the sounds of pots clinking, the low hiss of something simmering, domestic noises that didn’t belong in his world.

That was the problem. You didn't even know who he used to be once.

He looked at his hands then, steady as a rock. People put him on a pedestal for it once but he was born with them. He had spent, stopping hearts from ceasing. To start them again when they dared to fail. A cardiac surgeon, people once took his name with blind trust, with pride. But that man was gone, replaced by someone who didn't pick up a scalpel to save lives but to take instead.

You moved around the kitchen like you belonged there. Like you weren’t a temporary problem he had picked up on the side of the road one night. Like you weren’t becoming an increasing risk to him.

The smell of food reached him, and it pissed him off more than anything you’d said. He pushed up from the couch abruptly. You glanced over as he undressed himself to his underwear and headed for the bathroom. You didn't push him further even though a part of you wanted to barge in and watch him shower.

You had done that once, he was in a better mood that day so he let you watch. Let you watch the way he stood under the warm water, palms resting on the wall in front of him as if the weight of his past and present was heavy on his shoulders, muscles tight and strained..tout with need, and you wanted so badly to go down on your knees and put him out of his misery but he didn't let you.

You snapped back to the present as you heard the groan. The water masked the sounds but not the low, broken groan that slipped from his throat, raw, frustrated, torn out of him before he could stop it.

You froze where you stood in the kitchen, fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. Your heartbeat kicked hard, fast, like it was trying to escape your chest, the sound of his cock slamming his own fist became apparent.

You swallowed, heat crawling up your spine, a mix of want and something close to sadness. You wondered when was the last time he had fucked someone, really touched them, not just out of need but out of connection. You wondered if he even remembered what that felt like anymore.

The water kept running just like your thoughts.

Inside the bathroom, he braced himself against the tile, breath coming uneven. Your presence in the house pressed in on him from all sides. The way you had knelt at his feet just now. All open and begging him all the time with those lustful eyes to just take you, ruin you.

And he had thought about it, alot, and that's what terrified him. Because he didn't want to be just another man to break you like that.

Later that night, he didn't come to the bedroom for a long time, he was in his shed and he has warned you to not come, to not follow him. He had locked the doors from outside and he only did that when he didn't want you to come, to be around him.

You were in his bed, sleeping naked as usual, his scent engulfing you from all sides but you missed the warmth of his body next to you. You turned on your front, hugging the pillow, hoping it would bring some relief but it didn't. A moment later you heard the front door closing, then he stepped into the room, you heard the sounds of clothes being discarded, you didn't move, didn't turn to look, you pretended to stay asleep.

But as the mattress dipped from his weight, your body twitched helplessly. His fingers once ran over the long narrow scar on the side of your hip..it has been bothering him for a long time..

“How did you get this?” He asked as he laid on his back. You wanted to keep pretending to sleep but you failed miserably.

“I did it” you answered immediately.

Well he wasn't surprised but he still wanted to know why.

“Was it for attention?” He asked so you scooted closer to him, so close that your breasts were touching his chest now.

“The opposite of it” you murmured softly “I needed a break. From John, his friends and associates and whosoever he pimped me out to” you paused as he stilled for a moment “Figured this would keep them away for a while.. and it did. For a while”

For a long moment he didn’t speak. His chest rose and fell under your cheek, slow and measured, like he was forcing his body to obey him

“How old were you then?” he asked finally.

You shrugged slightly, the movement brushing you closer to him “Twenty five..old enough to know better, but weak enough to not do anything about it” you said.

Silence stretched between you again. His hand lifted, hovered for a second, then rested lightly at your back, not claiming, not pulling, just there, so careful like he was afraid even comfort might bruise you.

“You don’t ever do that again” he said quietly. You smiled faintly, though he couldn’t see it

“I don't need to”

That night you woke up to him shivering and sweating, you had enough nightmares in your life to know what kind of trauma was deep enough to make you shiver like this in your sleep.

You didn't startle him, didn't wake him up either, you just caressed his sweaty forehead until he had calmed and opened his eyes to look at you. For a moment he just laid there, staring at you as if still trying to come to terms with his reality but then he pushed you away from him.

He sat up with his back to you, dragging a hand through his hair, breathing hard now, uneven, like the dream had followed him into waking.

“Don’t” he said hoarsely as if he sensed you were about to reach for him. You stayed where you were, palms flat against the mattress.

“I wasn’t trying to wake you” you said softly “You were having a nightmare”

His shoulders tensed at that. For a second you thought he might snap back at you, put the walls up again.

“Yeah” he said. “I get that sometimes”

The room was dim, just the faint spill of moonlight coming through the raggy curtains. After a few minutes he laid back down, his breathing even now. He didn't make an attempt to come close to you but then his hand slid across the sheet so you grabbed onto his pinky like you usually did. He didn’t pull his hand away.

His pinky stayed hooked with your fingers, the smallest point of contact, but it felt deliberate, like a compromise he was offering himself as much as you. His breathing slowed further, each rise and fall steadier than the last. You knew he wouldn't tell you even if you asked so you decided to stay quiet instead, not wanting to step on a sore nerve.

********

Next morning he awoke early, you were still sleeping, mumbling something in your sleep, then making noises that he could only describe as something a cat would make. After showering as he stepped out of the bathroom, he saw your bag under the couch, the same bag you had on you when he picked you up that night. He didn't want to snoop but he was curious, and he needed to find some information about that abusive ex of yours.

Just the first name wasn't enough.

Once he finds that guy, he can take care of the rest of them. He looked into the bedroom once to make sure you were asleep, then he bent down to pull the bag from under the couch. He slid the bag out slowly, the fabric rasping against the floor sounding far too loud in the quiet apartment.

He crouched there for a moment longer than necessary, then he unzipped the bag..

A knife laid wrapped in an old cloth at the bottom, short blade, the metal eaten through with rust, dark stains clinging stubbornly along the edge. Dried blood splattered on it and it didn't seem recent. His jaw tightened as he unwrapped it fully, careful, experienced enough to know how to hold it without cutting himself. He just hoped the blood wasn't yours.

“Jesus” he muttered under his breath.

Then there was the jacket. The same one you’d been wearing when he found you that night, too big for you, sleeves frayed. He lifted it, heavier than fabric should be. He checked the pocket hurriedly and didn't find anything.

Next came the wallet. Men’s wallet. Worn leather, stretched, years of use. There was cash inside, not loose change but bills folded carefully. That alone made his skin crawl. People didn’t carry money like this unless they planned to disappear or run away, and you were running away.

He slipped the wallet back where it was and reached for the jacket again, fingers moving through the pockets with purpose now. That’s when he found the card.

An identity card. John Davis.

The photo made something ugly spark behind his ribs. The man staring back at him was thick necked and bloated, eyes small and mean even in a neutral expression, mouth pulled into a half smirk like he’d never learned shame. He looked older than the age listed, the kind of man whose cruelty showed in his face.

Ugly inside and outside.

Eric stared at the card for a long moment. So this was him. The man who destroyed you further instead of protecting you. He exhaled slowly through his nose and slid the card back into the pocket exactly where he had found it.

He thought he was done.

The bag was already half zipped when he noticed the small hidden zipper on the bottom. He opened it up and they were filled with photographs.

Old ones. Soft at the edges, corners rounded from being handled too often. He froze when he saw a child's face. It was you, he didn't have to guess, your eyes gave it away.

You were a child, maybe six or seven in the first one. Crooked smile, missing a tooth. Your eyes were bright in a way that made his chest tighten, because that light was so unmistakably you and yet nothing like the woman he had taken home that night.

You looked Happy in these photos.

There were more. You on someone’s shoulders at a fair, cotton candy smeared at the corner of your mouth. It was probably your father. Then there was you sitting on a swing. In one, you were between your parents, your mother’s arm wrapped around you, your father crouched beside you, smiling for the camera like he had nowhere else he’d rather be.

Eric stared at them longer than he meant to.

He hadn’t expected this. Weapons and money made sense. Blood made a kind of brutal sense. But this? This was proof. Not of what you’d survived but of who you had been before anyone taught you to run, to carry knives in your bag.

His throat tightened.

Carefully, he gathered the photos and slid them back into the hidden pocket. His hand lingered there a second longer than necessary.

That smile on that girl's face haunting him, but then he also knew how someone can go from that to who you were now. He had been there too once.

Someone had taken that joy from you. That sweet girl. That carefree life. That safety you didn't have to second guess. His jaw clenched, a slow heat spreading through his chest.

Whoever had touched you after that, whoever had made you learn to survive like this hadn’t just hurt you. They had desecrated something precious. He closed the bag and pushed it back under the couch, deeper this time, like he was tucking a secret back where it belonged.

When he stood, he didn’t look angry. He looked resolved, not that there were any doubts in his head to begin with. And when he glanced once more toward the bedroom toward you, curled in your sleep, mumbling softly like a cat dreaming his expression softened just enough to promise one thing.

That girl in those photographs hadn’t vanished. She had just been scared away, she had been hurt beyond belief and yet she was still here, breathing, existing, fighting. And he would make sure no one ever took anything from you again, not without your consent.

He has gotten rid of one person who harmed you, now he had the name of another, he knew how that toad looked, he just had to find an address.

Later that evening when he came back from work, he came back with groceries so you stood next to him while he took them out of the trunk, you noticed that there was a box of new empty jars in the back corner.

“What are those for?” You asked him so he glared at you.

“Pickles..mind your own business..” he grumbled so you rolled your eyes and decided to not tease the chihuahua. You looked back once while carrying the groceries inside and watched him leaving towards the shed with that box.

*****

A few days passed, Eric had been on a mission, trying to find this ex of yours and he finally had a lead. A bar called Aberforth that he usually frequented. He didn't go inside though, he waited, he didn't want to be seen with this guy.

He stayed across the street, half hidden by the shadow of a closed store, cigarette untouched between his fingers. John came out at last.

He was stumbling a little, shoulders loose with alcohol, jacket half zipped, already scrolling on his phone like he was bored of the world. Eric didn’t move until John turned the corner and then began following, keeping his distance far enough to not look suspicious. John’s place was exactly what he expected, a bad neighbourhood, one light flickering over the entrance like it was about to give up. John fumbled with his keys, cursed, and finally disappeared inside.

Eric nodded to himself before he went back to bring his car, he'd need that. When he returned, he crossed the street and knocked.

“What?” John snapped, already irritated. Eric leaned back slightly, hands visible, posture casual.

“Hey..sorry to bother you at such hours. Larry said I should talk to you”

That did it, John’s eyes narrowed at the mention of larry.

“Larry’s a fucking idiot” he said flatly. “And I don’t do business for him anymore”

Business? That's what it was for them. Ruining lives was just business.

“I know” Eric said quickly “I heard. That’s why I came directly. Look..I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important” John studied him more closely now.

“What’s so important?” he asked.

Eric hesitated, then lowered his voice.

“Heard about that girl. One that… does things. I saw the videos.” He swallowed, like the words tasted wrong on his mouth, he hated saying them “I’ve got money. And I really need...” he exhaled sharply “to fuck that girl..i can't Stop thinking about her”

John scoffed as he heard that.

“You picked the wrong night fella” he was going to close the door but Eric pressed his palms over to stop him.

“I’ll pay double..please”

That earned him a longer look. John stepped back, just enough to open the door wider.

“You a cop?” Eric snorted softly at that

“Do I look like one?” he said, pointed towards his tattoos. John glanced down the hall, then back at Eric “Larry doesn’t get shit from this”

“My money is all yours man” Eric raised his hands up.

After a moment, John stepped aside. “Get in”

The door shut behind them. Inside, the place was cramped and smelled like alcohol and smoke. John leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“Girl you’re talking about?” he said. “That bitch Y/N? She ran away” Eric’s jaw tightened but he smiled.

“Yeah?” he said mildly. “That’s a shame”

“Yeah that ungrateful bitch also stole my money and my favourite jacket. I hope the bitch is getting raped somewhere” he cursed, he was fuming with anger and Eric had to control his “Don’t feel bad though” John went on, dismissive. “Got someone else now. Just as good, in fact younger, that one had gotten stale and old”

Eric’s fingers curled once at his side.

“Where is she? The new girl” he asked. John jerked his head down the hall. “Back room” Eric followed his gaze. The door was closed. Locked. A heavy padlock looped through the handle.

“Show me the money first” John said firmly. Eric reached into his trench coat and pulled out a thick bundle of cash. John’s eyes lit up. Greed always made people sloppy.

John turned to count the money and that was when Eric stepped forward. The syringe was already in his hand. John barely felt the prick before his body betrayed him.

“What the fu-” His legs buckled mid word. Eric caught him, easing him down so he didn’t crack his skull on the floor, he wouldn't let him die such an easy death. John’s eyes went wild as he tried to move. Tried to scream. Nothing worked. His chest hitched uselessly.

Eric knelt beside him, calm as ever.

“Succinylcholine” he said quietly “Works fast, paralytic, perfect for rapists because they should learn what it's like to lose control over your own body” he stood up then. “I do have like thirty minutes though so I can't chit chat, after all I have to find the rest of your buddies..especially Larry” he mumbled casually as he looked around, John's eyes widened in fear. Eric crouched again, balancing on the balls of his feet while John laid frozen. He took John’s phone from his jacket pocket, thumb brushing the screen until it lit up.

“No lock” Eric murmured, almost amused. “Figures”

He scrolled slowly, deliberately, letting the silence stretch. John’s eyes followed every movement of his thumb, darting faster when Eric opened messages, then contacts. Names. Numbers. Information.

“She’s safe now by the way” he said finally “She's being fed properly, she sleeps without looking over her shoulders, and nobody is touching her unless she wants it. Nobody calling her names, well except me at times” he chuckled. John's eyes moved again, sharp and frantic, shaking side to side like he was trying to argue.

Eric glanced down at him then, finally meeting his gaze as if he already knew what the fucker was trying to say.

“No” he said “Don’t start that” he tilted his head “No. She didn’t want it” he continued, voice level, almost bored. “She never did. Wanting to survive isn’t consent. Smiling so you don’t get hit isn’t consent” John’s eyes flicked rapidly, blinking hard, insistently as if to say that you wanted it, that you stayed, that you knew what you were doing, the same old excuses Eric often heard in these moments.

He held the phone up where John could see the screen “Larry is here” he read aloud. Eric then took out his phone to save the information before standing up.

“Thirty minutes” he repeated thoughtfully “Plenty of time I guess”

He looked once more toward the locked door down the hall, then back at John, whose eyes were now swimming with terror.

“Stay right there” Eric smiled “I’ll be back”

By the time Eric was done, he had freed that woman from the room, offering her the money so she could get away, but he didn't let her see him though and she didn't care as long as she was getting away. She didn't even flinch as she stepped over John's paralysed body before storming out of the house.

And then Eric followed his ritual. He tied John up carefully, then dragged him to his car, shoving him in the trunk. Then he grabbed his kit and returned to the house, making the place spotless so nobody would ever find a trace of him.

He drove deeper into the woods, the road narrowed until the headlights stopped catching anything but trees When he stopped and opened the trunk, John was still alive. Still aware. Eyes wet and body still paralysed. Eric didn’t speak to him anymore. Words were for people who still mattered, he just grabbed the collar of his jacket and dragged him into the woods, his body dangling on the ground behind him.

He then worked the way surgeons do, clean and precise. The scalpel shining in the moonlight. A small cut made on an artery just enough to make him bleed slowly.

Eric then sat with him, the effect of the drug was wearing off slowly but he couldn't do anything about it now. He placed his palm flat against John’s chest, right over the heart, feeling it hammer uselessly against bone, he listened to the fading beat, so did the forest around him.

Another monster drifting away from this world, no woman would have to fear him again.

The heartbeat stuttered, then slowed and then stopped completely. Eric closed his eyes for just a moment, enjoying the stillness of that dead heart under his palm.

His ritual didn't complete though, not yet, but once it did Eric drove away without looking back, a smile on his face, proud of doing what the world never bothered to do for you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Taglist

“He might kill you before you get onto that”

You didn't think so.

He didn’t wait once the car stopped outside the cottage. As soon as he stepped out of the car he hauled you straight into the cottage, shoes still on, door banging shut behind you. No yelling. No raised voice. That was the part that made it feel serious.

“Bathroom now” he said.

You stumbled a little as he steered you in, flipping on the light with his free hand. The place smelled faintly of soap. He shut the door behind you and finally let go, turning to face you like he was about to give a lecture to a stubborn five year old.

He pointed at the sink then.

“See this?” he said, reaching down and lifting one toothbrush. Green. Still new. Still not used even once “Green toothbrush. I bought it for you last week”

Then he picked up the other. Black. Worn. Familiar. His.

“Black. Mine”

You crossed your arms immediately, chin lifting up.

“I might not have graduated high school but I know colors” you said, making him scoffed.

“Apparently not” he said flatly. “Because you keep using mine”

“I like yours” he groaned, placing his fingers on his forehead.

“That’s not the point”

You leaned back against the counter, glaring up at him, defiant as hell. You were wearing his underwear, his shirt on your back, using his towel, his scent practically clinging to you. Sharing things felt… intimate. Like proof that you were here, like you were part of a shared life.

And also because you were absolutely obsessed with him. Frothing at the mouth whenever he was in your vicinity.

“You don't need to do this ..be your own fucking person” he said. Your jaw tightened.

“I’m not a kid okay” you snapped.

“I know” he replied immediately. No hesitation. “That’s why I’m explaining instead of yelling”

That shut you up.

He gestured again, slower this time. “Green. Yours. Black. Mine. Same with towels. Same with razors or my underwear for fucks sake..use the ones I got for you” You hated that your throat burned at the concern wrapped so tightly in control. He thought you were trying to erase yourself here? No you were just obsessed.

You uncrossed your arms slowly, eyes flicking to the sink, to the stupid green toothbrush waiting there like it had been trying to belong.

“Fine” you muttered begrudgingly

He exhaled, tension bleeding out of his shoulders just a fraction.

“Good”

“You’re weird” you said as he turned to step out of the bathroom.

His mouth twitched despite himself.

“Says the psycho that sniffs my towels right after I'm done using it”

You rolled your eyes at the comment, then glared at the green toothbrush like it was your sworn enemy. Then you redirected all that energy into showering and of course you used his towel. One change at a time.

As you stepped out as naked as the day you were born he was on the couch putting on his boots to leave for the garage. His eyes roamed over your figure momentarily, those bruises had healed, leaving behind the scars he couldn't heal no matter how much he wanted to. He wondered how many horrifying stories you had left to tell yet.

And He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear them after what had happened last time.

You stood in front of him, crossed arms, wearing just his underwear now..

“What?” He asked as he looked up.

“Take me to the garage, I get bored here” you whined.

“And what exactly will you do there?” He asked, shaking his head.

“Sit. Watch you. Annoy you. Moral support” You shrugged, entirely unapologetic. He snorted, bending to lace his boots.

“That’s not a job”

“It absolutely is” you said, padding closer on bare feet.

He paused, fingers stilling on the laces, then glanced up at you again. Slower this time.

“Fine..get dressed”

You grinned before running to the bedroom and grabbed one of his shirts, sleeves swallowing your hands.

“Shoes” he added, already reaching for the door.

He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loose near the gearstick, city traffic slowly replacing trees and empty roads. You sat sideways in the passenger seat, knees tucked up, his shirt still too big on you, watching the way his jaw tightened the closer you got.

“Trying to get killed? Put the seat belt on” he asked, eyes fixed ahead.

Well you have been trying to do that for a while now but he didn't need to know that.

“Your face is prettier to look at” you said nonchalantly, he turned his head to look at you, already scowling. Chihuahua. You couldn't help but smile at that.

Five minutes later he pulled over and killed the engine. You stepped out and immediately felt it. The way all of their heads turned. Bunch of guys, oiled up and dirty looking.

They weren’t subtle about it either. Conversations paused. One guy actually froze mid laugh. You stayed close to his side without thinking, fingers brushing his wrist, not quite holding on but close enough.

He clocked it instantly.

“Hey” he said, voice steady as ever, nodding at a couple of men as you walked in “This is my cousin. Distant. She’s staying with me for a bit, couldn't leave her”

You blinked, then caught on fast, offering a lazy little wave.

Cousin huh?

A few of them relaxed. A few didn’t. One particular guy near the tool bench raised an eyebrow like he didn’t buy it for a second. He kept staring at you as if he knew you.

“Didn’t know you had family” he asked Eric.

“Yeah” he replied flatly. “You don’t know a lot of things”

That shut it down.

He guided you past the main floor toward the back, his hand briefly pressing at your lower back, not possessive, not gentle. Protective.

“You sit” he said, pointing at an old chair near his workspace. “Don’t touch anything”

“Okay” you said with a smile.

As he turned back to his work, you watched his colleagues steal glances at you, curious, suspicious, some openly wary. Especially that one guy who kept staring at you. There was a client wanting to see Eric so he left you on your own for a moment. You got up then and began looking around.

“You lost honey?” The voice came from too close behind you.

You turned and found the guy from earlier standing there, the one who had been staring. He had grease on his hands and a smile that didn’t quite land, eyes moving over you from head to toe in the manner that made your skin crawl.

“I’m fine” you said shortly, already angling your body away from him. He didn’t move back though.

“So Eric huh” he said, casually “You don’t look like his family” You gave a thin smile.

“We’re distant cousins if you didn't hear”

“Yeahhhh” he said, dragging the word out “I bet” You went to step past him and he shifted, blocking you just enough to give you the familiar scare.

“I know you..y/n right?” he said suddenly. Your stomach dropped at the mention of the name. Eric hadn't really introduced you by name to any of them.

“How do you know my name?” you asked, a frown visible on your face.

He squinted, head tilting.

“Took me a minute. You look different. Hair is longer” His eyes lit with recognition that made your skin crawl.

Everything went very, very still. The noise of the garage dulled, like someone had shoved cotton in your ears.

“I don't know what you're talking about” you said, even though you knew exactly what he was talking about. He smiled wider, encouraged by your nervousness.

“You know well” Your fingers curled into fists at your sides before you even realized they were shaking.

“I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you said, but your voice had gone shaky. He leaned in a fraction.

“Nah. I remember you now. Larry had your pictures and videos. He showed me” His eyes flicked over you again, slower this time. “You look real different without clothes” Your breath hitched as he licked his lips.

Larry’s face flashed in your head, beer breath, greasy smile, hands where they didn’t belong because John said so.

You didn’t even hear or see Eric come back. You only felt it, the sudden pressure at your side, the unmistakable presence of him stepping in close.

“What's going on Nate?” he asked calmly. The guy straightened instantly, hands lifting in mock surrender

“Just talking bro”

Eric’s gaze dropped to you for half a second. Just long enough to clock your face. The color was gone. Your jaw locked. The way you weren’t breathing right. Then he looked back at the guy. Nate smiled before turning around to leave.

He placed a hand at your lower back again and guided you away without waiting for permission. You didn’t say a word. You just sat down where he’d put you, hands folded in your lap like if you kept them still enough, your eyes won't betray you. You should have been used to this, and you were, but this past week with Eric had probably softened you, made you feel so safe that for a moment you had forgotten how it felt to be looked at like a piece of meat.

Your eyes stayed on the floor but before Eric could talk to you, someone shouted from the other end of the shop.

“Eric—hey man, we need you”

A guy had caught his forearm on a jagged edge of metal. Blood was already running down to his wrist. Eric swore under his breath and jogged over without hesitation.

“Sit down” he ordered the guy. Calm. Controlled. Like he had done this a hundred times before.

You watched from a distance as he cleaned the wound, wrapped it, and checked circulation. He looked efficient, confident and professional in a way that didn’t match his oil stained hands and busted knuckles.

It was the same feeling you had gotten when he patched you up.

You hugged yourself tighter, watching him talk the guy through breathing, through the sting, through the fear. You wondered briefly, stupidly how many people he’d had to patch up before to get like that. He even gave the guy a tetanus shot with ease, didn't have to spare a second to find the nerve.

The drive back home passed in silence. Not the tense kind from earlier, this one was careful. Like he was waiting for you to speak and refusing to push. When the cottage finally came into view, he cut the engine but didn’t get out right away.

He stared at the windshield for a long moment, then turned to you.

“What did he say to you? That asshole Nate” he asked quietly. Your fingers twisted together in your lap.

“It doesn't matter” Eric’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed level.

“I'm asking a question, answer that”

You swallowed. Your throat burned with embarrassment.

“My ex.. the guy I told you about” you paused as if saying his name bothered you “John.. I loved him, I think I did. He was really sweet to me, he offered me a place to stay, he was nice to me.. at times” He didn’t interrupt even though he was already fuming, he knew how predators worked their way.

“He used to… bring people over, important people, people he wanted to suck up to” You stared at your hands because you couldn’t look at him. “He’d offer me to them, for money or other benefits”

You said, voice no longer shivering as the memories came back from those long nights. The first time he asked for that you had said no, you had cried, you had begged him to not do this, you told him that you loved him, and then he had beaten you to coercion.

“There was this one guy, Larry. Nate knew him. Larry took pictures and videos of me..he'd pay John a lot for them” You squeezed your eyes shut “So he let him. Encouraged it”

The car became very silent. Eric didn’t move. Didn’t swear. Didn’t explode. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled to the point of danger.

“He showed them to other people?”

You nodded once.

“I don't know how many people he had shown them to or If I'm on millions of porn websites, I never dared to check”

Eric leaned forward, knuckles straining on the wheel, breathing through his nose. You could see the restraint in him, the effort it took to not let his anger out. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then he finally straightened, rolling his shoulders like he was forcing himself back into his body. When he turned to you, his expression wasn’t angry the way you’d expected. It was controlled like he had been shoving a lid on the violence brewing inside of him.

“Look at me” he said. Just firm enough that you knew he wouldn’t repeat himself. You hesitated, then lifted your eyes. The anger was there in those green irises. God, it was there. But it wasn’t pointed at you. It never once touched you.

“That wasn’t you choosing anything,” he said quietly. “That was someone selling you, extorting you”

Your chest tightened at the words.

“You don’t get to carry shame for that or make yourself look smaller for what some degenerate did to you” he continued, voice steady but low. “I don’t care how many times it happened. I don’t care what anyone thinks they saw in those photos. That was done to you against your will”

Your breath stuttered, something sharp breaking loose in your throat.

“Was it against my will if I didn’t fight it?” you whispered. “I just… let it happen. I thought if I made it easier, it would be over faster” His jaw clenched.

“That was you trying to survive” he said immediately. “It wasn't consent” The words hit harder than you expected. You swallowed, blinking fast.

For a second, he looked like he might reach for you and then he stopped himself, like he was checking in without asking.

“Doing things you don't want to do just to survive isn't consent. It’s instinct. And instinct kept you alive from those fuckers”

Your shoulders trembled despite your best effort to hold it together.

“I should’ve ran way earlier than I did” you whispered as you looked at him. He knew this man sought you because he could smell the abuse on you, you were broken and scarred, that's what they latched onto.

“It's not easy, it never is” he stepped out of the vehicle and opened the passenger door for you so you got out.

“You're making me soft” you whispered, almost inaudibly.

“You're not soft and I don't want you to be soft either, but you're safe here, nobody is going to touch you ever again” your heart fluttered for a moment.

John had said those words to you once as well but he had shown you the very next day that he didn't mean them. Eric on the other hand, he meant them, he hadn't touched you even once, it was you crossing boundaries all the time and yet he had never crossed that line.

You didn't know what was wrong with him, something really was, because normal people don't go around murdering people, but at this point you didn't really care. If he was killing people like your uncle then you didn't feel an ounce of fear when you stood in front of him. You didn't feel scared when you lived with him or when you slept in his bed at night.

In fact with him you were the safest.

**********

Later that night, the cottage was quiet in that rural way, no traffic, no voices, just the wind moving through trees and the crickets chirping. Eric was in the bathroom taking a leak when the door opened. You walked in like you owned the place.

Wearing the oversized shirt, his of course, hand reaching for the toothbrush.

He glanced at you, brow furrowing, his cock still between his fingers, stream faltering because of your presence. “Jesus—can you not?” he said, this was extreme even for you he thought.

You squeezed toothpaste onto the brush.

“I need to brush, chicken is stuck in my teeth” he breathed in deeply at the unfazed response.

“I’m pissing..can you not see that?”

“So?” You turned the tap on and started brushing, eyes on your reflection, but you couldn't help and take a glance.

God he was a big guy everywhere wasn't he?

He sighed, long and tired, staring straight ahead before resuming, the sound echoing in the small bathroom, muttering under his breath about boundaries and what not.

“You enjoy doing this” he muttered as he ripped the toilet paper and walked towards the sink to run it under the water before wiping his dick. He was way too hygienic for someone living off grid.

You leaned against the counter, deliberately close, his shoulder touching your head.

“I enjoy being close to you”

He stared at you before throwing the used paper in the trash can, then he flushed and stepped back to the sink, washing his hands while you kept brushing. The mirror caught both of you, his broad frame next to yours, you tucked into his space like you belonged there.

“You know” he said finally, voice low, “most people would find this extremely uncomfortable and not to say creepy”

So was murdering people you thought.

You spat into the sink, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, then looked up at him.

“Most people scare me” He met your gaze in the mirror as you said that.

“And I don’t?” he asked, placing his palms flat over the edge. You shook your head once

“Not even a little.”

Silence stretched. The good kind. The kind that didn’t demand anything. He sighed and grabbed the towel to dry his hands, then paused when you reached for it, pressing it to your mouth with a little grin.

“See you in bed” you mumbled before turning to leave.

Later that night you got into his bed and undressed, he wasn't even fazed by it anymore. In fact he expected it. You shuffled closer, close enough that your knee brushed his thigh beneath the covers. He didn’t flinch anymore, didn’t move away. Just adjusted the blanket so it covered you properly, a quiet gesture that felt more intimate than anything else.

“You really don’t scare me Eric” you repeated softly like it mattered. His jaw tightened, not with anger this time but something he didn't want to acknowledge yet.

“You should be careful who you say that to..you don't know a thing about me”

“I do” you said, eyes closing. “That’s why I’m saying it to you”

For a long time, nothing happened. No hands wandering. No lines crossed. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest beside you, the heat of him solid and real. Eventually, you felt him shift until his arm rested along the pillow above your head, not touching, but close enough that you could tuck yourself into the space if you wanted to.

And you did.

His breath stuttered once, then evened out again. One careful hand came to rest at your back, not holding, just there, like an anchor.

There was plenty wrong with him, he knew that but whatever darkness lived under his skin he knew one thing with brutal clarity–You felt safe with him. And that was something he didn't want to ruin for someone like you.

Also he had to find this John guy without your help this time. He didn't want you to get suspicious. That's what he thought, not knowing that you already knew way more than you should.

********

The next morning when he left you waited. Not long, just long enough for the sound of the car to fade completely. Curiosity wasn’t new to you. Survival has trained it in you.

The shed was the first thing you wanted to explore. You rattled it once, then again. It was bolted shut and had no way of getting inside.

Your stomach tightened, not fear exactly but you wanted to know what he was hiding inside.

As you came back to the cottage, the search didn't stop. You didn’t tear through drawers. You didn’t panic search so he'd know you were snooping. You followed your instinct.

The cupboard near the hall stuck a little when you opened it as if it hasn't been opened in a while. Inside it there was a plain cardboard box.

“Please be something ”

You murmured as you sat on the floor with it and lifted the lid. There was some paper work neatly stacked. Too neatly. Documents, folders, old forms yellowed at the edges.

Newspaper clippings.

You flipped through them slowly, heart thudding as you realised it was him in those clippings. Not tabloid trash but reputable publications. National ones.

Young Genius mind. Boy earns MD just shy of 17.

Your brows furrowed in confusion but then you found a bunch of photographs. He looked unrecognizable in a way that made your breath catch.

But it was him, the eyes gave it away, he was clean shaven, full head of dark hair falling into his eyes, no tattoos, not a single one you were used to seeing now.

And he was smiling. Not the sharp, guarded curve you knew but a full smile. You were surprised, the man in those photos looked like a different person altogether, not someone you had known in the past few days.

In one of the pictures , there was a woman beside him with wild, curly hair pulled back, her arm slung around his waist like she belonged there. They were both in matching scrubs.

Your gaze dropped, scanning details like your brain was trying to reject what it saw. The stethoscope around his neck. The hospital corridor behind them. The ID badge clipped to his pocket. You swallowed thickly as you found the badge at the bottom of the box, old and the plastic rough at the edges now.

The words stared back at you like you were in a dream.

Dr. Eric Draven

Cardiac Surgeon.

Your chest tightened so sharply you had to sit back on your heels. Whatever you were looking for when you began this search certainly tamed in comparison to this. A Doctor? A heart surgeon at that?

And then it made sense, how good he was at fixing people. Why was he so good at fixing people.

“How many lives did you save?” you whispered, barely finding your voice.

You closed the box slowly, carefully, like it might shatter if you didn’t respect what he was hiding here. You placed it back where you had found it, wanting to forget what you had seen but you couldn't. How could you?

What drove a man as gifted as him with such a bright future, turn into this? You thought about it all day, you couldn't stop. Something must have happened to him. Something he couldn't fix, something he couldn't heal.

Something awful enough that it made the man who had sworn to save lives resort to taking them instead.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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“You don't know when to shut up, do you?” he asked as he turned around and leaned against the counter, arms crossing together. You smiled again while shaking your head.

“I think you're confusing me for someone good, I'm not a good man” he said it like it was something that would change the way you were acting around him.

“That's okay, I'm not a good woman either”

Later that night you crawled into his bedroom again, naked as yesterday. He didn't say a word this time because it was futile. You crawled next to him and then began running fingers all over his chest and then his stomach. His abs flexed at the touch.

“Do you workout? Your muscles are so hard” you murmured, scooting closer under his arm, his musk filling your senses. God you were completely obsessed with his natural scent.

“Yeah” quick and short. That was his answer. As your fingers lowered down to the waistband he glared at you again.

But you didn't stop, in fact you got up and kissed down from the sternum to the defined line between his stomach, then your tongue licked a long stripe between the hollow space, that's when he grabbed your shoulders and flipped you over.

He then placed your arms over your head so you won't touch him but your thighs curled around his waist.

“Why don't you listen to me?”

“Listen to what??” You asked, feigning innocence.

“Stop touching me like that, I'm not going to be some gentle lover” he said it like a warning, making you chuckle.

“Who said I was looking for one??”

He looked into your eyes to see if you were bullshitting him.

“You're clingy as fuck you know that?”

“Only with you” you smiled, raising your head up to kiss him but he didn't let you.

“You have known me for a day you psycho”

He said it like an insult but you could feel it, the bulge growing between his legs, now rubbing slightly over your naked flesh.

You just laughed at the tantrum.

“And what?” his nose flared at the words.

“Do you often get attached this quickly?”

“No..you're the first. You complain and yet you let me stay, it's hot” he got off you the moment you said that. Then he shifted away, turning away from you, sleeping on his front with his arms over his head, trying hard to ignore your naked, wanting body next to him.

You didn't let him rest in peace though, you scooted closer, thigh curling over his legs, arm circling around his waist, clinging to him like a cat all night long.

The next morning you woke up, he was in the room, towel hung loosely around his waist, hair wet from the shower.

“Morning psycho” he said as he looked at you.

“Morning handsome” you sat up, blanket slipping down. You then laid back down to stretch as provocatively as you could.

“I'm going wood hunting..can you cook?”

He asked so you nodded.

“Do it..earn your keep, you want to be useful? Keep those hands occupied” he said as he put on a t-shirt, much to your disappointment.

“What kind of mediaeval arrangement is this?” He huffed, already reaching for his boots.

“You are living here. You sleep in my bed. You cling to me like a damn gibbon. It's only fair” You pushed yourself up, padding over to him without shame, stopping just short of invading his space this time.

Fair enough. You had heard those words before but you had to pay in sexual favours instead of being asked to do something so harmless and domestic.

“What do you want me to cook?” you asked.

He paused, glancing down at you like he was trying to decide whether you were a bad idea he had already committed to or one he could still avoid.

“Whatever doesn’t burn the place down” he said “There’s meat in the fridge. Use it”

“So bossy, it's so hot” you teased

He didn't entertain the comment, but grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom so you followed him, he hesitated at the door and turned once.

“Don’t open the back shed.. don't go there ..if I find you sneaking in there I'll lock you right inside and you won't like it” he emphasized.

“That's supposed to scare me?” You asked softly and he glared at you.

“You want to test me?”

“No”

“Good”

The door slammed shut behind him, you showered quickly, brushed your teeth and then went to the kitchen.

Eric grabbed his tools from the trunk, then his gaze fell upon the blood trail leading up to the porch. Your blood.

He wondered how long had you walked like that last night to find his place?

And then something hit him out of nowhere, a feeling, it was probably his instincts but he decided to follow the bloody trail and your footsteps.

He was only a few meters into the woods when the trail ended and so did your footsteps. His jaw clenched at the implication of it. If that wasn't enough he also found a sharp object near the end of the trail.

“Fucking lunatic”

He wanted to storm right back inside and give you a piece of his mind but decided against it. An hour later when he had enough woods to last for a week he returned back to the cottage.

The door slammed as he got inside. You were at the stove, sleeves rolled, knife moving steadily against the board.

He stood there for a second, watching you. Then he crossed the kitchen in three long strides and grabbed your jaw to make you look at him.

Not hard enough to bruise but not gentle either. Fingers firm along your cheek, thumb pressing under your chin, forcing your face up so you had no choice but to look at him.

“What?” you asked but there was no fear in your voice. His eyes searched yours, sharp and furious, like he was looking for guilt. For shame. For anything that would make this simpler.

“You lied to me last night” he said.

You didn’t answer, you smiled instead and that just made the anger worse.

“I followed the blood and your footsteps” he continued, voice low and controlled. “It didn’t go anywhere. A few steps into the woods. Then nothing..“You didn’t get lost at all did you?” he huffed “You were right here, you waited for me to leave and then you hurt yourself on purpose”

Your expression didn’t change. That was what finally broke his control.

“Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?” he snapped, his other hand came to rest around your throat, tightening just a fraction.

You swallowed, throat moving against his thumb, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. You just stared at him steady, distant, like this wasn’t the first time someone had grabbed you like this. Something flickered across his face then.

“Say something you psycho” he muttered.

“I wanted you to come after me” you said quietly “But you didn't, you left for work instead. I didn’t think you’d let me in if I wasn't being the damsel in distress”

The words landed heavier than any excuse. He released your face like it burned him, stepping back a pace, running a hand through his hair hard enough to tug.

“Don’t ever do that again” he said.

You nodded once as if that was enough, as if this wasn't a big deal.

“I’m serious” he added, pointing at you, eyes dark. “You don’t hurt yourself to get my attention. You want something, you ask. You don’t make yourself bleed for it” You met his gaze, not blinking.

“Okay.”

“Don't okay me. You pull this crap again and I'll throw you out of here without a thought” he warned you.

“Okay I won't do it again..can I finish cooking now?” You asked, tone nonchalant as ever.

“No. You sit at the table, think about what you did and don't say a word to me” you sighed deeply but followed his command.

After lunch he went outside to chop the woods in smaller pieces. You sat down on the porch with a cup of tea to watch him.

You watched him in silence. The axe rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each strike clean, controlled like he was working something out of his system rather than just splitting wood.

You curled your feet beneath you on the porch, careful of your heels this time, and just sat there. Quiet for once.

It was strange. The quiet, and how clear the thoughts were in your head. And there was no fear, no fear of being raped, no fear of being taken, no fear of being used.

You hadn’t realized how rare that was until now. Since your mother died, safety had always been transactional in your life. Men in your life demanding you to be grateful, be quiet, be pretty because that's all you were good for.

But this place? It was different. This man was different. You wrapped your fingers tighter around the mug.

He had grabbed you. He had yelled. He had charged in a way that should have threatened you. And yet you felt safe. Because for the first time someone was angry with you because you had hurt yourself and not angry at you for being hurt.

Safest doesn’t always mean soft, you thought. He wasn't soft but he was safe, he could have fucked you, hurt you, taken you, you were at his complete mercy here and yet he was restraining himself.

He didn't really talk to you all day after that, didn't scowl like the angry chihuahua either, he just stared at you in the evening when it was time to change your dressing so without a snarky remark you sat your butt down and let him change. His movements were almost professional as if he had done this a lot, it was something you hadn't noticed last night when you were distracted by the pain and his touch.

Later that night you crawled into the bedroom again, all naked, he was sleeping with his arm over his eyes, didn't even bother looking up this time as if he was already getting used to this ritual of yours.

You didn't say a word before climbing in, but you didn't stop there, you then climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. That's when he moved his arm and glared at you.

“What do you want?” He asked so you shook your head “So you're just going to sit there? I'm not a horse” he spoke again, mild irritation in his voice but you kept staring at him. He groaned, sinking his head into the pillow.

“Tell me about those bruises” he asked suddenly.

“Which one?”

His jaw clenched as you answered so casually, infuriating as always.

“Cigarette burns” he said, his fingertips ran over the scars on the inside of your thighs, your breath hitched slightly at the contact.

“These two were done by my uncle when he fucked me the second time” His fingers paused where they rested against your inner thigh.

“How old were you then?” he asked.

“Fourteen” you said when he didn’t move, like you were answering a question about the weather instead. You shifted your weight slightly, still straddling him, still looking down at him like this was nothing. Like the memory hasn’t lodged itself in your bones or given you nightmares..

“And this one?” he asked. His voice was calm. That was the terrifying part. It was too steady.

“One of the guys I dated, he liked how the other ones looked, wanted to try it himself” you added. “Guess I have a pattern..” You smiled when you said it. His jaw tightened at your smile.

Not the teasing one you used on him. This one was different, too practiced, too sharp around the edges, like a reflex you had learned to cope, like minimising the abuse you went through was how you had survived so far.

“A pattern” he repeated quietly. You shrugged lightly, carelessly.

“Guess so”

That was when his hand stilled completely. You looked at him then, really looked, and the expression on his face made something twist in your chest. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t aroused. He wasn’t judging you. He looked… wrecked.

“You don’t joke about shit like that” he said finally. His voice was still calm, but there was something bubbling under it, there was anger sure.

But also that familiar urge to kill.

“You don’t know me enough to say that” you scoffed, pressing the button he didn't want pressed.

“I know enough” he said. His eyes didn’t leave yours “Enough to know that men hurting you taught you to expect it. That’s not a pattern. That’s conditioning”

The word landed heavy. You shifted, instinctively pulling back a little, but his hand stayed where it was, steady but not gripping, giving you room to move if you wanted to.

“You were a child hurt by someone meant to protect you” he continued. “And then you found men who smelled that on you. That’s not you choosing wrong. That’s predators doing what they do” Your throat tightened before you could stop it.

You hated that feeling. The pressure behind your eyes. The heat in your chest. You opened your mouth to deflect, to make another joke, to climb off him, to turn this back into something physical and sexual and easy but then he spoke again.

“What was his name?”

He didn’t shove you off him as he asked the question. He didn’t snap. He just flipped you beneath him in one controlled motion, bracing his weight on his forearms so you weren’t pinned but held there. Caged without being trapped as if he was trying to protect you.

“What’s his name?” he asked again when you didn't answer. You didn't shy away from telling him this time.

“Where does he live now? Do you know that?” you nodded as he questioned you, not thinking much about how the questions didn't really make sense. Why did he want to know anyway? You told him, you couldn't forget where he lived even if you tried, that house was a hell for you once.

When he didn't respond, you laughed. A soft, careless sound.

“He’s probably jacking off in his room right now” you said lightly “Drunk out of his mind. That’s where he usually ended up”

You laughed again, like you hadn’t just told him something so heartbreaking.

That laugh did it. His face changed, not in anger but like he had been punched somewhere deep he didn’t know he was still vulnerable. Then without a word he got off you to lay on his side. He didn't push you away, didn't ask you to leave, but he didn't say a word either.

You couldn't help but grab his hand in yours, fingers lacing with his as you fell asleep like that. It wasn't until you were deep in sleep when he got out of your clutches.

He had told himself he was done with this, that he had killed enough, that he had avenged enough. Cops were on the tail of this case so he had stepped back for a minute.

But some hunger doesn't go away once you get a taste of them, they just go dormant.

He stepped inside the spare car he had for this routine and then drove into the city, the black trench coat cold on his skin. This wasn’t new territory for him.

He had started years ago, long before you. Long before this cottage. Long before sleep came without nightmares. Rapists. Men who liked hurting things smaller than them. Murderers who walked free because the system was rigged and bought. He never touched anyone who hadn’t earned it. That was the rule. Never anyone who was innocent.

And he had a good reign, he had done his part to rid this world of some of the filth because God wouldn't, because law wouldn't. He had stopped for a while when bodies started to circulate, when his victims began to turn up in the form of carcasses. He paused but then you climbed into his life, his bed, with that painful smile and bruised body. And now he had the urge again.

He stood across the street now, watching a flickering light through a stained rotting window. A hideous shape moving inside. Unbothered. Alive, breathing freely after he had tainted you, after he had ruined a little girl. His jaw tightened.

This is why I exist. This is what I’m for. That's what he told himself.

He didn't feel an ounce of guilt when he sliced his throat with that familiar precision, watching him die slowly and agonizingly like a sacrificial lamb. This man had hurt a child and then walked away freely to live long enough. Eric rolled his shoulders once beneath the coat, wiping the blood from the scalpel over the sleeve.

“Why? Why me?” That man cried on the floor, the last of the life leaving him, his pulse faltering. Eric didn't answer, he waited for a moment, then he said your name, just that and he watched the recognition flickering in his eyes, he knew what he had done to you.

*****

The next morning when you woke up, he wasn't there. His side of the bed was cold as if he hadn't slept there at all. Why didn't you wake up? You often woke up in the middle of the night, more than once, always on guard, waiting for something to hit. You were surprised you hadn't awakened even once throughout the night.

You eventually got up, pulled on one of his shirts again, and went about the morning like you belonged there. Like this was normal. Eggs cracked into a pan. You were setting a plate on the table when you heard it. A sound from behind the cottage.

Metal scraping, door creaking. Something being moved with care, not clumsiness. You froze, heart giving a single, sharp kick.

The shed.

You remembered his warning. The way his voice had gone low when he’d said not to go near it. You didn’t move toward it, didn't even step closer to the window. You just waited, breath shallow, spatula still in your hand.

A minute later he walked in from the main door. He wasn't wearing a shirt or pants, just his briefs, his body glistening with sweat and a pinch of red on his arm. His face was unreadable, shut down in a way you hadn’t seen before. Not angry. Not distant. Just… closed off.

“Morning” you said carefully. He didn’t answer. You turned toward him fully then, eyes searching his face. “Where did you go?”

Still nothing.

He brushed past without a word, heading straight for the bathroom. You heard the door being shut, then the shower turning on a moment later, water hitting tile hard and relentless. Ten minutes later he came out and glared at you.

“Stop using my toothbrush..I'll get you one today. What else do you need?” He asked, you crossed your arms before you began listing things.

You weren't going to stop using his toothbrush though, or his towel, no matter how disgusting he thought it was.

A week later he finally decided to take you to the city with him because you were bored out of your mind. While in the supermarket as you were grabbing much needed supplies for your upcoming period your gaze flicked upon the tv over the aisle.

You only glanced at it but your eyes got stuck on the news report.

MISSING MAN — LOCAL — LAST SEEN IN A BAR NEAR HIS HOUSE

The picture sharpened as you took a step closer. Your stomach dropped instantly. It was him. Your uncle. Older than you remembered. Thinner but the same face you had spent years trying not to picture.

Your fingers went numb around the box of pads in your hand.

“Eric” you said quietly. He was a few feet away, crouched slightly as he compared two boxes of cereal like it mattered. Fruit Loops in one hand. Something generic in the other. You didn’t look away from the screen. You couldn't.

“That man” you said “On the TV.”

He glanced over his shoulder to look at the screen.

“What about him?” He shrugged.

“That’s my uncle” you turned to him as you spoke. He straightened, put the cereal into the cart without ceremony, then shrugged again like you had told him the weather was bad.

“Huh” he said. “Good riddance, I guess”

Something cold slid down your spine, he wasn't surprised, you thought he'd have some reaction after what you had told him, after what he had done to you. You stared at him. Really looked at his face this time, calm, unbothered, bored actually.

When he didn't say anything you turned back to the screen.

VICTIM HAD PRIOR ALLEGATIONS MADE BY HIS OWN NIECE, NO ARREST WAS EVER MADE, HAD LINKS WITH THE EX CHIEF OF POLICE

Then the anchor said it, almost casually.

“Authorities believe this disappearance may be tied to the ongoing investigation into the individual the media has begun referring to as The Killer Crow…a symbol of death—”

Eric nudged the cart forward once he had picked up the box of cereal he wanted.

“You coming or what?” he asked. You followed him on autopilot, mind racing.

Your uncle had been missing since the night you had told Eric about him.You remembered how dishelved he had looked the next morning, the faint blood on his arm, the secretive shed. Then it suddenly hit you out of nowhere. And now you knew it wasn't just a coincidence. Now you were sure Eric Draven was the killer on the loose.

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Purple and yellow ones on your ribs. Faded fingerprints along your arms, some older than others. A long, thin mark near your hip that looked like it had been made with something narrow and deliberate.

And then his stomach dropped when he saw those small, circular scars along your thigh. Round, precise, and made deliberately.

Cigarette burns.

Eric straightened slowly, like moving too fast might wake something ugly inside him. His jaw clenched until it ached. He stared at the marks longer than he should have. Old. New. Healed badly. Healed alone.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered under his breath.

You shifted slightly, curling in on yourself, instinctively trying to make yourself smaller even in sleep just like you had done last night. Your hand twitched, fingers brushing over his chest like you were reaching for something familiar.

Eric didn’t pull away.

Instead, he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over you properly this time, covering every mark. His movements were gentler now.

He then stood there for a long moment, staring down at you. This wasn’t recklessness. This wasn’t flirtation or need or some fucked up attempt at control. This was someone who had learned somewhere along the way that her body wasn’t really worth protecting.

Eric ran a hand through his hair, pacing once, then stopping, like the walls of this small cottage were closing in on him. His chest felt tight.

“Who did this to you?” he murmured, not really expecting an answer.

You slept like that for a long time, around 12 in the afternoon you woke up, for a moment you panicked but then the last night came rushing in your memory.

You looked around, he was in the kitchen so you sat up to stare at him, the blanket slipping down your chest, you didn't bother covering up your breasts.

His eyes met with you once and jaw clenched, you didn't react, you just smiled as you got up and went to the bathroom.

The bathroom was minimal, just like the rest of his cottage, there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, and a soap on the shelf.

You turned on the faucet without hesitation. Cold water rushed into the sink, loud in the quiet cottage. You picked up his toothbrush like it already belonged to you, black handle, worn bristles, still damp from the use.

There was something intimate about that alone. Proof that he had been here, awake, moving around while you slept on his couch all naked and yet he didn't touch you. You didn’t flinch as you grabbed the paste and began brushing your teeth, eyes locked on your reflection.

The mirror showed the bruises you hadn’t bothered to acknowledge in years. They were just part of you now. Background noise. What mattered right now was the faint taste of him, mint and something else, something unmistakably his, lingering on your tongue.

When you were done, you rinsed the brush carefully and set it back exactly where you had found it. Like that's how it was supposed to be.

You reached for the towel next. His towel.

It hung slightly crooked on the hook behind the door, dark black fabric, faintly warm and damp from recent use. You pressed it to your face, breathing in without thinking. Soap. Clean cotton. And underneath it all ..the scent of him, his musk that you had breathed in all night, very masculine and—the scent made something low coil in the pit of your stomach..

You knew it was borderline psychotic how you were obsessing over him but you couldn't help it.

Steam gathered quickly as you turned the shower on, fogging the small bathroom as the water warmed. You grabbed his soap before stepping under the spray and let it hit your shoulders, your back, your bruised skin, like you were trying to wash something off that had sunk far deeper than dirt.

You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, trailing the wet soap down from the valley of your breasts and to your stomach and then between your legs.

You let yourself lean into it, breath hitching once, then again, a moan escaped your chest, you did not bother to quiet it down.

Outside the bathroom, Eric froze.

He had been at the counter, hands braced on either side of the sink, staring at absolutely nothing when the noise registered. The water. Then your voice, low, broken, unmistakably intimate. A fucking moan.

His jaw tightened hard.

“Fuck” he muttered, turning away like the wall might help. It didn’t. The cottage was too small. The door too thin. The sense of you, your presence, your complete lack of boundaries pressed in on him from every direction.

He wasn’t angry. That was the problem.

He was overwhelmed. Dragged somewhere he didn’t want to go, your moans only became louder, it was as if you were being fucked right against the wall. His hands curled into fists as he paced once, then stopped, forcing himself to breathe through it.

He turned the radio on to drown the noise.

“The killer leaves no clues behind, only blood and death in his wake-”

He immediately turned it off.

In the bathroom, you leaned your head against the wall, water streaming down your face, your chest rising and falling unevenly as fingers worked the bundle of nerves. Whatever you were chasing, whatever you were trying to feel, that itch was painful, you needed the release.

A few minutes later you came out, wrapped up in his towel. Just that.

You walked into the kitchen, fingers brushing his arm. He didn’t look at you, not at first.

You hopped up onto the counter with careless ease, the towel slipping just enough to be scandalous. Your knees folded in, bare feet resting against the counter.

“Get down” he said, voice low, controlled and strained at the edges.

You tilted your head, studying him now, that smile painted on your face. There was something curious in your expression, not playful or shy..

“Why?” you asked.

He turned then to face you.

His eyes snapped to you, dark and sharp, jaw tight enough to tremble. The towel, his towel, your bare legs, skin still damp.

“You don’t get to do this” he said, stepping closer before he stopped himself. “You don’t get to crawl into my house and expose yourself just to see what I'll do”

Your smile faltered but just barely. Any other man would have folded by now, that's what you were expecting from him, more so because it was rare that you actually wanted a man to fuck you.

“I’m not doing anything” you said quietly “I’m just… here” you placed your head down on your knees, curling in on yourself.

That was the problem. Eric didn't understand why you had become his problem now. He dragged a hand down his face, breathing through his nose like he was trying not to snap.

“You’re not just here” he said. “You’re running away from someone. Something. And you’re using your body, hoping I would let you stay”

Something flickered behind your eyes then.

“You don’t like being wanted? Or I'm just not good enough for you to fuck?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I don’t like being tested” he shot back.

Silence fell between you, thick and heavy.

“Sit at the table if you want to stay. We talk like people. Not like this”

For a moment, you didn’t move, just watched him, learning where the lines were drawn. You stayed perched on the counter, knees tucked in, towel clutched loosely at your chest like it was an afterthought rather than modesty or the necessity to cover up in front of a man you had known for mere hours.

Then, slowly, you slid off the counter. Your feet hit the floor softly. You adjusted the towel, just enough to keep it in place, and walked to the small wooden table without another word. You pulled out a chair and sat, folding your hands in your lap like a child waiting to be told what came next.

Eric watched every step, you smiled as if you were expecting praise. He leaned back against the counter, arms folding across his chest like he needed the barrier. His eyes stayed on your face this time, not your body, not the towel slipping dangerously low on your curve

He hesitated before asking the question but he needed to know.

“Are you a prostitute?” he asked finally. The word hit the room sharply, honest in the way people only get when they’re already bracing for something worse.

You didn’t even flinch though, didn't look offended as if it wasn't the first time you had been asked that question. You just shrugged slightly, like he had asked if you took sugar in your coffee.

“No” you said simply as you played with the salt and pepper shakers on the table, your movement childlike almost as you jumped them like horses “But I’ve been treated like one. Sometimes” you added.

It wasn't what you said but the way you said it that bothered him, there was no bitterness in your voice, no anger, you admitted it like a fact. Like it had happened often enough that it didn’t deserve emphasis anymore.

Eric’s jaw tightened.

“Treated like one? How?” he asked, feeling stupid now, knowing well he didn't want to hear the answer.

“You know” you said, eyes on the shakers still, playing with it “Like one time, this ex of mine. John, he brought a bunch of his friends and they all took turns on me.. like a prostitute”

Eric went very still. Like a switch had been flipped somewhere behind his eyes. Your words sat there between you, so grotesquely casual he wanted you to say psyche at any moment.

They all took turns.

He didn’t move for a few seconds. Didn’t speak. The pot on the stove was bubbling now, the sound suddenly too loud in the small kitchen.

“You don’t get to say that like it’s nothing” he said finally.

You glanced up at him then, finally registering that something had changed

“It’s just how it was,” you replied, voice still calm “He said I owed him. For staying in his house. For eating his food. His friends thought the same because he could have pulled any other girl and I wasn't being grateful”

Eric’s hands clenched so hard his knuckles went white.

“You didn’t owe him shit” he said sharply.

You blinked at that. Just once. Like the concept hadn’t fully landed.

“That’s not how it felt” you said. “Saying no didn’t really… do anything..it just made it worse” he walked towards you finally, placing his hand down on the table, and then snatching the shakers away from your hands so you looked at him.

“You have been through something like that” he said “and then you walk into my room naked, climb on my counter almost naked and you moan loudly while touching yourself in my shower–” You flinched then, just barely. But he saw it “it makes me feel like you’re waiting for me to become the next man who can treat you just like that” he finished.

“I don’t want that” you said quietly.

He huffed slowly. His expression wasn’t one of anger now but disappointment

“Then stop offering yourself so casually” he said. “Stop daring people to hurt you just so it feels familiar”

You put your fingers on his wrist, caressing the veins that ran from his knuckles to his forearms, he stiffened but didn't pull away..

“I am not daring you to do anything, I just think you're very sexy, like a real man, like the ones you see in movies” Eric went rigid under your touch. Not because it felt bad but because it felt too easy. Too familiar. Like you had learned exactly where to place your fingers to make men forget themselves.

“Don’t” he said quietly. You stilled, fingertips still resting against his wrist, eyes lifting to his face. Up close, you could see it now, the control he had

“I just think you're very hot” you stated as you smiled, fingers trailing up.

“I know what you think you’re doing,” he interrupted, gently but firmly pulling your hand away. He didn’t shove it aside. He placed it back on the table, like returning something fragile to where it belonged “And I know why.”

You leaned against the chair then, legs curling up, a sigh escaping your lips

“Then why are you so mad handsome?”

“I’m not mad,” he said. His voice was tired now “I’m scared of what happens if I don’t stop this” That made you pause and then you smiled.

“You think you’d hurt me or something? Like hit me? Slap me?” you asked, almost curious, eyes glinting. He didn't like that at all.

“No” he said immediately. “But i think you’d let me if I want to”

The words landed between you like a dropped glass. You swallowed. Your shoulders slumped just a little, the performance slipping just a little.

“That’s… kind of the point” you admitted. “If I let it happen, at least it’s my choice” Eric shook his head slowly.

“That’s not a choice. That's just you being so damaged that you don't know how to ask for anything else”

You looked away, jaw tightening.

“I think I'll go then”

Eric stood there after you said it, the words hanging around him like an echo. For a second he considered letting this be the end of it. It would be easier if you were gone.

No more bruises he couldn’t forget. No more stories he didn’t want to picture. No more watching the way you offered yourself like an offering, like damage control. No more feeling responsible for someone who had shown up out of nowhere and crawled straight under his skin. He had enough issues of his own, he didn't need yours too.

You were not his problem. You shouldn’t be his problem, you have survived this far, you'll survive without him.

He straightened, crossing his arms again, maintaining that careful distance he was good at.

“You’re right” he said. “It would be for the best.. I can't be responsible for you anyway”

Your head snapped back to him.

For a moment you just stared, like you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. Then something hot and sharp flashed across your face, hurt turning into anger so fast it almost looked rehearsed.

“Of course” you scoffed, pushing your chair back so hard it scraped against the floor. “Figures”

You stood abruptly, the towel forgotten now as you marched past him toward the bedroom “Btw are you impotent? Is that why you can't fuck someone?”

Eric stayed where he was. He didn’t follow, didn’t argue, didn't respond to the insult which was you just lashing out because you didn't get what you wanted. That felt like the right thing to do at the time.

You dressed angrily, too fast, hands shaking as you pulled on the torn dress from last night, then your jacket. You shoved your feet into your sandals without sitting down, nearly tripping in the process.

“You didn’t even ask where I’d go” you snapped as you stormed back into the main room “Fuck you” you said, voice cracking despite the fury behind it. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you don’t touch what’s offered? You're not”

You yanked the door open, cold air rushing in, and then you were gone, storming down the path, tripping once again as the sole of your sandals finally gave up. Eric didn’t stop you.

He told himself it was the right call. He told himself she was an adult. He told himself this wasn’t his mess to clean up. The door clicked shut behind you, and the cottage fell silent.

An hour later as he stepped out to go to the garage where he was working part-time his chest tightened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered as he saw your broken sandals lying haphazardly on the ground, you didn't take them. Which meant you’d walked barefoot.

Idiot, he thought. You absolute idiot.

By the time he circled back toward the cottage later that night, guilt had settled heavy and sour in his gut.

You were broken, as broken as he was, maybe he should have let you be a little fucked up with him. He looked for you as he drove on the familiar path, hoping he'd see you again but he didn't.

Guilt sat like a rock on his chest when he reached back to the cottage.

And then he saw you.

You were slumped against the door, knees drawn to your chest, head resting against the wood like you’d tried to knock and lost the strength halfway through. Your hair was tangled, your jacket pulled tight around yourself.

Your feet were a mess. Eric swore under his breath at the sight of them.

The soles were red and raw, smeared with dirt and mud. One heel was bleeding, a thin dark line trailing across the porch boards. You looked exhausted in a way that went deeper than physical, like whatever fire you’d stormed out with had burned itself out miles ago.

You didn’t look up when he approached. Maybe you hadn’t heard him. Maybe you just didn’t care anymore. For a long second, he just stood there, keys dangling uselessly from his hand.

This was exactly what he had been afraid of. He crouched in front of you slowly, careful not to startle you. “Hey,” he said quietly. Your eyes lifted at that, unfocused at first, then blinking

“Oh” you murmured. “You are back”

Eric swallowed hard.

“Why didn’t you take your shoes?”

You shrugged weakly, wincing as the movement pulled at your feet.

“I was planning to come back” you said “Then I got lost”

That did it.

He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he looked at you again there was no anger left in his expression, only something heavy and regretful. “Come inside” he said, it wasn't a request.

“I thought you said it’d be better if I left” you mumbled, childlike.

“I was wrong”

He reached out then, not to pull you, not to touch anywhere that could be misunderstood but offered his arm to help you stand up.

“And I’m not letting you bleed on my porch like this.”

For the first time since he had met you, you didn’t smile when you took it. He asked you to sit down on the couch, he went to the bathroom then, filled a bucket with warm water and came back.

“Put your legs inside” he told you firmly so you followed his command. He cleaned your sole from mud and dirt, one of the heels was sliced and bleeding, the other one was just red and there were small cuts from walking barefoot.

You flinched the first time his fingers brushed your skin.

It was instinctive. A sharp little recoil you couldn’t stop, like your body had moved before your mind could catch up. You sucked in a breath, heart stuttering, bracing for something to hit, to hurt, but It never came.

Eric noticed immediately.

“I’m not going to hurt you” he said quietly.

You swallowed. Your throat felt tight, like the words had barb wires on them, like the ones on his back. No one had ever said that to you before. Not really. Men touched because they wanted to. Because they could. Because you owed them something, or they’d decided you did.

You shook your head, just a little.

“I’m okay” you whispered, though your hands were clenched so hard in your lap your nails bit into your palms.

He cleaned before using the disinfectant solution, that stung but you didn't flinch again. You watched him like he might vanish if you blinked too long.

“I should’ve gone after you,” he murmured suddenly. Your head snapped up.

“Well I guess you weren't worried about the killer getting a hold of me anymore” you didn't mean to sound so snarky but it came out like that anyway.

For the first time since you had met him, he looked up at you, right in your eyes and then smiled.

“Don't worry about him, you don't fit his profile” he said as he grabbed the bandage to wrap it around your heel. Soft and gentle.

“How do you know that for sure? It's just a theory yet, that he only goes after bad people, a woman's body was found recently so it could have been me”

Eric didn't respond at first. He had read the news, heard people at the garage speculating about this killer and his motive.

“It won't be you” he finally answered as he was done with the dressing.

“How do you know that?” You asked curiously but he didn't answer.

“Take off your clothes, they stink. You can wear mine” he told you so you smelled yourself and God he was right.

Eric offered you a shirt, so you took it from him.

“It's okay if you're impotent..you're still very sexy” you said to him, fingers brushing over his cheek before you left for the bathroom.

He thought about your question once it was quiet. How did he know that? How did he know that you didn't fit the profile of the killer?

The answer was simple. Because it was him going around murdering people he didn't want alive, the man you had trusted so recklessly was the killer haunting the city.

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Your gaze caught on the tattoos before you could look away. Ink carved into words etched near his temple, a spiderweb stretching behind his ear, something darker crawling down his neck.

His face was all angles. Cheekbones sharp enough to cast shadows. Lips pink, plump and slightly parted, like he was about to speak.

There was something curious in the way he looked at you, not exactly soft, but wary.

And for a second, you got the strange, unsettling sense that he saw everything. He was a man. Men are dangerous, you have had enough lessons. And he looked like trouble too with those tattoos and dark eyes but not in the way you had been used to being troubled.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, not sharp but it was deep “You okay?”

You hesitated, then nodded once. It was a lie, of course.

“My car broke down a mile back” you lied again. He frowned, glancing down the road behind you.

“Back there?” he asked to confirm. He knew every brick of this pathway, he didn't see any broken down car on the way.

“Yeah”

Silence stretched between you, thick and measuring. Then he sighed, one hand drumming carelessly against the steering wheel.

“I can give you a ride” your body went rigid as he said that. You had been offered rides before, you knew what happened on those rides.

“I’m a mechanic..I can take a look at your car also” Your grip on the bag tightened. The zipper bit into your palm.

“I’m fine.. I'll just find a garage or something” you said, too quickly.

Eric tilted his head slightly, studying you. What was your plan here? Were you trying to get killed? He couldn't make sense of this.

“You shouldn’t be walking alone this late” he finally said “Especially with everything that has been going on lately”

You gave a hollow little laugh at that, turning to him. It unnerved him in a way, that never happened, not to him but the way you laughed was so devoid of any emotion, it didn't even sound human.

“You mean the killer?”

“Yeah” he replied, jaw tightening. “That one” You simply shrugged at the concern.

“I don’t fit his profile”

That made him go still.

His eyes lifted to yours, something dark and unreadable flickering there.

“That’s what people like to think” he said quietly. The car stood beside you, engine humming. You looked at the passenger door. At your reflection in the glass, bruised, tired, carrying too much history for one body.

“What is your name handsome?” You suddenly asked, the look on his face was one of surprise. He has been called a lot of things before, but hearing the term from a strange woman he had encountered on a deserted road felt weird even to him.

“Eric” he answered “Eric Draven”

“Y/n” you said, even though he didn't ask. You then opened the passenger door to get inside.

The interior smelled faintly of oil, leather, and cheap cologne. As soon as you shut the door, you pulled your bag into your lap, clutching onto it.

Eric noticed. He didn’t comment though. Instead, he put the car in gear and eased back onto the road, eyes forward, hands steady on the wheel.

“Where do you want me to drop you off?” he asked.

The road curved away from the city lights.

“Take me to your place” you said suddenly. His foot eased off the gas. He glanced at you, slow and careful

“Excuse me?” You nodded, hugging your bag closer to your chest.

“I don’t really have anywhere to go tonight..take me to your home Eric” you answered carelessly. Silence stretched again, heavier this time.

“That’s not a good idea” he said finally “You don’t know me”

You turned to look at him properly now. The shadows cut his face into sharp lines, eyes dark and reflective.

“I know” you said. “But you haven’t tried anything yet when you could’ve easily”

That made his jaw tighten for some reason. You were too nonchalant about the possibility of him attacking you.

“You shouldn’t trust strangers like this, nobody told you that? Especially with that killer on the loose” he murmured so you smiled faintly. That's the thing though, you never really got hurt by strangers, it was always the people you trusted completely.

“You already told me that”

The car slowed as the road narrowed, asphalt giving way to dirt ground, gravel popped under the tires. Eric exhaled through his nose, like he was arguing with himself, trying to decide if this was a good idea but then he couldn't leave some helpless woman alone on the streets.

“…I live off the grid” he said. “Middle of nowhere” he told you, hoping that would be enough for you to change your mind and you'd consider being taken to a motel or something.

“That’s fine, I don't mind” you answered in that frustratingly calm manner.

“There’s no neighbors ..no other people around there”

“Still fine” you said again as you looked at him from head to toe. He was a good looking man, he seemed tall too, you could tell just by the size of his hands. He was well built as well, his shirt was sticking to him like a second skin.

He glanced at you again. Really looked this time. The bruises that weren’t fresh. The way you didn’t flinch at isolation, didn’t ask questions normal women in your situation would ask.

“Why?” he asked quietly “Why not a shelter? A police station? They can help”

Your fingers flexed against the bag. “Cops don’t help me”

That answer sat between you, heavy and loaded. The car kept moving deeper and deeper. He finally sighed deeply and decided to indulge you. What other option did he have here?

“There's a pack of cigarettes in the glove box, if you want one”

He spoke again, you looked like you could use one. You barely hummed before opening the compartment and pulled out the pack, there was a lighter as well so you lit it up. He didn't say anything the rest of the way but you knew he was trying to read you.

The trees then parted just enough to reveal a small clearing and a cottage tucked deep within it. Old wood. Dark as night. Eric pulled to a stop and cut the engine. The silence afterward was absolute.

“This is where I live” he said “still want to go there?” His voice held no humour. He wasn't being funny with that question.

You didn’t move right away. Instead, you looked around, eyes taking in every detail then you nodded.

He stepped out first, the cold night air rushing in when your door opened. Dry leaves crunched under your sandals as you followed him, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the dark tree line out of habit.

You were right. He was tall. Taller than average American men. Atleast 6'3 or More. The cottage door opened with a soft creak.

Inside, it was warm. Not cozy just… lived in. Tools hung neatly along one wall. A couch that looked like it had seen better days. The faint smell of oil, cigarette smoke and old wood clung to the air.

Eric flicked on a lamp.

“You can take the couch” he said, setting his keys down on the table “Bathroom’s there if you want to clean up”

You nodded, setting your bag beside your feet instead of letting go of it entirely. He wondered what you were carrying inside it.

As he moved around the space, you watched him carefully. The way he carried himself, the fact that he never turned his back on you completely because he didn't trust you.

“You really shouldn’t be walking alone like that” he said after a moment as he lit up a cigarette. You let out a tired breath.

“You keep saying that” you said as you smiled that eerie smile, taking a seat on the couch, pulling your legs up, dress riding up in a manner that seemed indecent.

“You should listen. Even if you think you don't fit this killer’s profile. There are other monsters out there” he said, like a cautionary tale.

“I’ve been through worse than this”

You answered calmly, the words made him stop. Slowly, he turned, eyes settling on the bruises on your thighs that you weren't bothering to hide.

“…Someone hurt you” he said. His suspicion was confirmed. He wasn't really asking a question so you didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Eric’s jaw tightened, something dark passing behind his eyes before he masked it again.

“You’re safe here” he said after a moment “For tonight.”

You nodded once, exhaustion finally dragging you down as you got comfortable on the couch, curling into yourself slightly.

Why didn't he want to fuck you? You were so available and you couldn't defend yourself if he tried to do something so why wasn't he doing it?

Later that night he laid in his bed, flabbergasted by the whole situation. The house creaked softly as it became colder outside. He didn't bring people here, he shouldn't have brought you here either but what was he supposed to do? Leave you behind on that dangerous stretch of roads? What were you even doing there all alone?

He snapped out of his thoughts as the bedroom door creaked. Not loudly but just enough to sharpen his senses. Eric’s eyes snapped open.

You stood in the doorway now, framed by darkness and faint moonlight spilling through the window behind him. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming of some exhausted hallucination conjured by too many long nights and bad decisions.

But then you blinked, once, barely. The only thing worse than you standing there was the sight of you being all naked. You weren’t wearing anything. Not a thing. For a moment, his mind refused to see you as something real. You looked like a projection. A figure cut out of moonlight and shadows. Nude yes but stripped of sexuality in a way that made it worse. Like clothes had never occurred to you as an option before wandering into a man's room in the middle of nowhere, a man you didn't really know.

Your hair was wet from the shower, loose around your shoulders, body marked faintly by old bruises that hadn’t quite faded. You didn’t try to cover yourself. You didn’t smile. You didn’t look embarrassed. You just stood there like a mannequin.

“…Hey” he said quietly, pushing himself up on one elbow. His voice was careful, controlled even though he was freaked out. “What do you think you are doing?”

You didn’t answer. Your gaze stayed fixed on him, unblinking, unreadable, he wasn't wearing any shirt, there were tattoos on his body as well, you could tell even in the faint moonlight.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, a little firmer now. Still you didn't respond but chose to step inside instead..The door clicked shut behind you as you stepped closer to the bed.

Eric sat up fully now, tension rolling through him.

“Look you don’t have to—” He stopped himself. “ You don’t even know me for fuck sake” he said, not bothering to be gentle anymore.

You still walked toward the bed, not fazed by his irritation. Bare feet shuffled against the wooden floor. “Stop” he said, not loud, but serious.

You did stop but only when you were close enough that he could see the way your hands trembled not with fear, but with something else. You seemed restless and wound tight. You climbed onto the edge of the mattress, close but not touching.

Eric’s breathing had gone shallow. His eyes searched your face, looking for panic, confusion, regret or literally anything that made sense to him.

“This isn’t normal” he said softly “You don’t do this with strangers” That finally got him a reaction. Your lips parted slightly as you smiled. You looked at him like he had just said something absolutely irrelevant.

“…I couldn’t sleep..I'm not used to such quiet” you murmured at last. Your voice was flat, almost blank “And I didn’t want to be alone or sleep on a cold couch..this is warm..you are warm” you whispered as you touched his chest. He flinched just a little.

The words landed heavier than any confession. Eric didn’t move, didn’t reach for you but couldn't look away either. You looked like a clingy cat that had never learned boundaries.

“Look ..You don’t owe me anything” he said to knock some sense in your head. You tilted your head, studying him.

“I know..” you said.

And despite that you didn't get up, didn't get off his bed, didn't move. The space between you was charged but in an unstable way. Eric closed his eyes for a second, jaw tight, he was restraining himself.

“Lie down” he said finally, voice rough but steady. “Just sleep. That’s all” You watched him for a long moment. Then, without a word, you did, you climbed next to him, too close as if you had known him for years.

You fell asleep, just like that, naked, right next to him, didn't even bother covering yourself up.

Eric couldn't sleep though. You laid on your side beside him, knees drawn in slightly like you were used to making yourself look smaller out of habit. The blanket barely covered you even though he threw it on you. He stared at the ceiling in an attempt to not stare at you.

Every instinct in him was screaming.

Not desire or lust, not exactly. Not the simple, thoughtless want a naked woman often evoked in people. This was something darker. He felt pulled toward the damage surrounding you, he was enticed by whatever seemed wrong with you. Because what kind of girl offers sex in return of safety and a night of shelter, only the absolutely fucked and damaged kind.

He could feel the heat of you through the mattress. The slow, uneven rhythm of your breathing, guarded like you were waiting for something to happen even in sleep. And yet you wanted to sleep in his bed, next to him. You trusted him.

That was the worst part.

You trusted him without knowing him, without protecting yourself. Just… stepped into his space like you didn’t care what he did with you or maybe you actually didn't care what he did with you. Or maybe you wanted him to do it.

It made his jaw tighten until it hurt.

“Don’t” he told himself.

Not because he wanted to be good. He had stopped pretending that word applied to him a long time ago.

You shifted slightly, a soft sound leaving you, not a moan, not a word. Just a breath catching wrong. His body reacted instantly, every nerve lighting up, hand curling into the sheet to keep it from reaching for you. Christ.

He turned his head just enough to look at you.

Your face was relaxed now, lashes resting against your cheeks. Vulnerable in a way you hadn’t been when awake, you almost seemed normal like this, no mask. No weird strangeness. Just some girl exhausted past the point of self preservation.

“What happened to you?” he murmured, barely louder than the cottage settling around them. After a few minutes he got up and decided to sleep on the couch instead to get a lick of sleep but it was as if you sensed it.

He opened his eyes to you climbing on top of him, your naked warm body meshed with his own as you held onto him. Eric froze.

Your weight settled against him like you belonged there, warm, solid, undeniably real. Your arms wrapped around his torso, fingers curling around him as if you were afraid he might disappear if you let go.

“Jesus” he breathed, more exhaling than words.

He didn’t touch you. Not at first. He kept his hands to himself because what the fuck were you doing?

“Told you” you murmured again, face pressed against his chest now. Your voice was thick with sleep, stripped of that strange blankness from earlier “I can’t sleep alone”

Eric’s hands hovered uselessly at his sides, fingers flexing like they didn’t trust themselves. Every instinct in him screamed wrong. Wrong situation, wrong woman, wrong boundaries, wrong everything. And yet you were already here, breathing against him, fitting into the hollow of his body like he was your lover.

“You don’t even know me woman” he said again, softer this time, like repeating it might finally make it true.

You shifted slightly, seeking warmth, your forehead tucking under his chin. Your breath hitched once, then evened out again, like your body had already decided the argument was over.

“I know..why does it matter? You will have sex with a stranger but this is not okay?” you murmured.

The explanation made it worse.

Eric swallowed hard. He stared up at the ceiling, jaw tight, pulse loud in his ears. He felt hyperaware of every point where you touched him, every place he refused to respond the way his body wanted to.

Slowly he lifted one arm and placed it over you, not pulling you closer, just holding you.

“Sleep” he said quietly, more command than comfort “We will speak about this tomorrow”

You didn’t answer him. You didn't feel the need to answer. Minutes passed. Maybe longer. Your breathing evened out as you fell asleep again but Eric stayed awake.

He listened to the night outside, the wind howling the trees. He felt the rise and fall of your back under his palm. The faint shaking that still hadn’t left you, even in your sleep.

He had seen people like you before. You were damaged, ruined by the kind of men that never should have touched you. So damaged that you had walked straight into danger because danger felt familiar to you.

His fingers curled slightly against your skin before he could stop himself.

“Fucking hell” he whispered.

It was not just desire. It was recognition. And that scared him more than anything else ever had. Because whatever was broken inside you..It echoed something broken in him too.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

“Okay you got me, but hey I just wanted you dumb nuts to get back together.. okay? Sue me” He said to you as he sipped on his margarita, you could tell he was drunk already.

“Well we are not back together.. together..yet” you said to him so he groaned in response.

“Yeah but something has changed and that is enough for me chico” he gave you a smile and you couldn't help but return it.

To be honest, you did feel a hell lot better after that conversation, it was as if you could breathe finally and your heart wasn't breaking under your ribcage anymore every time you tried to take a breath..

“Hey baby..you alright?” Patricia whispered in Eric's ear as he bent down to hug her.

“Yeah..I am..I think” he said to her so she gave him a smile “It's getting late ..do you want to sleep?”

“I have all day and all night to sleep tomorrow, I just want to sit down with you lovely people and just have a good time”

Stella stood up from her chair and walked toward the kitchen “Well then, if it’s a good time we want,” she said, “We’re gonna need more margaritas. Shelly, come help me”

Shelly groaned, but followed her in, muttering something about Stella being a dictator.

You took a seat on the couch, and Eric, after a moment of hesitation sat next to you. You could feel his eyes on you occasionally, and when you finally glanced up at him, he looked away like he’d been caught. It made your stomach flip in a way that felt strangely good.

Chance raised his glass as he looked at you both.

“To reconciliations, second chances, and family” he said, his words were a little slurred.

“You’ve definitely been drinking” Miranda chimed in.

“Not enough to miss the fact that the tension in this room could power a small city” he added, pointing a dramatic finger between you and Eric.

You rolled your eyes as he put you on the spot like that.

“Let it go, Chance.” Eric said to him, his tone was firm.

“No, no, no, I will not let it go. This is what I live for. Real life soap operas. A little heartbreak, tears, sensual dancing, dramatic walkouts..God, you two are delicious”

You couldn't help but face palm as he kept going.

“You’re unbelievable.” Eric shook his head.

“Guilty” Chance responded as he headed to the kitchen.

Eric then got up and made a plate, he took a little bit of everything from the table, then he walked towards you.

“Ummm thanks” you said to him as you grabbed the plate from him. You could feel Patricia's eyes on you both. She wasn't being subtle at all.

“Did you eat?’ you asked him as he sat down so he shook his head.

“Then eat” you said to him as you passed him the fork after taking the bite of that delicious ziki.

“Oh my god this is amazing” you looked at Patrica so she did a little bow down.

“I have been perfecting this dish from 25 years now” You let out a laugh as she said that.

“Uhhh i should get going..i have to be up early tomorrow” Miranda spoke aso Patricia nodded.

“I'll see you for our session tomorrow” she hugged Patricia so Eric got up.

“I'll drop you”

“Oh no please stay and have fun..i brought my car” She said to him so he nodded and sat back down on the couch, not protesting because he didn't actually want to go anywhere at that moment. Once Chance and Shelly left, Patricia said goodnight to you and Eric before she went to her room with Stella.

Leaving you all alone with Eric, all alone.

And you couldn't help but sneak glances at him, he smelled good, he looked good and he had just poured his heart and soul out to you not that long ago, your skin was still buzzing from that synergy.

“So ummm how's uhhh work?” You broke the silence as you took your heels off and got comfortable on the couch. He couldn't help but smile, it was nice, he has missed you alot and he had missed the familiarity and comfort he used to share with you before he ruined it.

“I'm not there..alot..i did get two trainers, they're doing good I guess”

“Broke your no trainers rule huh?”

“I had to”

You shifted slightly to place your back on the couch.

“And how you have been dealing with the..uhh ..you know..”

You asked hesitantly, his smile faltered as he thought about it, he didn't want to think about it, in his mind it wasn't just happening, he wanted her to fight and he didn't want to lose her, not so soon, not when he had just started to give her the life she deserved

“I am ..fine.. I'm not the one suffering” he mumbled softly, his hands were shaking so you put your hand on his, the touch grounded him for a moment.

“You are..just differently. And it's allowed, you are allowed to feel Eric”

He took a deep breath as you said that.

“Enough about me..how are you?” he said so you let go of his hand but then he wrapped his fingers around yours before you would drift away.

“What about me? I'm fine?”

“I know I have been a complete jerk to you, i couldn't even be a friend to you- ”

“Eric we don't have to-”

“No but I have to…it's ..i just need you to know that i know how awful and lonely and hurt i have made you feel since that night-” his voice broke as he turned to you, your eyes teared up as well at the sound of his broken voice “I know i have disappointed you and disrespected our friendship, our bond…our love.. and I hate myself for it and I don't think I'd ever forgive myself for it but when I say that i never stopped loving you or thinking about you, not even for a second..then i just need you to believe me okay.. please just believe me when I say that I have always loved you and I'll always love you”

You looked him in the eye before you placed your hand on his cheek and wiped the tear that rolled down. He was hurting, you knew he was, and as much as he had hurt you with his cruel decisions you didn't want to punish him forever especially during a time like this..

“I believe you Eric..I do..i just need some time..that's it.. I think we both do” he nodded as you said that before he grabbed both of your hands between his own and pressed soft kisses on it.

You wrapped your arms around him to hug him because it wasn't just him that needed it at that moment.

“I love you” you mumbled softly so he pulled away to look at you as if he didn't think he deserved to hear it.

“I love you” he mumbled softly so you smiled.

It was nice to hear it after months.

“Can we talk about the drastic weight loss?” He brought up the conversation you didn't want to have so you sighed and leaned back into the couch.

“Do I look different?’

“You look beautiful y/n..you always do, I'm just worried”

“I'm fine”

“How much do you weigh currently?’ you gulped as he said that.

“105 pounds..i know what you are thinking Eric” he placed his arm around your shoulder so you placed your head down on his chest

“Am I wrong though?” You stared into the distance for a moment, not wanting to admit that he wasn't wrong.

“It just kept me distracted, gave me something to obsess over”

He sighed as you said that, you knew he was going to blame himself for this but this wasn't his fault, people turned to alcohol and drugs to cope, this was how you coped.

“No more okay? From now on you are going to eat proper meals, you're not going to starve yourself and you won't spend three hours in the gym 7 days a week okay?” you chuckled as he said that.

“You're going to be my trainer again?” you smiled as you looked up at him so he nodded.

“If you'd let me”

“Okay”

A small smile curved the corner of his mouth as you agreed nonchalantly.

“How are things with your parents?”

“Same old, still not speaking to my mom” he hummed as you said that.

“Did that asshole ex of yours bother you?”

“He calls sometimes, he saw me at the grocery store last week, saw how skinny I had become and probably got hard at the sight’

His jaw clenched at the words but he didn't react, he allowed it to happen, he was the reason you were so close to destroying yourself. He wanted to tell you how Jake was everything that was wrong in this world, but then he had hurt you more than he did and he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for that.

“Are you tired?” He asked, his voice soft as he trailed his fingers through your hair.

“I have a day off tomorrow” you said as you looked at him so he smiled.

“On a Wednesday?”

“Just figured I'd need it tonight after-” his smile became somber as you didn't finish your words. He knew what you meant, he knew you were going to go back home and cry all night, that's what you'd have done if he hadn't apologised and begged for you to come back to him.

“Stay here tonight..please?” He mumbled softly, making your breath hitch, he didn't want to overstep though. You said you needed time and he was going to give it to you. “Take the guest room, it's yours anyways”

“I can't sleep in this stupid dress-” you chuckled lightly.

“Wear something of mine..come” he stood up and put out his hand for you so you grabbed his fingers and followed him to his room.

His essence enveloped you, you missed his apartment but Eric has been living here for months and this place has become an extension of him. As he reached into his closet you looked around the room, eyes teared up as you found the frame that had you and him right next to his bed, it was taken the night of his competition. Even though he had lost that night, he seemed the happiest he had ever been, the bobblehead was placed right next to it like a shrine.

Sometimes you wished you could have turned back the time somehow, so Patricia never would have gotten the cancer, so he never would have broken your hearts, so you'd not have to worry about losing the woman that mothered you more than your own mother did.

“Y/n” he mumbled as he passed one of his oversized shirts to you, you sniffled once as you took it from him “I'd offer you my pants but you'd drown in it” you chuckled as he said that.

“It's okay i have the shorts on..thank you..” you looked at him as you hugged him again “Goodnight Eric” you said quickly before turning on your heel and leaving the room before you'd break down in tears again.

You stepped quietly into the guest room, after undressing you put on Eric's shirt, it went past your bare thighs. Too quiet. It was too quiet outside but your head was in chaos. As you rested your head on the cold pillow, you pulled the blanket up around your body. Staring at the ceiling you tried to get some sleep but it was futile.

Minutes passed. Maybe an hour.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

The image of that picture frame on his nightstand wouldn’t leave your mind, the way his arm was wrapped around you in it, the way he had looked at you back then like nothing else existed. You remembered that night vividly, you remembered how worried he was when he couldn't get in touch with you. Your throat tightened as you realised that you might have asked for time but deep down you had already forgiven him completely and you realised that no matter what he did, he did it to keep you safe from himself. Stupid, that's what it was but it was him trying to protect you.

Trying to blink back the tears you found yourself getting out of bed. The hall was dimly lit. You passed by Patricia's room and opened it just to watch her breathe for a moment, then you closed it as quietly as you could and made way to Eric's room.

You didn’t knock though, just pushed the door open gently and there he was, shirtless, the blanket tossed haphazardly around his waist, his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. His eyes opened almost immediately, as if some part of him had been waiting too.

“Y/n?” he murmured, voice low and husky from half a sleep. He pushed himself up on his elbows. “You okay baby?”

You didn’t answer. You stepped into the room, closed the door behind you, and began walking toward him slowly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked again softly, watching you like he was afraid you would run away if he would move too quickly.

Still, you said nothing. The only sound in the room was the quiet shift of the floorboards beneath your steps.

“Y/n?”

You reached the edge of the bed, his brows curled a little in confusion. He watched your every movement, his breath catching as you climbed onto the mattress , then onto him, your knees straddling his waist, hands resting on his bare chest.

His skin was warm under your palms. Your breath hitched at the touch.. you had missed him and you needed him more than you needed to breathe right now.

You slowly pushed him back down on the bed and then, without a word, you leaned down and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft, wasn't hesitant. It was everything you’d been holding back for months, longing, anger, grief, love, all tangled up into one desperate, burning kiss. Your mouth crushed against his, and his hands found your thighs instinctively, gripping them like he never wanted to let go again.

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.

His lips were swollen from the kiss, eyes wide with disbelief and heat, but he didn’t say a word, he didn’t dare. You were shaking, he could feel it, and yet you held yourself above him.

“Dont ever try to keep me safe from yourself, I don't need that, I'm capable of making my own decisions, if I feel like you are hurting me I'll tell you, don't decide it for me, and don't fucking break up with me again because even if you try again.. I'll just reject it”

As a drop of tear rolled down your eyes he brought his thumbs to wipe them away before he rose up and kissed you again, then he flipped you underneath him, his movement urgent and heated.

“Tell me to stop” he breathed. “Please. I’ll stop” he whispered between the kisses, he couldn't stop on his own, he was starving and after months he felt something other than pain and misery and the constant fear he had of losing both you and Patricia. After months he felt something hopeful.

You cupped his face, fingertips brushing over his lips.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop”

That was all he needed.

His kisses were like feathers this time, along your collarbone, then your jaw, then the curve of your bosom. He treated you like you were fragile, breakable. Like he still couldn’t believe you were here, letting him touch you like this again..

You felt intoxicated, you couldn't even remember when his fingers had slipped under the waistband. You moaned and wriggled as he slowly moved in and out of you.

“Does it feel like a dream to you too?” You mumbled as you made him look at you, a smile on your face as his movement halted. His answer did make your heart skip a beat.

“No..no it's not. It feels like I am awake now”

And when you slept that night, safely tucked in his arm, your naked body pressed against his, you knew that no matter what happens tomorrow and the inevitable insurmountable pain the future will bring for both of you, you knew you won't let go of him. No matter how lost he was you'd find him, no matter how broken he was, You'd fix him. You'd fix him the way he had fixed you.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You blinked as he continued to speak. Was he talking to you? It took a second too long for your brain to register his presence, for your body to catch up to the sudden flood of emotions crashing inside you. Anger. Confusion. Longing. And something colder beneath it all..self-preservation maybe.

You didn’t turn to him right away, didn’t trust yourself to meet his eyes. Not when he had spent the last four months treating you like you were something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, bitterness was evident in your tone, you couldn't help it.

He didn't even flinch as you said that, he was expecting it, he was expecting something far worse to be fair, like a sharp slap on the cheek that he absolutely deserved..

“i just think you should eat something, I haven't seen you eating since you got here” he mumbled as he leaned against the table, you kept your eyes on the table, not wanting to look at his gorgeous face, even the bags under his eyes didn't make him look any less devastating.

You forced a breath through your nose, blinking hard at the food in front of you to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the timber of his voice. Don’t do this. Don’t let him see you crack.

“I’m fine,” you said nonchalantly “Not hungry”

Eric didn’t move for a long moment. You could feel him watching you, and it made your skin crawl with heat and discomfort. Not because he disgusted you, God, no, you wished he did, like Jake began to disgust you after he hurt you but Eric? He never did, your body still reacted to him like it didn’t get the memo. Like it hadn’t been broken by him.

“You’re not fine” he said finally, so softly it almost didn’t register. “You’ve lost a lot of weight a lot quickly and it doesn't seem healthy”

That concern in his voice finally made your head snap toward him. He was still leaning against the table, arms crossed now, looking at the floor like it might swallow him up. There was no malice in his voice, no arrogance, just quiet concern.

You hated him for using it now. Hated him for pretending to care when he didn't think twice before dumping you like garbage.

“No, that's a good thing.. asshole, I'm no longer fat..that bothers you? Why? Is it because you didn't get to take the credit for it?”

And you snapped. Wrong place, wrong time. But it had been simmering inside you for months. He turned his head as he heard your voice, he had never heard you speak like that to anyone, and he definitely never wanted to be the one you'd speak to in that manner but he also knew that he had it coming, he deserved it.

“That's not what I meant..you know that”

“Actually I don't know that Eric, guess what i don't, i thought I knew you, i thought I knew how you felt but I didn't so basically I don't know anything you see”

Eric opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but then he stopped.

He looked at you like he had the words, but none of them would do you any good now. He was only going to upset you more and that's the last thing he wanted, especially at Patricia's birthday party.

But his silence made you even angrier. Because he always used to have the words. He always knew what to say to calm you down, to make you feel safe, held, seen.

But now? Now he just stood there, watching you crumble. Eric didn't answer you, he let you be and walked away to speak with Patricia.

“Didn't go well?” She asked as she took his hand in hers so he shook his head.

“Well she just called me an asshole so no..i don't think so” he scratched the back of his neck in nervousness. Patricia's brows furrowed but then she shrugged

“Well ..I guess that's fair”

The party had thinned out slowly, people leaving with polite hugs and praying for her good health. Empty wine glasses littered the coffee table, and the last bits of cake sat abandoned on paper plates.

You had retreated to the corner of the living room, arms wrapped loosely around yourself. You’d managed to avoid Eric since that outburst, your heart still thudding unsteadily in your chest. Part of you wanted to leave. The other kept your feet rooted to the floor.

Patricia was sitting in the recliner, wrapped in a shawl, a sleepy but satisfied smile on her face. And then she wheeled towards the old record player in the corner.

“Play something slow and Romatic” she said to herself, her voice soft but steady. “Something beautiful.”

Moments later, the soft piano chords of “Love Takes Time” by Mariah Carey filled the room like a sigh. You froze as the first line floated into the air.

I had it all, but I let it slip away…

Couldn't see I treated you wrong…

Your chest tightened. You could almost feel the air shift as Eric approached you.

He didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, really looked at you, and then extended his hand forward for you. What was he doing? Why?

You hesitated. Everything in you screamed that this was dangerous. But your heart? It had always been a traitor when it came to him.

So as opposed to your better judgement you slipped your hand into his.

He pulled you gently toward him, his other hand resting lightly on your waist as you moved slowly, swaying in a rhythm that felt both familiar and unbearably foreign. You hadn’t touched him in four months, and now you were flush against his chest, his warmth surrounding you like it had never left.

Now I wander around, feeling down and cold

Trying to believe that you're gone

His hand on your waist tightened just a little, like he was trying to ground himself.

Your throat was closing up, your eyes stinging. You let yourself rest your cheek against his chest for a heartbeat, just one, and you felt it—his heart. Still beating wildly. Just like yours.

Love takes time

To heal when you're hurting so much

Couldn't see that I was blind

To let you go

I can't escape the pain inside

The words filled the space around you like they were meant for the two of you. Eric’s palm slowly slid up your back.

You might say that it's over

You might say that you don't care

You might say you don't miss me

You don't need me

His fingers brushing your spine, as the song picked up its pace, so did he, he twirled you around with such passion when you came back to him, your body pressed right against him.

But I know that you do

And I feel that you do, inside

Eric’s grip shifted, suddenly more confident, and in one smooth movement, he spun you gently in a slow circle beneath the soft, dim lighting of Patricia’s living room. The hem of your dress lifted slightly as he lifted you up and twirled you around, and you gasped, despite the anger you felt, a soft, breathless laugh caught in your throat as he put you down on the floor.

Love takes time

To heal when you're hurting so much

Couldn't see that I was so blind

To let you go

He smiled, a sad sort of smile, the kind that knew exactly how badly he had fucked this up. How could he do this to you? He took away your smile, your happiness in the blink of a moment.

I can't escape the pain inside

'Cause love takes time

And I don't wanna be here

I don't wanna be here, alone

As the song finished your eyes welled up, because you knew your moment had ended with it too. Now you had to go back home all alone, whatever parts of your heart you had mended in the past 4 months was broken again, being close to him again made you realise that you'd never get to have this again.

You stepped away from him slowly, Chance, Stella, Patricia,they all had eyes on you but you couldn't be there anymore. You ran towards Patricia and gave her a big hug.

“I'll come tomorrow -”

“Y/n”

“I promise i will” you quickly reached for your bag before you ran out of the apartment.

The second the door shut behind you, Eric muttered a quick apology to Patricia and barely heard her soft, knowing, “Go” before he was already out the door.

The hallway was dimly lit and too quiet, the echo of your heels clunked like thunder in his ears. You were already at the door of the building,

“Wait—” he said, breathless as he caught up with you.

You didn’t turn. You couldn’t. If you saw his face right now, it would break you completely.

“Please” he said again, closer now. “Wait”

Then suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to breathe through the tightness.

“I shouldn’t have danced with you,” you said finally, your voice low “That was a mistake and since when you're a top choreographer from dancing with the stars?” you said, though your tone was unamused.

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate, firm “It wasn’t a mistake”

You turned to him then, angry tears burning your eyes.

How dare he?

“Of course it was, Eric. It felt real and it’s not. We’re not real anymore, in fact we are nothing. You made sure of that.” you tried to turn and leave but he grabbed your arms.

“I know i have done something unforgivable y/n-”

“No... no. No..You don’t get to say that now.” You stared at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “After months, you don't get to walk back into my life just because you want to ..that's what you said that day right? That You didn't want me anymore? Do you remember that?”

“I remember every word, every cruel thing I said to you that day. I remember it all, I'd never forget it” he mumbled so you let out a bitter chuckle and stepped away from him, your body hitting the main door of the building.

“Then what exactly has changed here Eric? Is it because I'm skinny now or something? Perhaps I look prettier? Maybe you want to fuck me…let's fuck..we don't need to pretend to be in love for that”

Eric looked at you as if you had slapped him in the face and that's exactly what it was, his Mama was right, there were plenty of other ways he could hurt someone badly and he understood it now. He grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to calm your trembling nerves, he hated himself in that moment, more than he usually did anyways..

“It was never pretense, I love you” he spoke between his tears, his hold on your shoulders was strong and desperate as if he was afraid you'd vanish if he was to let go, and maybe you already had, the part of you that loved him, that trusted him, maybe that was gone forever.

“You love me? No You destroyed me. Do you know what that feels like?” your lips trembled as you spoke but you continued “Being on top of the world, being made to feel like the luckiest most blessed woman on earth and then being thrown out like a broken toy you didn't want to play with anymore? Do you have any idea what that feels like? To feel so disposable? To know that I meant absolutely nothing to you, that you could just cut me out of your heart like a disease and never look back..you know what that did to me?”

Tears didn't stop as you said everything you had wanted to say to him since that day.

“Tell me how could I ever believe in anything when I know that I can be abandoned any given moment. That no matter how happy I am right now, the man i love the most in the world could just leave me all alone in the dark out of nowhere, telling me that he was done holding my hand because he didn't want to anymore”

Eric was stunned, he didn't even know what to say to you anymore, his words became meaningless the moment he broke your heart with no fault of your own. Whatever promises he had made you became void that day, whatever he'll say to you now won't mean much either because words are just that. Words. He could talk all he wants but at the end of the day he knew he'd never be able to make you believe in him again.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to die trying.

There was someone outside the door trying to get in so you stepped aside. It was Miranda. Of course it was.

“Uhh Eric I'm so sorry I'm late i got busy” She said awkwardly, she knew she had gotten between a heated conversation, she then walked past you both and walked towards Patricia's door.

“Have fun with your new girlfriend” you said to him as you stepped out of the building but he followed you. Again.

“Hey hey…hey ..let me drop you home.. please..it's late please y/n”

“I am capable of calling a cab”

Eric stepped in front of you, blocking your path with desperation. His chest rose and fell too fast, his eyes searched your face, like he was trying to memorize it in case this was the last time you’d let him close enough to see.

“I know you are. You are strong and capable of everything, but just please..let me do this”

His voice was soft and gentle, pleading and as much as you wanted to keep berating him you knew he was going through something no child of a loving parent should ever have to go through so you nodded and allowed him to take you home.

“She's not my girlfriend.. she helps Mama with physical therapy, that's all, i haven't been with anyone else”

Your heart skipped a beat as he said that. That shouldn't have made you feel as relieved as it did, you didn't want to care.

As your building arrived he waited for a moment before he turned off the engine.

“Thanks.. goodnight” you mumbled as you quickly took your seatbelt off to step out. Eric did the same, he stepped out and watched you head towards the stoop, and much to his surprise you turned around to look at him. You kept staring at him so he approached you..

“I left my purse in the car” you said to him so he looked behind once but then he continued to approach you. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you but then you knew he'd never do something like that if he felt you didn't want the same.

“Why did you do it? Why did you ruin us?” You asked him, you really wanted to know this time. That's what you had been asking yourself, coming up with different answers everytime you did.

“I yelled at you” he mumbled as he cupped your cheeks between his palms, your face almost disappearing in his hold.

“That night, you wanted to come with me, be there for me and what did I do? I got angry and i yelled at you, i took my anger out on you”

You looked at him, he was being sincere you could tell, you always knew there was something missing when he broke up with you and used her cancer as a reason for it.

“So? You yelled once? What about it?” you crossed your arms, not really understanding where he was going with this.

“This..this.. exactly this..i saw it in your eyes, i raised my voice and you flinched but you thought it was okay of me to do that, right? You'd have let it slide like she did all her life, so I'd yell again someday and then again, and then again and you'd let me off the hook every time , you'd have forgiven me because you loved me, you'd justify my anger, you'd try to see past it and forgive over and over again until I'd have rendered you unable to walk someday”

Your blood ran cold as he finished speaking.

You stared at him, stunned into silence by the words that had just left his mouth, by the weight of them. His voice had gone quiet as if he was ashamed of how clearly he could see the monster in himself.

“Eric…” you whispered, but no other words came.

He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth

“I saw it that night. The way you looked at me. Like you were already forgiving me. And all I could hear was her voice in my head, the way she used to say that ‘He didn’t mean it. He’s just stressed. He’s hurting, that’s all.’ And every time she said it, it cost her something. A piece of her gone forever, chipped away more and more because she chose to stay and forgive”

You covered your mouth with your hand as you processed his words. Is that why he broke up with you?

“That’s not who you are” you said, your voice breaking.

“I wasn’t” he said. “But I could be. I felt it. It was like a switch. And I knew that I would rather lose you forever than ever, ever become that man”

Your tears came quickly then, blurring your vision, spilling down your cheeks.

“So you broke my heart to save me from a version of you that doesn't even exist?”

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.

“I did, it was a mistake, I thought I was doing you a favor, but I only ruined you and i don't know how to live with that y/n…i don't know what I'm going to do when she dies, and I don't know how to keep him at bay, I don't know how to control him”

He broke down in tears so you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a hug, your own pain was forgotten for a moment, you wished he had said this to you that day, you wished he'd have done this instead of what he did. You wished he had given you a chance to make him realise that he could never become the monster he was so afraid of being.

“You're not his son Eric”

His arms were wrapped tightly around you, he didn't think he'd ever get to hold you like this, he knew he wasn't worthy of your forgiveness just yet but he wanted to be honest because his Mama was right, even if he loses you forever he didn't want to let you go without trying.

“That's the thing though” he let out a bitter laugh so you pulled away to look at him “I am his son y/n. I was taken in by Mama but I was his son, product of an extramarital affair he had with my biological mother”

Your breath caught in your throat at the revelation. It made sense now, the fear he had.

Eric’s arms stayed around you, like he needed to finish the confession before you pulled away. His voice was hoarse, trembling, and heavy with years of truth he’d never spoken aloud.

“The night Mama found out about his affair, she went to confront her, my mother, that's where she saw me, crying as I clutched onto my mother's dead body. She had overdosed” you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Your heart broke for that child.

“The moment I saw her, Patricia, I ran to her and hugged her legs so tightly because I was so scared. And She fought for me, you know? I was the living breathing face of her husband's betrayal and yet she convinced him to take me in, to adopt me, I was seven, and then she loved so much that I don't even remember my own mother's face anymore but what I do remember is my father reminding me all my life that I was the result of his mistake”

He looked down at the ground like it might crack open and swallow him, your grip tightened around him.

“And when I yelled at you that night... and you flinched, and you tried to love me through it anyway.. it was like something had snapped inside me. I saw her..Patricia..I saw her in you”

You blinked fast, your heart aching as the image filled your mind.

“And I thought, ‘This is how it starts.’ One raised voice. One scared look. One woman trying to love me so much she forgets herself in the process. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I wouldn't” he placed his forehead down on yours before his lips pressed over your skin, lingering for several moments.

“So your solution was to break me anyways?” You asked him so he nodded.

“I hate myself for that, trust me I do”

You pulled away from him as he said that.

“You're not your father Eric, biological or not, you're not him. You could never be, he made his wife suffer all her life and he relished in it, you cut me out of your life because you raised your voice a pitch higher than normal, so no you're not him” Eric looked at you then like he didn’t deserve to hear those words. Not from you, not after what he had done.

“You think Patricia took you in because she saw your father in you?” you asked softly. “She took you in because she saw the opposite of him. She saw what could be saved. She saw a boy that was worth loving”

His lips parted, but no sound came out. His eyes shimmered in the low light. He looked like a boy in a man’s body, lost and trying to be brave.

“And yeah,” you went on, swallowing around the burn in your throat. “You hurt me. Badly. You broke me. But I still see that boy she raised. Even now, I still see you..you have a gentle, loving, kind, heart Eric and you can't hurt anyone the way he did, let alone me”

You placed a hand on his chest, where his heart was hammering violently beneath your touch.

“You’ve got the same blood, maybe. But that’s not who you are, Eric. You get to choose. And you already made a choice that night, in your twisted, fucked up sense you chose not to become him when you let me go..so please forgive yourself for the blood you share with him because that's the only thing you have in common with him”

He broke down in tears so you wrapped your arms around him, his legs felt weak and shaky as he couldn't even stand anymore.

Once his tears finally came to a halt you pulled yourself away from him.

“I need some time Eric..i can't forgive you just yet”

He nodded as you said that. He wasn't even expecting you to stand here and listen to his sob story so you were already giving him more than he deserved.

“I know I just wanted to tell you everything because I needed you to know it wasn't you, it was never you, it was all me..and I'll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me”

You nodded as he said that. His words still stung from that day, you could still hear them in your head but he had just bared his soul open in front of you and you couldn't deny that you still loved him and you needed him. His heart was hammering in his chest, he wanted to spend time with you and grovel at your feet if you'd let him but he knew you needed your space.

You approached his car to take your purse so he quickly walked over and opened the door to take it out.

Much to his pleasure you sat inside instead. He was confused for a moment so you stared at him

“Are you going to stand there or take me back to her birthday party, I don't want to miss it okay?” You said as you put the seatbelt on so he smiled and closed the passenger door.

Even though you had opened one for him, you had opened the door he had slammed shut on your face so cruelly, you were willing to let him earn his forgiveness and that was more than enough for him.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Then the sound of a shove, the dull thud of her back hitting the wall.

Eric flinched where he crouched, one hand over his mouth, the other clenched in a fist so tight his nails dug into his palm.

“Don’t cry” his father had said. A hiss, low and venomous. “Don’t make that pathetic sound..” His father spoke but her sob only got louder, he then punched his fist through the wall.

“Goddamnit Are you not listening to me or something you bitch..stop crying?”

Eric didn’t remember what happened after that. But when he finally crept out hours later, Patricia was sitting on the couch in the dark, her eyes swollen from crying, her lip split, she was dabbing at her face with a cold washcloth like it was routine. Like it was nothing.

“It’s alright, baby,” she had whispered to him “It’s okay ..come here..come to mama” she opened her arms so he would run to her.

She then smiled.

Smiled with a busted lip her husband, his father had given to her.

*********

You didn't understand. You couldn't. What had happened? Everything was fine, it was more than fine, it was going great. There were no fights, no obvious signs of him losing interest in you. Nothing. Then what had you done? What was it that you had done that had made him pull away from you?

“I can't be with you anymore”

I can't. You had been staring at those words for hours now. I can't. He didn't say he didn't want to, he just can't, so maybe there was a silver lining here but then why can't he be with you?

You had called Chance and Shelly and Shelly told you she'd come see you but whatever had happened you needed to go talk to Eric, listen to his stupid reasoning for all of this right from his mouth.

So there you were, standing outside Patricia's building, waiting to be buzzed in but it had been ten minutes. You called Patricia but her cell was unreachable so you called Stella but she didn't pick up either, so you called Eric. Again. And he didn't pick up.

You knew something had gone down, something was wrong with Patricia and it was killing you that you were being kept out of the truth. An anger was slowly simmering underneath all that care and concern and you didn't know how to keep that anger away.

Fifteen minutes later you finally saw his car pulling up, he immediately stepped out of the vehicle, he saw you, you know he did, you were sitting on the stoop right in front of his eyeline but he didn't give you a second look. He immediately opened the backdoor to pick up Patricia, Stella was pulling out her wheelchair from the trunk.

“What happened?” You asked as he walked with her in his arms but he didn't answer, he went straight inside the building as Stella crunched the code in.

That's when you felt your anger escalate from simmering to bubbling.

“Hey y/n” Stella said to you so you looked at her.

“What happened to her?” You asked, your eyes teary so she put her arm around your shoulder to take you inside with her. Her eyes were teary too.

“It's not good news I'm afraid y/n” she said to you as you both stepped into her apartment.

“What's wrong with her?” You asked again, feeling dazed and left out. You cared about Patricia, she had been More motherly to you then your mother had ever been so seeing her like that broke your heart even further than Eric's ignorance did.

As you went inside Stella immediately went into the kitchen to prepare a meal for Patricia when she'd wake up.

You walked into her bedroom, Eric had just put her down in the bed.

When he was finally done fiddling with her duvet he finally looked at you and walked towards you to grab your arm and take you outside.

“Eric what's going on?” You asked him so he let go of your arm and turned to look at you

“Did you get my message?” He asked nonchalantly, you didn't know what it was but he just seemed like a different person at that moment. He just seemed so distant, so far away from you that you couldn't even feel his love.

“Message? The one that you sent me that said I can't be with you anymore? That message?” you glared at him.

“Yeah that message” he looked you in the eyes as he crossed his arms.

“Yeah I got it Eric, but I don't understand it-”

“What do you not understand? Words have meanings right? What does that mean?”

Your eyes welled up as he said those words to you as if you were just a fly hovering around him that he couldn't wait to get rid of.

“What's wrong with her?” you asked him, not even wanting to believe that this was happening to you right now.

He let out a deep sigh as you questioned..

“She has cancer, inoperable, incurable..that's what is wrong with her” you gasped as he said that. A part of you didn't want to believe it.

She had suffered enough, she didn't deserve to suffer more.

“Eric-”

“She's on meds, she'll be sleeping for a while ..you can come back when she's up”

“No I'll wait here, I'll wait”

“Y/n just go..don't make this difficult”

That's when the anger you had been swallowing so far exploded.

“Am I making this difficult? Eric? I'm the one making this difficult?” Your voice cracked as your chest rose with each breath, your vision blurry from unshed tears. “You hurt me and now you're standing here looking at me like I mean nothing to you?”

He didn’t even flinch, his eyes didn’t soften. He just stared at you with that same distant, unreadable expression on his face.

“You don’t understand” he said quietly. His voice was even, but it trembled.

“No, I don’t! So make me understand!” you shouted, your fists clenched at your sides “Everything was fine, Eric. You were fine. We were happy Eric..we were so happy” you reached out for him but he pulled away.

“She’s dying” he finally said. “She’s dying and I need to be there for her. Every second. Every breath of whatever time I have left with her I want to be here. I don’t have time to play house and to… to be in love with you”

Your heart sank even deeper if it was even possible. Those words cut through you like a dagger.

“Playing house? Is that all we were doing Eric?’

He looked away. His jaw clenched hard, his anger was all for him, none of this was your fault, it was all him and he knew you didn't deserve that. And that's exactly why he had to do this to you.

“That’s not what I meant”

“Then what do you mean, Eric?” Your voice rose again so he glared at you

“Keep your voice down.. she's asleep”

“You're trying to cut me out of your life..her life.. like I never mattered to you or her”

“I'm not cutting you out of her life y/n..i can't make that decision for her but I have to cut you out of mine” he snapped before he could stop himself. Then his voice lowered, strained and raw.

“I can’t be around you right now” He looked at you finally, and the pain in his eyes was unbearable. “I can’t waste one more second away from her. She’s all I’ve got left, she's the only family I have and she’s slipping away every second, it's not going to get any better. And You? You’re a distraction. A beautiful one, the best one I’ve ever had in my life, trust me. But I can't afford to be distracted. I need to give her everything while I still can and I can't do that when I have to cater to your needs half of my days”

You were silent as he lashed at you, your throat burning, hands trembling, every part of you wanted to hold him, take away the pain he was feeling, be there for him when he was going through this but he wouldn't let you.

You stared at him for a long uninterrupted moment, unable to breathe as if the very words he said had stolen the air from your lungs.

“So that’s it then?” you whispered. “I’m a distraction.. that's all? Not a friend, not a lover, not someone you need? Just a distraction?”

His jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak. His silence said enough. He wasn’t going to take his words back but you had to try.

You couldn't lose him too. He was all you had.

“You don’t get to make that decision for me, Eric. I’m not asking you to split your time. I’m not asking you to love me more than her, I'd never want that. I just want to be here, I just want to love you through this. That’s what people do when they love someone..they stay when the person they love needs them”

Eric was done the moment he had raised his voice at you last night, but listening to you right now, watching you desperately trying to keep this relationship from falling apart had broken him in ways he knew he'd never be whole again.

“I have never needed you y/n..i wanted you..and i don't want you anymore..you get that?”

You took a step back as those words left his mouth. The words landed like a blow to the chest, like your ribs cracked beneath them, his words felt as if he was crushing your heart right between his palms with no care or concern.

The silence between you turned suffocating. Everything inside you screamed that this couldn’t be real.. he couldn’t be saying this. Not your Eric.

Not the man who had uplifted you through the worse but now he was the one tearing you down.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Okay” you finally said, your voice barely audible. Just one broken word “Okay..”

He wouldn’t look at you now. His arms were crossed again, and he turned just slightly away, like even facing you might make him crumble.

“Go home, y/n,” he said coldly.

You blinked, stunned, your throat tight with unshed tears, but you nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak again.

As you turned away and walked toward the door, The door clicked shut behind you, but you stood in the hallway for a moment, your breath caught in your throat. The silence was deafening. A part of you expected him to follow you, to say he didn’t mean it, that he was just scared or overwhelmed. But he didn’t.

He wasn’t going to come after you.

You wiped your face, not even bothering to hide the tears now. You walked out of Patricia’s building, the sun too bright for the darkness that was filling you up, the world too normal, going at its usual pace as if your life hasn't turned upside now.

You sat on the stoop for a long time.

You didn’t even know where to go, all you knew was that you didn't want to be alone, you won't be able to survive this alone.

Finally you decided to call Shelly.

“Hey” she answered quickly. “Did you talk to him? What did he say?”

You tried to speak, but your voice cracked.

“I uhhh.. Shelly I don't know what I did wrong” your voice broke completely as you couldn't even form a sentence.

“Where are you?” she asked, immediately switching into protective mode.

“Outside” you whispered. “Outside her building. He… he doesn’t want me there. He said—he said I’m a distraction.”

There was silence on the other end as a part of her couldn't even believe what she was hearing.

“I’m coming to you. Stay there.”

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. You weren’t even sure your legs would work if you asked them to.

When Shelly arrived, she didn’t ask any more questions. She opened the passenger side door of her car and then stepped out to make you sit inside. She looked at you, your red eyes, your trembling hands, and reached over to hold your arm.

“I don’t understand” you whispered. “We were fine. We were so good. I don’t know what I did.”

Shelly shook her head as you said that

“You didn’t do anything. This isn’t about you..he's being a complete ass but this isn't about you sweetheart, you did nothing wrong.”

“But he made it about me” you said. “He looked me in the eye and said we were just playing house. Like what we had wasn’t real. Like I was just… in the way or something to kill time with”

Shelly exhaled slowly as she heard that.

“Did you find out about Patricia?” she asked softly as she squeezed your shoulders so you nodded, trying to collect yourself enough to speak.

“She has cancer. It’s… it’s bad. Inoperable. Incurable. That’s what he said..and she looked so tired and i know he's scared-” you whispered between your tears “I just wanted to be there for him. I still do but he won't let me”

Shelly didn’t say anything to that. She just rubbed your shoulder gently as you tried not to fall apart again.

“I just don’t want to lose him.” you broke down in tears again so Shelly turned to you.

“You haven’t lost him. Not really. He has just… gone somewhere you can’t reach right now..nobody can..except Patricia”

********

He stood under the shower for what felt like hours after you left.

The apartment was quiet now. Too quiet. Patricia was asleep. Stella was in her room looking after her.

He had just broken the heart of the only woman he'd ever fall in love with.

He had watched your eyes fill with tears. He’d watched your body fold in on itself like you were trying not to break right there in front of him. He had watched you leave.

And he didn't stop you even though every part of him wanted to run into your arms and cry his heart out. He had lied, he needed you so much but he couldn't have you.

Not after what he had done last night.

He could still hear it. His own voice..his voice yelling at you the night before.

“Goddamn it, I said no..are you not listening to me or something??”

All you wanted to do was be there with him. That was it. You had reached for him, soft-eyed, gentle, worried. And he yelled at you like you had committed some kind of crime.

That was the moment he knew he had to let you go now before he won't be able to.

Because he knew that voice very well, the one he’d used last night on you. That tone, that heat in them, the condescending, cruel, controlling edge.

He had heard it all his childhood.

He remembered the way Patricia used to freeze, the way her fingers would start shaking even when she tried to hide it. He remembered how she’d retreat, how she’d go quiet, small like silence was the only thing that could protect her.

And he had seen that same look last night on your beautiful face.

You didn't say anything in return, you kept looking at him so lovingly as if he hadn't raised his voice at you.

You shrunk the way Patricia used to do, as if it was you who had done something wrong.

For a moment he had thought he could leave his past behind, he could forget all about the ugliness of the blood running through his veins.

But it was impossible to run away from his true self.

And it had felt good. That was the worst part. Not in a way that he was remotely proud of. But in the brief moment when he’d yelled at you, when you had gone quiet, when he had regained control over the situation, he had felt something sickeningly familiar.

And he had to get away from that. From you.. Because you didn’t deserve to be loved by someone who might, at any moment, become a monster.

You were better off hating him. Better off gone because it was just his voice last night that he had raised, but who knew when his hand would follow it too and he knew he didn't want that for you, he couldn't be the man who'd make you smile through a busted lip.

He swallowed hard as he stepped out of the bathroom and began walking slowly to Patricia’s door. He didn’t go inside. Just leaned against the frame. She was still here, she was all he had. But she won't be here for long, he didn't even know how to live in a world that didn't have her.

He promised to himself that he would give her everything, Every waking minute he had left with her. And he would do it alone.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Because maybe that’s what he deserved. To lose the two people he loved the most in this world, one to her illness and the other to the man that he was bound to become someday.

Eight hours of sleep every night had become the favourite part of your day, the best actually, because when you slept, you often dreamt, you often dreamt of that day at Patricia's apartment, that first dinner, when you weren't lovers but you were more than friends and that was apparent, when he so badly wanted you to be a part of his family, with Chance, Shelly and Stella over there, it was perfect, that day was perfect. You were a part of something, and now it was all scattered. At Least you still had Patricia. It was the only thing that hadn't changed.

So yeah, you looked forward to sleeping a lot because that's when you saw him the way you remembered, he'd look at you the way he used to, the way he did until the moment that night outside the gym, when he passed you the helmet and looked at you as if you had hung stars over his sky, you'd often dream that phone call had never came and he took you for that dinner and then spent the night at your place, where you slept in his arms feeling every bit of love he has made you believe was yours to have.

So eight hours of that, that left you with the four hours of the day where you didn't even know what to do.

It's not as if you had friends of your own, Chance and Shelly, they were his friends, Shelly did her best to be there for you as much as she could, she was absolutely one of the nicest person you had ever known but they were his friends so you distanced yourself from them slowly, because if they were there for you then they won't be there for him when he needed them.

Your fingers tapped on the kitchen table mindlessly as you stared into the space in front of you. What were you supposed to do? That was the question. When Jake broke your heart, you gave up on yourself but you were able to let it out, you acted up, you binged on food, you cried watching romantic movies with a tub of ice cream in your hand because that made you feel better. He had hurt you, you knew him being gone was a good thing.

But Eric? He left you feeling dead inside, you didn't even understand it, he loved you so much and then in a moment he just decided that he didn't. How do you ever get over that feeling? How do you ever make yourself feel happy again knowing it could be taken away from you the very next moment?

You thought about texting him. Often. You didn't, of course. You never would again. But the thought came anyway, Sometimes you even typed out the message just to delete it again. Like a ritual. Like a self-inflicted wound you had gotten used to.

You didn’t want him to be the villain. That was the worst part. You wanted to hate him, wanted something neat and sharp to wrap around this unbearable grief but he wasn’t Jake. He hadn’t cheated or lied or manipulated you. He just left. Pulled back. Shut down. Like a light switch. And somehow that made it worse because it made you feel disposable, as if you could be discarded the moment you weren't what someone needed.

A week ago, Chance called you asking to meet so you did, he would often ask how you were doing, he didn't want to bring Eric up either, Eric was his ride and die, the only thing he had said once about this whole situation was that his best friend had self destructive tendencies, that's what he went for when he didn't know how else to control a situation.

Whatever that meant, you were past the moment where his reasons for this decision would change anything, he had broken you in a way that was irreversible.

Chance told you how that Physiotherapist Miranda had been to the gym a lot lately and she'd often come when Eric was at the gym himself, not that he was even there a lot these days, he had hired two trainers to take care of his clients but she always left with him, where to? Chance had no idea, he had tried asking but had gotten no response.

“Do you like it?” You asked Patricia as she put on the sweater you had bought for her, you saw it outside a store today, the warm fuzzy fabric, it just reminded you of her so you knew you had to get it.

You knew she was suffering, she seemed weaker, less energetic, her hair had thinned, she used to wheel around all over her apartment but some of these days she couldn't even get out of bed, the chemo took a toll on her, the only reason she was doing it was because of Eric. He was spending every last penny he had earned to extend her life as much as he could and she didn't want to take that away from him.

“It's beautiful..thank you my child, my birthday isn't for another three days though” she mumbled softly so you gave her a smile.

“Oh this is not your birthday present..just a random one” you mumbled so she gave you a warm smile, it was one of the only things that made you feel something these days. That smile and you didn't know how you'd cope when you won't be able to see it anymore.

“Alright Ms beautiful..i gotta go now” you said as you got up and grabbed your bag so she sighed like she did everyday.

“Stay for dinner, Stella is making her famous apple pie” she said to you so you smiled again. You wished you could but then you knew he would have to force himself to keep away as long as you were here.

“Save me a piece..I'll have it tomorrow” you leaned down to kiss her forehead, she placed her hand over your head to caress it.

“You know he misses you right? You can't let yourself believe that he doesn't” you smiled again as she said that. It wasn't genuine though this time.

“I love you but i think you're wrong”

As you made your way to the door you turned to look at her, everytime you left her room these days you felt a sense of dread, any day could be the last day you'd walk out of her room.

On the way out you said goodbye to Stella. The moment you stepped out of the building you saw Eric's bike pull up, it's been a while since you had seen him last, you almost wanted to walk up to him and ask how he was dealing with all of this, not as a lover or a friend but just as a human being, just ask if he was okay.

But then you saw her, Miranda, stepping off the backseat as if she belonged there, she did say hello to you as you walked past them so you gave her a polite smile, a smile even though a part of you felt resentment towards her. If Eric brought her in his life that wasn't her fault but you wanted to put the blame somewhere and then you looked at her properly. She was beautiful, more beautiful than you could ever dream of being and then it made sense.

*********

He saw you. Of Course he did. He tried to avoid you as much as he could but he still saw you at times.

“You okay?” Miranda asked, as she pulled off her helmet. Her tone was gentle, professional, but concerned. She had that voice that always made people feel like they could confide in her. He guessed that’s what made her good at her job.

Eric didn't answer at first. He had just caught a glimpse of you—walking out the building door. For a second, everything in him had stilled, his heart stopped beating for a moment.

You looked different, you had lost a lot of weight in the past 4 months he could tell even though you wore baggy tshirts and trousers, you looked gorgeous like always but he was worried. When he broke up with you he feared you'd stop working out and taking care of yourself again and now he feared you were at the opposite end of the spectrum.

You had walked right past him and Miranda, didn't even flinch. Just offered Miranda a tight, polite smile that didn’t reach your eyes. He knew that smile. Knew that polite mask you wore when you were hurting and didn’t want to show it.

He wanted to say something..anything. But what could he say now? Wait, it’s not what you think? That I’m not dating her? That I think about you every goddamn second?

No. He didn’t get to say that anymore. He had taken that right away the day he snapped at you, the day he let himself shut the door on his happiness before you could even try to open it.

“Come on,” he muttered finally, pushing open the building door for Miranda. “Mama is waiting.

**********

As you came back to the emptiness of your apartment you looked around, soaking in the silence and hollowness of the space before you slumped down on the couch. And seeing her, Miranda getting off the back of his bike? That was just cruel. The way she looked like she belonged there, next to him.

********

Later that night Eric sat down at Patricia's bedside, reading her a book she liked these days. When he was done, he bent down to kiss her forehead and wished her a goodnight but she grabbed his arm before he could leave so he sat down again.

“You're making her believe that she meant nothing to you Eric” Patricia said to him, she knew him, she knew why he was doing, she knew it was more than just him but wanting to not split his time between his dying mama and a girlfriend, she was familiar with all insecurities, all the comparisons he had made with his father all his life, the fear he had of turning into him.

His mother’s voice was quiet, but it cut through him like a blade. He didn’t respond. Not immediately. Just stared at her thin hand wrapped around his wrist, so frail, so gentle. And still, somehow, the strongest anchor he had.

Patricia’s gaze didn’t falter. He could lie to you all he wants but she knew him and he couldn't lie to her no matter how much he tried to.

“She looks so… lost, sweet bug. I haven’t seen her like that before, you'd think it would get better with time-.”

“Mama, don’t—” he interrupted her, like he always did, he didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to know if you were hurting.

“She still loves you.”

“She shouldn't ”

His words came out strangled, like he hadn’t meant to say them aloud. He swallowed hard, knelt beside her bed like a boy asking for forgiveness.

Patricia gently brushed her fingers through his hair.

“Why are you doing this to her? Why do you want her to hate you?”

Eric let out the breath he was holding

“Because she deserves more than this. She should hate me. It’d be easier for her if she did.”

Patricia’s eyes welled with tears as he voiced his thoughts out loud but she wanted to make him see the reason..all his life he had stayed away from women because he didn't think he deserved affection, he always thought he would wake up one day and become his father and that just wasn't true.

“That woman worshipped the ground you walked on. She doesn’t want easy, Eric. She wanted you”

Eric clenched his jaw,her words striking a chord. His chest ached.

“I yelled at her,” he said finally, voice hoarse. “That night when Stella called me from the hospital..She just asked to come with me to the hospital, she just wanted to be with me and I yelled at her like that bastard of a father used to yell at you for no reason. I saw her eyes..I saw how she flinched and yet she looked at me as if I had nothing wrong”

He looked away, ashamed as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I kept thinking” he continued, “All night as I watched you in the hospital bed I kept thinking ..What if one day I lash out again? What if I say something worse? What if I hit her when she's not listening to me? What if she makes me angry and I do something I can’t take back? She doesn’t deserve to be loved with conditions or fear or what ifs all her life, she deserves a man who'd not raise his voice at her. I thought if I let go early, before it got worse, maybe I’d save her from all of that”

Tears rolled down her eyes as she listened to him talk about himself so cruelly.

“Oh baby you know you're the sweetest baby there ever could be and you have turned into this fine gentleman any woman would be blessed to have” she mumbled softly as she pulled him in for a hug, he placed his head down on her chest as he cried in her arms, finally letting out the emotions he has been holding in.

“But you didn’t save her, sweet bug” Patricia said gently, her voice tender but firm at the same time. She didn't want to leave this world behind knowing her son would never allow himself to be happy “You broke her.”

Eric’s eyes burned as he heard that. He knew he had hurt you, he knew he had broken your heart but having it said out loud and hearing it from his mama killed him.

“She’s wasting away just like I am,” Patricia said “Only you can’t see it because she hides it behind polite smiles and empty stomachs and all those hours at the gym that you taught her to use like armor”

“I just wanted to do the right thing”

“No, baby,” Patricia whispered. “You were just scared. You’re not your father, I have always said that, not because you're my baby, not because I love you but because I know you have a loving heart and you could never hurt anyone. But if you keep letting fear make your choices, one day you’ll wake up and realize you became him anyway..you don't just use your voice and your hands to hurt people, sometimes indifference is enough, letting someone in, making them believe they matter and then cutting them lose, that can change someone's life and how they choose to live and trust other people, that hurts more sometimes”

Eric didn’t lift his head. He couldn’t. His tears were falling freely now, soaking the blanket that covered Patricia’s chest. His shoulders shook under the weight of everything he had refused to feel for months.

Patricia kept stroking his hair, her breath shallow but steady

“I’m not telling you to fix everything all at once, sweetheart,” she murmured. “But you’ve gotta stop running from the things that scare you most. You have this life and you’re letting it pass you by..years from now you'll see her and you'll regret not giving her the love you had for her, you'll regret when you'll watch her be with someone who you know would never love her the way you could”

Eric sniffed hard and wiped his face with the back of his hand like a boy trying to look brave, but the war inside him was still raging.

He sat up slowly, meeting her eyes, red-rimmed and tired.

“I have ruined it beyond repair mama, i don't think she'll ever believe anything I'll say” he said, his voice almost childlike in its fear.

Patricia gave him a small smile, the kind that could crack through years of self-loathing.

“Then at least you’ll know you tried. But I don’t think she’s done with you, baby. Not even close. She still walks in here like this place is home”

“She loves you” he mumbled ashe wiped his tears, so Patricia smiled

“Oh I know she does.. but you think she comes here just for me? I mean, I’m delightful” she added with a weak smile, “but don’t fool yourself. She comes because part of her still hopes to catch a glimpse of you. She sits in this room like her heart is caught in her throat. She pretends not to look at your pictures, but I see her stare at it when she thinks I'm not looking. She still loves you, Eric, she's hurt, she might get upset but she still would do anything for you”

He looked down at his palms, calloused from the years of weight training. His fingers gently rubbed over the callouses, the same way yours would do every time you held his hand on yours.

“How do I fix something I shattered mama?” he whispered “She gave me her heart, she trusted me and i took it away from her”

There was silence for a while as he questioned her but then she smiled.

“You be honest, you tell her what scares you the most, you let her in”

Eric stood up as she said that, pressing a kiss to her forehead once more “You need anything?”

“Just you believing in your worth like you believe in others”

*****

Three days later you stood outside her building holding a gift box in your hand. Shelly was supposed to pick you up but she was running late so you came by yourself. Your heart was racing because you knew Eric would be there too,he couldn't run or escape today, it was her birthday, she'd not let him leave.

What you feared the most was seeing Miranda there, or worse watching them together.

You took a deep breath as you knocked on her door. You could hear music and chatter of voices coming from the inside, the smell of delicious food made you feel a little warm.

And then the door opened and then you saw Eric, in a green button up shirt the exact shade of his beautiful green eyes. You had a feeling Patricia forced it on him.

You didn't say a word as you entered, he didn't blame you either. He deserved it.

But then he noticed the dress you had on, you had told him all about it, the red dress that brought you at the steps of the Crow last year around the same time. The one you wanted to wear to impress Jake's family, the one you couldn't squeeze in without restricting your breathing, the same dress that hung loose around your waist now.

Behind you, Eric entered the room and stood silently, his eyes never leaving you. He could feel it, the wall you had built to keep him out. And tonight, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to climb it or stay exactly where he deserved to be, on the other side.

He caught Patricia’s glance from across the room. She gave him a look that clearly said Don’t just stand there like an idiot.

But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until he found the courage to tell you what scared him the most. Not until you looked at him again the way you used to. And not until he figured out how to ask the one thing that had been clawing at his insides for months.

Ask if you still loved him.

😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞

“It kind of is..they're on their knees sucking a man's dick as if they are beneath him”

You blinked as he said that, he wasn't completely wrong, some men did degrade women, some men did act as if their women owed them oral sex.

“It can be ..you're not wrong ..but it depends on the man and what kind of relationship he has with his woman don't you think? With us, how could it be degrading Eric? I just want to please you.. because it pleases me to please you”

He gulped as you said that, he really wanted to believe that but he didn't want you to do it because you thought he wanted you to do it.

“Did you do it for him?” you blinked rapidly, you weren't really anticipating the question, he never really brought him up unless you did.

“I uhhh yeah I did..” you stuttered on your words so he nodded.

He wasn't judging you for it, of course not, he was just worried, knowing what kind of man Jake was, he knew he must have asked for it, even manipulated you at times to do it even when you weren't in the mood.

“Did he return the favour?”

You gulped as he said that, to be fair you just wanted to get down on your knees and watch him look all flushed and pretty as you'd suck the soul out of him, you weren't really prepared to have a serious conversation.

“I uhhh .he ..once he tried and..i wasn't ..ummm i didn't taste good or whatever so..he made a comment and i didn't want him to be uncomfortable so–” you said, feeling a bit embarrassed by the conversation. Well a bit was an understatement.

Eric’s expression darkened, not with anger toward you, never that but with rage rage at what had been done to you. At what you had been made to believe about yourself. His jaw clenched, and his thumb instinctively brushed your cheek,

“He said that to you?” he asked, voice low as if he was hurting on your behalf.

You nodded slowly, avoiding his eyes now.

“It’s not a big deal. I mean… It was a long time ago.” you chuckled to let go of the embarrassment.

But Eric wasn’t letting it go. He tilted your chin back up gently until your eyes met his.

“No. Don’t do that” he said softly but firmly. “It is a big deal..anything that hurts you is a big deal” you sighed as he said that.

“I guess I just didn’t want to give him a reason to stop… wanting me. So I told myself that he was right, that it didn’t matter. But yeah, after that, I never asked again. I didn’t even think I deserved it if I didn’t taste just..right”

Eric looked at you like he wanted to hold every broken piece of that memory and burn it to ash. He shook his head slowly, stepping closer, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“You deserve everything,” he whispered. “Everything. Pleasure. Worship. To be seen and touched and tasted like you’re divine because you are..every part of you is sweet just the way you are”

Your eyes teared up as he said that, there was a moment last night, he was pleasuring you with his fingers, his digits completely soaked, he had placed them in his mouth to suck them clean when he was done making you cum, he had even hummed as if you were the best meal he have had all day.

“I wasn’t trying to stop you because I didn’t want it,” he said against your mouth. “I stopped you because I love you too much to let you do it for the wrong reasons, or degrade yourself to do it as you had to do it to keep him happy”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, always gentle but fierce in his love.

“I know. But I didn’t feel like that with you. Not even for a second. That’s why I wanted to… I wanted to give you that. Not because I felt I had to, but because I wanted to see you lose control. I wanted to make you feel good, because God, Eric, you make me feel so good all the time..emotionally, physically, everything.”

He brushed his nose against yours, his hands cradling your face

“You already do that, baby,” he whispered. “Every time you look at me the way you do, you make me feel so good it's doesn't even feel real at times “

You smiled through the tears that never quite fell.

“You’re really not like anyone I’ve ever known.” you mumbled softly, looking up at him with awe and adoration.

“I don’t want to be” he said softly. “I want to be better for you”

You kissed him then as you didn't really know what to say anymore, he was so different from every other man you had ever known in your life.

When you pulled back, your fingers brushed the edge of his jaw

“But Eric,” you added gently, with a small, teasing smile “I still really, really want to get on my knees for you.”

He let out a soft, chuckled laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders as he pressed his forehead to yours again.

“Yeah?” you nodded as he questioned.

“Yeah. But not because I feel small but because I feel safe. And quite honestly i absolutely love the way you look when you're falling apart”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything—just stared at you like you were a miracle he never believed he’d be allowed to touch.

“Okay. But i have a condition..two conditions basically”

“Mmmm ?”

“I get to return the favour and I get to shower first, i have been working all day”

“Mmmm okay but i need to be prepared for that” you said to him so he shook his head, he understood what you meant but he didn't want you to feel obligated to do it, it didn't really matter to him.

“You don't need to be prepared..not for me”

“It would just make me feel better”

“Mmm then you can do whatever you want baby” you let out a giggle as he said that.

“Now you better hurry up” you bit on your lips as you spoke to him.

“Yeah you think?” The corner of his mouth curved into a smile, the look in your eyes turned him on but he wanted to make this good for you.

You nodded with a small smirk, your fingers tracing the line of his collarbone.

He chuckled under his breath before he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead “Alright then,” he said, his voice warm “Give me ten minutes..sit your gorgeous ass down here” he mumbled as he took steps with you until you hit the edge of his twin bed.

You giggled again, watching as he grabbed a fresh towel and disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water starting up shortly after. As the door clicked shut, you sat back on the edge of the bed, your heart still fluttering, not just from anticipation, it was there but the way he saw you, treated you, took care of you, all of it felt like healing you didn’t even know you needed in your life, he fixed parts you didn't even was broken. You bend down on your elbows, your legs crossed, trying to look as sexy as possible even though the position was a bit uncomfortable.

As the bathroom door opened he stepped out, towel slung low on his waist, water still clinging to his skin, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends.

“You’re staring” he said

“Of course I am,” you replied, not even trying to be subtle as your gaze swept over him.

Eric approached slowly, his bare feet making almost no sound on the floor. “Still want to get on your knees?” he asked as he hovered over you, his mouth immediately latched on yours, he was so cold, his skin almost freezing from the shower.

“More than ever,” you whispered between the kisses.

The towel slipped down as he grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head before laying you down.

When you pulled back from the kiss, you looked into his eyes, breath shallow. “Can I?” you asked, soft and steady.

He nodded, the movement slow and almost awed. “Yeah… but come here first.” his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into him. He held you close for a moment, burying his face in your neck, like he needed to feel you there before anything else.

“I just needed to hold you,” he murmured

He kissed your shoulder, then leaned back slightly, his eyes heavy-lidded and full of adoration.

“Where do you want me?” He asked as he pulled away a little.

“Here on the bed, sit at the edge, legs wide open” his breath hitched at the command.

With that, you slid off the bed slowly, your hands never leaving his skin as you sank to your knees in front of him, sitting right between his legs.

He grabbed the towel, rolled it up and then placed it under your knees. You bit on your lips at the subtle gesture, your focus then shifted on his godly body, the way his chest rose and fell just a little faster now, on how his hands clenched and unclenched the bedsheet as he watched you.

You leaned in slowly, pressing a kiss to his knee first, then the inside of his thigh, and felt the way his breath caught.

He watched you in awe like you were going to do something holy and sinful at the same time, he felt like he was going to be blessed and ruined all at once. His fingers reached for your hair, not to guide you, but simply to touch, to feel, to ground himself.

“God” he whispered, “you look so beautiful like this… not just because of this but bbecause you want this. I can see it in your eyes”

You looked up at him again, with the same innocent gaze from before that made him lose his mind a little “Touch my face, touch my lips before I wrap them around your cock” you murmured, making his breath hitch again.

His thumb brushed your cheek, fingers trembling slightly before he rubbed your lips, you opened your mouth slightly to suck his digit.

“I want you to remember this,” you said softly. “I’m doing this because I love you. Because I see you. Because when I’m like this, it’s not about being beneath you, Eric..it’s about having a part of you in me in every way you could ever be inside me.”

He let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for years. “You’re gonna kill me” he murmured with a shaky smile. “You’re gonna end me in the best way possible.”

You smiled, kissed the inside of his thigh again, and murmured against his skin, “That’s the goal.”

And then you finally took him in your hand, slow, gentle, making sure he saw every movement, felt every touch of your mouth like he was being worshipped slowly. He was already hard, already aching, but you took your time, watching how he responded, how his stomach tensed and abs flexed just a little as he let out a low groan.

“Fuck” he whispered. “You’re really doing this to me”

“Let me take care of you”

And then you did.

The moment you sucked him into the warmth of your mouth his whole body had gone taut like he was holding himself back from shattering already, his hand slid down, not to guide, but to thread through your hair again. He moaned your name like a prayer, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut. He never had this before, he had never had his cock sucked but he didn't regret it at all when it was you who got to do this to him for the first time.

You moved slowly, deliberately, giving him every ounce of your focus, your affection, your love. You placed his cock flat on his stomach as you licked the underside from the basement to the shaft.

He looked down at you once, and you met his eyes, lips and tongue all around his flesh and whatever self-control he had crumbled completely.

“Baby…” he whispered, voice strangled. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep looking at me like that…”

You smiled at his words but you didn’t stop. You took his cock into your mouth again.

His hips bucked slightly and he moaned so deeply it vibrated in your chest. He tried to pull back, tried to warn you but you didn’t let him go. Not once.

He then came with a broken groan, his hands tightening in your hair, his whole body trembling as you stayed with him through it, not flinching, not faltering, swallowing every drop he had skilled into your mouth like an offering, humming as it slipped down your throat.

And when he finally opened his eyes again, breathing hard, dazed, he looked down at you like he didn’t deserve you. Like he didn’t even believe you were real.

You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, then leaned up slowly, settling between his legs again, your hands resting on his thighs.

“You okay?” you asked softly, voice warm and loving.

He reached out and pulled you into his lap in one fluid motion, crushing your mouth to his in a desperate, grateful kiss, his breathing still heavy but he needed that kiss, he needed to kiss you like that whenever you'd go out of your way to please him like that.

“I’m better than okay” he murmured against your lips.

You smiled, resting your forehead to his again, heart thudding in perfect rhythm with his.

You were curled up in bed with him afterward, limbs tangled beneath the sheet, the quiet of the room broken only by the occasional whirring of the air conditioner and your gentle breathing. His arm was draped over your waist, fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back, while your head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took.

You looked up at him, your hand brushing the soft stubble on his jaw.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you” you whispered, voice hushed in the dim light of the nightstand lamp.

Eric glanced up at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a slow, thoughtful smile.

“Something you don’t know?”

You nodded, drawing a circle on his sternum with your fingertip.

“Yeah Something random.. I don’t care. Just something real.”

He was quiet for a second, his thumb brushing the dip of your spine as if it helped him think. Then he let out a soft laugh.

“I had a lazy eye when I was a kid,” he said, almost shyly.

“You did?” you couldn't help but smile as you questioned.

“Oh yeah. Big time. My right eye used to turn outward whenever I got distracted or focused on something and that happened alot” He chuckled under his breath, though his voice was laced with something tender “The other kids would often make fun of me whenever they caught it..except Chance of course”

Your brows furrowed as he said that “That’s horrible.”

He shrugged, brushing it off with a grin “Kids are cruel. One even accused me of being high once when I was like eight, took me quite awhile to understand what he meant”

“That stupid punk” he chuckled as you said that

“You and Chance go way back huh” he smiled as if he was reliving the day they met for the first time

“Yeah..known each other since we were seven..he never left”

You smiled as he said that, you were glad he has a friend like that in his life.

“How did you get it fixed, the lazy eye?”

“Well..My dad didn’t care…ofcourse” his smile faltered as he said that.

Your heart ached at that, so you snuggled closer to him, as close as possible.

“But Mama being who she is” he continued, and his voice softened like it always did when he talked about her, “she found this specialist across town. Saved up for the visits without telling her husband. Drove me there twice a week for six months ”

“Of course she did.”

“The doctor made me wear this ridiculous pirate patch over my good eye to make the lazy one work harder. I hated it. Cried the first time I had to wear it to school”

“You? Cried?”

You laughed, the image of him with a patch too adorable to handle.

“Mhhhm But she made me feel like it was cool to wear that to school,” he went on “She’d call me her little pirate and would assure me that other kids were now scared of me” you chuckled as he said that.

“Well I guess she was right.. besides..you have the biggest most beautiful pair of green eyes i have ever seen in my life” his brows quirked as you said that as if he had never been complimented like that.

“What about now?” He suddenly turned his one eye to the side and you gasped out loud in response.

“Oh my god you can do that on cue?” he chuckled along with you before he nodded.

“Yeah..just something i figured i could do later”

“You're so cuttttteeee”

“That's not good for my reputation”

You smiled as you raised your head up to kiss him “So big and beautiful eyes huh?” He chuckled between the kisses.

“Everything about you is big and beautiful, eyes, lips, this body, your cock that I had trouble sucking all the way in just now” he couldn't help but chuckle even though your words had stirred him again.

“Mmm did you always have such a dirty mouth?” he asked as he caressed your scalp before he pressed his head up to peck your lips.

“Yes, but I was silenced”

He smiled, but before he could respond there was a loud knock on the door.

“Yo you guys, Mrs. Whitman is here for her session” you immediately got off him as you heard Chance’s voice.

“Shit i almost forgot” Eric said as he got off the bed and reached into his closet.

He quickly dressed up in a fresh pair of trousers and a compression tshirt.

“I thought you were done with your sessions” you said to him as you put on your shirt.

“I was..this lady, she couldn't give me any other time so i gave her 8-9”

You nodded as he said that.

“Is that okay..i know it's our time..i just ..I'm sorry i should have asked”

There was genuine worry in his voice as he approached you so you smiled.

“You don't have to ask Eric, you're running a business here..you do what's best for your business, I can workout anytime with you and i don't need to schedule it anymore and that's enough for me”

His eyes softened the way they did everytime you said something that warmed his heart.

“Don't go home ..just one hour then I'm all yours, besides i want to take you out and feed you” your heart fluttered as he said that.

“Mmm like a date?”

“Yeah..that.. whatever it is”

“Can we go to salt and pepper?”

“Wherever you want baby..we can go wherever you want, I'm just not good at this whole taking your girl out on fancy dates thing” you hummed as he said that. You remembered Regina trying to justify her cheating by saying that he never took her out anywhere.

“You're doing absolutely fantastic, besides I'd rather be someplace where I am comfortable then some fancy place where I have to dress up and watch the way I eat” he cupped your cheeks and craned his neck down to kiss you.

“Eric man seriously..she's putting holes in my back”

Eric sighed as Chance's urgent voice came from the other side of the door.

“Go now Pirate”

He chuckled as he stepped away from you and walked towards the door before stepping out quietly. You got dressed too and on the way to the reception you saw him training Mrs. Whitman, she was probably the same weight as you, but seemed just as desperate to lose it all, you wondered why.

When you walked into the door that night you felt humiliated and ashamed of being in your skin, it was a real tragedy that you couldn't really realise it at the time, a man who loves you won't put you down in guise of care and concern, he won't give you an ultimatum to lose weight, he won't be embarassed of taking you to his mother because of few pounds.

Eric helped you, he cared about your health but he did it quietly, he never made you feel conscious, quite the opposite actually.

“You guys are like bunnies in heat these days” you snapped out of your thoughts as you heard Chance's voice.

“Jesus Chance-”

“No seriously, look at you two with the post coital glow and all”

“For your information we didn't have sex just now” you said to him as if that would get him off your back.

He let out a chuckle before he leaned onto the front desk.

“Seriously though, thanks, he deserves it”

“You're welcome but I'm not doing him any favours” you smiled so he nodded “Like you never did him any favours by sticking with him all his life”

“Are you kidding me? I love that guy..look at him”

You let out a laugh at the tone of his voice. You hung out with Chance until Eric was done with Mrs. Whitman, once she left you helped them close the gym before you both bid adieu to Chance.

You stood staring at his bike as he passed you the helmet, his eyes were on you, a soft smile on his face, that moment kind of stuck with you for long.

Because that was the last time he looked at you like that.

A minute later he received a phone call that changed everything, that took everything you were just starting to believe you had here.

When he hung up the phone he told you that he had to go to the hospital, it was Patricia. You wanted to accompany him, of course you did but he seemed lost in his head, he rode his bike towards your apartment.

“Eric?” you asked quietly as your building arrived .

He blinked and looked at you, eyes still glassy with distraction.

“It’s Patricia. I need to go.”

“Okay—just let me come with you”

He shook his head as he asked for the helmet so you gave it to him hesitantly.

“No. I’ll go alone.”

You stepped closer, placing your hand on his shoulder as he turned the ignition on “Eric, don’t do that. I can be there with you and i want to see her. Let me be there”

He ran a hand over his face, breathing hard like he was trying to shake something off.

“It’s fine. I’ve got it. Don't push it, just go home and rest”

“But I want to” you said, gently, carefully. “You shouldn’t be alone for stuff like this.”

That’s when he snapped.

“Goddamn it, I said no..are you not listening to me or something?” His voice raised, loud and unfamiliar.

You froze for a moment, not really expecting it.

He stared at you, chest rising and falling, eyes wide the second the words left his mouth, as if even he was shocked he said them that way.

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

“Just get inside please ” he said as his eyes welled up. He knew he couldn't run away from his true self for long.

“Eric…” your voice trembled, but you weren’t even sure what you were going to say. The ache in your chest was louder than your thoughts.

“I’m sorry” he said, and this time he sounded so broken you almost wished he hadn’t apologized, because it felt like a goodbye of sorts, you could just feel the way your heart broke a little. “Please go”

He said again so reluctantly you turned around and ran into your building.

The moment the light on your bedroom turned on you heard the engine of his bike fading into the distance.

Then he was gone.

You didn’t know what was happening with Patricia. You didn’t know what pain he was carrying alone, you called Chance and he told you that he'd call as soon as he has any information.

And that night, you didn’t sleep, you couldn't. You kept checking your phone but nothing came, you felt scared, you didn't even know what was wrong with Patricia.

Around 4 at night, you received a message from him, a message that changed everything. Just six words but they hurt way worse than anything ever could.

Eric : I can't be with you anymore

🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

“See?” he said, his hands still firm on your leg. “That. Right there. You do it every time I bring it up.”

You swallowed as he said that

“It’s not that big of a deal, Eric. I came back the same night—”

“Exactly..you weren't supposed to come back the same night so why did you?” he asked as he let go of your leg and grabbed your arms to pull you up in a sitting position. “No more dodging..i need you to talk to me” he mumbled softly as he cupped your cheeks.

“Can I take a shower first? I'd want your cock inside me as you comfort me and make me feel better after I tell you what happened”

His jaw ticked, and for a moment he just stared at you, your beautiful face, your pretty little mouth, the shameless glint in your eyes. You could feel the tension in his hands, in the way his thumb barely moved against your cheek.

“That’s not fair,” he said, voice low. Rough. “You don’t get to say shit like that when I’m trying to be serious.”

You gave him a weak, teasing smile before you leaned in to kiss the perfect tip of his nose.

“You make me so comfortable i just can't keep a lid on it”

He smiled a little as he latched his lips onto yours for a moment.

“Fine. You win. Shower and dinner but then you're not getting away anymore”

“Okay I don't want to”

Later that night as you reached his apartment he immediately picked you up and sat down on the couch in the living room with you on top of him.

The truth was you didn't want him to get hurt, he didn't know that you and your family knew about his past and how your mother judged him for it.

As your eyes welled up he immediately cupped your cheeks.

“Hey hey hey what's wrong baby..talk to me okay?” He murmured softly so you looked up at him.

“My mom..she uhhh she lied that day..my dad ..I mean he had a broken ankle but that's it ..he wasn't in the hospital, he wasn't serious, he was fine..she did all that drama because she didn't want me to be here for you on such a big day of yours” your voice came out broken as you spoke. His body tensed underneath, he knew your mother exactly wasn't a perfect reflection of motherhood but he didn't think she was capable of manipulating her own daughter like that.

“Why did she do that?”

“Because she doesn't care that you make me happy..she's so hung up on Jake..he was also there..like a setup..she wanted me to get back with him..that's when I knew I had to leave” he placed his forehead down on yours as you finished. Just the thought of you being around that jerk made his blood boil with fury. How could see bring that man over there after what he did to you?

“Did he hurt you? Touch you?” his jaw clenched as he questioned you so you shook your head to calm him down.

“I ignored his existence as if he wasn't even there” he let out a chuckle, slightly amused and proud at the same time. He remembered the time when you spoke of that jerk with love and respect, even though he had never deserved it.

“Good girl” he mumbled softly ashe pecked your lips “So she doesn't like me at all? Your mama? That's why she went through all that trouble? We haven't even met” you gulped as he said that. You didn't want to keep hiding the truth from him anymore.

“There's something i..you need to know..i never wanted to lie to you Eric..but i just ..didn't know how to bring it up” his brows furrowed as you said that, he didn't even know what you were going to say to him but he was imagining the worst.

“What is it baby..you're scaring me” you cupped his cheeks as he said that

“I know.. about you.. about what happened when you were seventeen..what happened with your father” the moment the words left your mouth he froze, his eyes welled up, plenty of times in the past few weeks he had thought of the exact moment he'd have to reveal his truth to you. Reveal what kind of man he actually was but none of those scenarios in his head involved you telling him that you already knew everything.

“How long? How long have you known?” he asked, his voice trembling with nervousness and fear.

“A few weeks after I started training with you, my mother uhhh.. she looked you up and found the records online”

Eric stared at you like he didn’t recognize you for a moment. His mouth parted, but no words came out, just a shallow breath, as if the ground had shifted beneath him.

Then he slowly stepped back, not in anger but in disbelief, then he gently lifted you off his lap, placing you down on the couch beside him. He stood up, running both hands down his face, his fingers lingering at his lips like he couldn’t trust them to speak.

“You… you knew?” he asked again, barely above a whisper. “This whole time?”

You nodded, your heart thudding in your chest.

He turned to look at you slowly, as if still trying to process your words. “But why..you knew and you stayed..why?” your brows furrowed as he said that.

“Because it didn’t change anything,” you said. “It didn’t scare me. It broke my heart, yeah. But it didn’t change the way I saw you. If anything… It made me want to understand you more.”

His brows pulled together like he was still struggling to believe it.

“But I always thought—God, I kept thinking what if one day she finds out?’ he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I convinced myself that when you found out… you’d leave”

You reached for his hand gently, curling your fingers around his.

“I wasn't going to leave, I was never going to stop being your friend..and i wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did,” you said. “Because I knew it had to be your choice. Not something I pushed out of you. And I’m sorry if keeping quiet made you feel like I was hiding something. I wasn’t. I was just… waiting for you to be ready to share your past with me”

He stared at your joined hands, then slowly looked back up at you. His eyes were glossy now, but he didn’t look away.

“You still became my friend,” he said softly, his voice tinged with wonder. “You still showed up. Every day. And now you're..you want to be mine..even after knowing what I'm capable of?”

Your heart clenched as you looked into his eyes, those green eyes that had seen too much pain and still somehow softened when they looked at you.

“What are you capable of? You want to know what you're capable of, Eric?”

Your voice was soft but unwavering as you held his gaze, not letting him look away, not letting him shrink into the shadows of the past.

“You’re capable of pulling me out of bed on days when I didn’t think I could even stand. You’re capable of pushing me to be better, to believe in myself when all I wanted to do was give up. You are capable of seeing me when I felt invisible to the people who were supposed to love me, you saw me and you believed in me.”

His lips parted, his breath shaky, but you didn’t stop. You got up from the couch to step closer to him, arms wrapped around his waist as you looked up at him.

“You’re capable of kindness..oh god so much of kindness. Eric. Of patience. Of making someone feel like they matter. You’re capable of carrying more than anyone should ever have to, and still..still..you find space in your heart to care for others, to love them and keep them over yourself”

You reached up and brushed your fingers against his jaw,

“You made me feel safe. Wanted. Loved, even when you didn’t say it out loud. You’ve held me when I was falling apart, Eric”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his brows drawn tight, his entire body tense like he was trying not to shatter.

“Your past doesn't define you, whatever you had to do to protect your mama and yourself, it doesn't change who you are, who you always have been” you whispered. “You're a good son, a good friend and a damn good man. That’s what you’re capable of Eric”

He stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time, something flickering in his expression, relief, disbelief, awe, all tangled up in the same breath.

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He just leaned down, closing the distance between you, crashing into you with a kiss that was as raw as it was desperate, like he was pouring every thank you, every I’m sorry, every I don’t deserve this into the kiss. He was supposed to comfort you but you were doing it for him instead.

“Please don't shut me out Eric, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but just know nothing would ever change how i feel about you”

His hands cradled your face like you were something fragile, something sacred, he pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours, his voice was barely a breath.

“He was a monster..even after he rendered her unable to walk, he didn't change, he said he would like he always did but he didn't change” his jaw clenched in anger, the mere thought of that man made him enraged.

“I was out with Chance one night, I drank..I had a couple of beers, i never had it before but I did that night, just to see what the fuss was all about -”

You didn’t say a word, your fingers lightly grazing over his chest. His thumbs were trembling against your cheeks.

“When I got home, it was quiet. Too quiet but then I heard it. It was faint, low but she was crying.. in pain, asking him to stop. So I burst into their room..”

He swallowed, jaw flexing, the pain flaring behind his eyes as though he was reliving that night.

“He was on top of her, forcing himself on her. She couldn’t move. She was trying to fight him, but she..she couldn’t..she couldn't do anything.”

His voice broke, just enough to leave silence echoing around it.

Your heart squeezed in your chest. You felt nauseous. Your eyes stung with tears but you didn’t interrupt. You needed him to let it out, share his side so he could begin to move on from it.

“And I lost it.. completely. I just remember pulling him off her. And then my hands… they wouldn’t stop hitting him. He was drunk and barely in control of his limbs and I couldn’t stop, i kept punching over and over and over until i felt his flesh squelching under my fist..she screamed for me to stop but i didn't, i couldn't”

You gulped, eyes filled with tears, you couldn't even imagine being in his place.

“I thought I had killed him,” he whispered. “And I really wanted to kill him”

“But you didn’t,” you whispered back. “You stopped”

He let out a hollow breath, shaking his head. “I stopped because i thought he was dead..i thought he was finally gone from our lives”

You felt the warmth of tears on your cheeks, he looked at you like he was waiting for the moment you’d pull away. Waiting for the look of fear. Disgust. Pity.

But you only moved closer, tucking yourself against his chest.

“You were a child, Eric. A child trying to protect someone he loved”

“I still did it,” he said hoarsely. “That part of me, that anger, that monster that can kill…it’s still in there..he's hiding.. he lays dormant but at times I feel it..feel him crawling inside of me like a parasite in my veins.”

“I wouldn't call him a monster..you did it to protect the woman you love the most, how come that makes you a monster?” You held him tighter, your fingers gently curling into the back of his shirt, as though you could anchor him back to the present, to you. “I know,” you whispered. “I know he’s in there. But I also know who you are”

Eric let out a breathless, bitter laugh. “You don’t. Not really. You’ve never seen me lose control. You’ve never seen me that far gone. I blacked out. I wanted to kill him. That part… that dark, ugly part of me, it scares the hell out of me. Because I don’t know what else he’s capable of doing if I ever let him out again.”

You slowly pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands moving to cradle his face.

“You were seventeen, Eric. You were drunk, scared, and you walked in on the worst thing a child could ever witness. You snapped, yes. But you stopped. And you’ve been punishing yourself ever since”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but nothing came out. Just another shuddering breath.

“You’re not dangerous,” you said firmly. “You’re hurt, you are in pain and you have convinced yourself that you're this awful monster that you're not”

His voice cracked as he whispered, “What if I hurt you one day? What if someday i wake up and i have turned into him, an alcoholic abusive man who gets his kick from hurting his woman” you placed your fingers over his mouth, you couldn't even bear the thought of him thinking so low of himself.

“You won’t,” you said, without hesitation. “You could never be that man”

“How can you be sure?” he asked, so quiet it nearly broke you.

You reached up, gently pressing your palm to his chest, over his heart. “ I just know you could never hurt anyone like that, let alone me, especially not on purpose, not to inflict pain for fun, you're not your father Eric, you don't have his blood running into your veins, you could never become him.. you're Patricia's son..just her's and you have every bit of the goodness she carries”

He placed his forehead down on yours, a part of him wanted to believe you, believe that he wasn't his father's son but he couldn't deny the truth even if he wanted to. He couldn't ignore reality.

“I don't blame your mother for not wanting you to be with me” he murmured as he picked you up and laid you down on the couch, his eyes bored into you as he took his shirt off, there was a certain intensity in those irises that made your thighs clench in anticipation.

“I do. She doesn't know you, she has no right to judge you like that”

Your breath caught as he hovered over you, the glow from the nearby lamp casting soft amber shadows across the hard lines of his body. His eyes never left yours, not for a second as he slowly leaned down, brushing your lips with his.

You reached up, your fingers sliding into his hair, tugging gently until his lips met yours fully.

“I want you Eric..every little inch of you.”

Something shifted in him then. His restraint broke. His mouth captured yours again, more urgent this time, like he needed the proof, needed to feel how real this was. His hands roamed your sides, tugging your shirt up.

He broke the kiss only long enough to pull your shirt off and toss it aside, his gaze drinking you in. His hand cupped your cheek for a moment, thumb brushing over your skin before trailing down your neck, across your chest, every flick of his touch measured but hungry. He always took his time with you.

You arched under him as his lips moved lower, dragging fire down your collarbone, your ribs, the soft plane of your stomach. When he looked up again, your breath caught at the raw emotion behind his eyes, desire, yes, but also worship.

Like you were something so holy, and he was the last sinner allowed to put his hands on you.

His hands slid down your hips, tugging at your waistband with a kind of gentleness that made your chest ache. You lifted your hips for him, letting him undress you completely, and when he settled between your thighs, his body flush against yours, it just clicked.. you were for him, he was for you.

“You’re everything I never allowed myself to have,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. “Everything I thought I’d ruin with my touch.”

You cradled his face between your hands, pulling him down into another kiss, one that said you're wrong.

“You will never really understand this..but your touch? It heals me..you fix me”

And then he was inside you, slow and deep, both of you gasping softly at the contact. His rhythm was patient at first, exploring, learning you again in every roll of his hips, every shaky exhale. He moved like he was trying to memorize you, like he wanted to replace every bitter memory with the sound of your moans and the feel of your skin under his fingertips.

You held on to him, legs wrapped around his waist, back arching with every thrust, meeting him with the same need. Each movement, each whispered breath and tangled limb, felt like more than just bodies moving.

He pulled out for just a moment, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. Before you could protest, his hands gripped your hips, and in one swift, fluid motion, he lifted you up, maneuvering your body around with practiced strength.

He turned you around and guided you forward, draping your upper half over the backrest of the couch. The plush fabric pressed against your chest, your breasts falling over the edge as your arms braced you, he stepped off the couch, one of his knees still on the couch, he then grabbed your thighs and hovered your lower half in the air with his strong arms, a gasp escaped your throat, you had never been in this position before.

Then without a warning he entered you again, slow but deep, filling you completely. The new angle made you scream his name out loud, your fingers curling tightly into the cushiony head as a sharp, aching pleasure pulsed through you.

His grip adjusted, one arm looped around your thighs, allowing him to move with control, precision, and an intensity that made your entire body hum. Every thrust pushed you slightly forward, but he pulled you right back into him, over and over, melting you in his rhythm

The only sounds were your breathy moans, the creak of the couch, and his low groan as he whispered your name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this moment.

“You feel so good like this,” he murmured, his voice strained, full of awe and hunger.

“Mmmmm ohh god yesss yess yess Eric baby …yess” you moaned out constantly, your fingers digging into the material of the couch.

When you both finally shattered, he collapsed on your back while you slumped down on the couch, breaths heavy, mind numbed, swimming in the sea of pleasure.

“Oh god where did you get that from?” You asked between your breaths, he chuckled as his arm draped around your stomach, he slowly pulled you down on the couch with him.

“I have no idea..did you like it?”

“Like it? I can't wait to do it again” you whispered as you smiled and placed a kiss on his chest, his heart thumping in your ears.

As you fell asleep in his arms, he picked you up as gently as he could without waking you up and then took you to the bedroom to lay you down. As he laid next to you, his fingers gently caressed through your hair.

He knew what the two of you shared was different, something rare, something real, something beautiful. He was grateful you had stayed, grateful for every word you'd said about him being Patricia’s son, because it was true. Deep down, he was shaped by her love, her goodness, she took him in when she had every right to despise him, hate him when he was a constant reminder of what her husband had done to her.

There was a truth he hadn’t spoken out loud, one he was ashamed of admitting even to himself..Because as much as he belonged to Patricia, he was also his father's son. And Not just in metaphors but in blood. The man he almost made bleed to death was also the man whose blood was running through his veins.

😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

When minutes passed you finally took your phone out and went straight to the phone log to call Chance, after a few rings he picked up.

“Hey girl are you alright?” His voice was hushed as he spoke.

“Yeah..are you guys in there.. at the gym I mean?” you asked him so was quiet for a moment as if he was processing what you meant.

“Yeah ..we are -”

“Don't say anything about the competition..just come to the door”

You mumbled sharply before you heard him excuse himself.

“Who's that?” Shelly’s voice rang in the background. A minute later you saw Chance entering from the gym area, you could tell he was surprised to see you.

As he unlocked the door you entered quickly and placed the bag behind the desk..

“What are you ..how's your dad?” He asked, still processing how come you were there.

“He's fine..is Eric in there?” You asked him hurriedly so he placed his hands on his waist.

“Yeah he is..”

You took a deep breath as he said that, then you just stood there in your spot, not moving at all, staring right through him.

“Who else is in there?” you questioned

“The usual..Oh but also Miranda -” you crossed your arms as he said that.

“Who's Miranda?”

“You asked me to not say anything about the competition” you let out a tch sound as he said that.

“Just nothing about winning or losing..who's Miranda?”

Chance scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes darting toward the gym door like he was debating how much to say.

“She’s, uh…” he started, then sighed. “She’s a physiotherapist. Eric’s leg cramped real bad backstage, like full on locked up right before his turn, she was with another competitor. Looked like it was over for him because he couldn't even move, but Miranda rushed up and did something with his hamstring. It worked like magic..he was so grateful he almost cried” he chuckled as he finished but your heart felt that familiar ache you wanted to ignore.

Some other woman swept in when he needed someone, not as if you could have done anything to help him in that situation.

“He was in pain?”

Chance nodded slowly. “Yeah. Real pain. But he didn't want anyone to freak out. He just had gone without water for too long. After Miranda helped, she didn’t leave his side until after the results so in good faith we just invited her to be here with us–.” he hesitated because you didn't want to hear the results.

Your eyes flicked to the glass door, where the sounds of laughter and celebration echoed faintly from the inside.

“So... they’re close now?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chance gave you a look as if you had said something ridiculous.

“Don’t go there. She helped him today, sure. But that's it.. are you okay? He has been tweaking since none of us could get in touch with you for hours.” he asked you, voice filled with concern so you nodded.

You swallowed hard and offered a tight smile.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Just tired”

Chance didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press.

“He’s in his room, Said he needed a breather”

You nodded as he said that, It was ridiculous, you’d traveled all this way, you’d built up this moment in your head, and now you were standing here frozen like a scared kid.

The moment you stepped inside, Patricia saw you, she had a huge smile on her face so you walked towards her and bent down to hug her.

“Oh my god sweetheart we were looking forward to hearing from you..what are you..uhh how are you here already?” You pulled away from her and smiled as she said that.

“I just am.. and I'm glad to be here” you mumbled softly as you straightened up, Shelly then hugged you from behind, Stella gave you a smile and a nod.

“God we missed you so much today”

“Me too” your eyes teared up as you held onto her arms, your eyes then met with the stranger in the room.

Miranda, you couldn't help it, the first thing you noticed was how pretty she was and how fit she looked.

“Hey” you mumbled politely and she responded in the same tone.

“I'll go see Eric”

Everybody responded with a nod as you said that. The moment you stood outside of his room your heartbeat started thumping like crazy.

Taking a deep breath you finally knocked.

“Get in…it's open” you heard his voice, a small smile escaped your lips as you twisted the knob and opened the door just a little. Your phone was buzzing in the pocket of your jeans, it was on vibration but you had a feeling who was calling you.

“She's not picking up..I don't know what's going on, she is not responding to any of the messages either..maybe something happened with her dad, I think i should just go there” he said without even looking at the door, his eyes were glued to his phone, he was shirtless, his hair damp from the shower.

You entered quietly before you spoke.

“I didn't mean to make you worry-” his head snapped up faster than you could blink as he heard your voice.

His eyes were teary as he looked at you, as if not believing that you were actually there.

You closed the door behind you as he got up and walked towards you, he didn't say a word, not a thing, his hands suddenly wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss you.

As your arms wrapped around his neck he lifted you up from the floor, legs encasing around his waist as he pressed you against the door, his mouth never left yours even though both of you needed to breathe .

You had been kissed before, plenty of times, some more passionate than others, but this right here was the most romantic one you had ever had, the kind you felt deep within your soul, from your skin to the bones it saturated you.

Eric then pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, still holding your face like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched. His thumb traced your cheekbones and then the lips, fingertips rubbing over the swollen flesh.

“Did you win?” you asked as you cupped his cheeks. He gulped as he didn't want you to feel saddened or disappointed.

“I did not”

Your heart stopped for a moment as he said that, eyes welled up for him, he had worked so hard for this, he deserved to win. How could he not win?

“I'm so sorry baby”

“It's okay..you don't always get everything you want.. and sometimes you have to wait years to have what you desire..I got something i wanted for years..I don't need anything else” your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him in for a hug.

“But the money?”

“I'll make it..the competition put me out there, being the first 1st runner up ain't so bad..lots of brands reached out and they want to work with me so there is that” he mumbled softly as he placed his head down on your shoulder.

“Okay..are you okay.. please tell me you're okay”

“I am now..i wasn't okay before but I am now” he kissed your neck after he was done speaking, you let out a slight moan as his touch sent shivers down your spine.

“I'm sorry i wasn't there baby”

“Shhhh what are you doing here? How come you're here? How's your dad?”

“We can talk about it later okay? Right now I just want to celebrate you with your family.. I'm so proud of you”

His brows furrowed slightly but he didn't argue, he then put you down slowly.

“Let me put on a shirt” he mumbled as he stepped away from you so you nodded, “I still can't believe you are here.. feels surreal”

“Me neither”

As you both stepped out finally, Chance put on some music.

“Uhh i almost forgot..just a minute” Eric ran back to his room, you and Patricia exchanged a look, wondering what he was upto.

He returned with a bottle of wine, the one you had brought with you that day when you went to Patricia's for the first time.

“Even though i didn't win i couldn't have been any happier as I am right now and I'm so glad i have you guys in my life” you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as he popped the cork with after some awkwardness, the soft pop followed by cheers from the room.

Glasses were passed around. Chance turned the music up just a notch, something upbeat and celebratory, and everyone gathered in a loose circle,even Patricia was moving her arms around. She seemed so happy.

Eric had his arms around you, once in a while he leaned down to kiss your cheeks.

“We are going to talk about what happened, okay?” He whispered in your ear so you turned your head to look at him.

“Just not tonight.. tonight is about you”

“If you say so..want to come home with me tonight?” You gulped at the sound of his voice.

“Mmmhm? Your place?”

“You promised me a dessert” you bit on your lip as he said that.

“Mmmhm i did huh?”

Before he could respond Shelly pulled you in for a dance, you didn't want Miranda to feel awkward so you pulled her along with you.

Eric sat down in front of Patricia's wheelchair, she bent down to kiss the crown of his head as her arms wrapped around him.

He smiled before his eyes hooked on you again.

“Is she alright?” She asked him so he sighed.

“I don't know..she is not talking about it..I'll ask..don't worry beautiful” he said as he turned around to place a soft kiss on her thigh before his attention diverted again, he watched you with a smile on his face.

Now he knew what you meant when you said you wanted to be a dancer, those hips of yours weren't lying. He had never seen you like this so he was pleasantly surprised. For dinner you remembered Eric wanted Pizza so that's what you ordered for everyone. For once you were excited to watch him eat something other than boiled chicken.

Once everyone was tired and ready to go home, Chance took Shelly home, then Eric took Patricia and Stella. You were alone in the gym with Miranda. She wanted to call a can but Eric wanted to drop her home since it was really late.

“Hey..thanks for helping him today” you mumbled politely as you sat down on one of the benches so she looked up from her phone.

“Not a problem..was just doing my job” You nodded as she said that. “He's pretty wound up and intense huh?” She said to you, you wanted to raise your brows but then you kind of got her point. You still remembered how he was with you the first day you came in here for the membership.

Damn!!! Alot had changed since then.

That also made you realise that Christmas was near, and you hadn't lost as much weight as you had wanted to, thanks to the three months self pity hiatus you were on and the five extra pounds you had gained in between.

“He takes his time to open up” you responded to her so she nodded.

“I mean he was grateful after I fixed his leg, every other competitor was intimidated by him though, the winner defeated him just by two points” she chuckled which made you laugh too. Just two points? You really wished he had those points but then he didn't seem too upset about losing the competition, in fact he seemed really happy and relaxed today.

“He has that effect on people”

Miranda lived on the other side of the city but you didn't really mind the long drive with him, in fact you appreciated it. The quiet, the cold wind in your hair, it calmed you down.

“Have a good night” you said as her building arrived so she gave you both a smile.

“You too guys.. good luck with your future projects Eric..call me if you ever need me” She said to him so he nodded.

“Thank you..will do”

He waited until she was inside the building, after a few minutes had passed, he began to drive. You couldn't help but feel so proud of him, he really was an anomaly.

“Stop at mine first, i need to drop the luggage and pick up something special” you winked as you finished your words so he smiled.

“Something special huh?”

“Yup..you will like it”

His cheeks flushed as your fingers curled around his neck.

“So I'm not allowed to ask why you took two flights in a day?”

You sighed as he said that, your fingers kept running over the smooth skin of the back of his neck

“Not today mister”

“Are you okay though..it's important for me to know that”

You smiled as he said that

“I'm absolutely fine”

He didn't press any further , he knew you'd tell him when you'd want to do he wanted to be patient.

“By the way i am on birth control pills..just so you know ” you said nonchalantly, his eyes widened at the sudden steer in the conversation.

“Ohhhhh.. good to know”

You chuckled as he said that so nervously, when your building arrived you unbuckled the seat belt.

“You stay here okay? I'll be back in a flash”

“Your luggage”

“I can handle it.. I'm a big girl…literally” you smiled but he didn't appreciate the joke so you leaned in to kiss him.

“Just kidding.. be right back” he nodded as you said that. His fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he waited for you. Five minutes later you returned with a big shoulder purse.

“Okay let's go” you mumbled as you buckled up again.

He chuckled as he drove to his apartment, the ride was short and filled with comfortable silence. The moment his apartment arrived you unbuckled and leaned into him, searching his pockets.

“Keys mister” you whispered against his mouth, his breath hitched at the sudden proximity.

His eyes flicked to yours, pupils dilating just a little as your breath ghosted over his lips.

“You could’ve just asked,” he murmured, his voice lower now.

Your hand finally dipped into the front pocket of his jeans, fingers brushing the cool metal as you pulled out the keyring

“Where's the fun in that handsome?” you whispered back, brushing your nose against his, you kissed the tip of his perfect nose before pulling away and stepping out of the car.

He watched you walk away, his gaze lingering on the way your hips moved. There was a quiet confidence about you tonight, it made him want to drop down on his knees and let you do whatever you wanted to do.

He took a deep breath before he parked the car. By the time he entered his apartment, he found an item of clothing every step of the way to the bedroom. There was your jeans on the door, then your shirt on the floor of the hallway that led to the bedroom. As he entered he heard the shower running, outside the bathroom he found your underwear and bra lying carelessly on the ground.

A smile graced his features as he took a few steps back and sat down on the bed—but then something hit him.

“Shit—wait,” he mumbled to himself as he quickly stood up again. His fingers fumbled at the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning them with more urgency. The fabric bunched at his knees, and for a brief moment, he did that clumsy little hop trying to get them off, almost losing balance.

“Cool. Real smooth,” he muttered under his breath with a half-laugh.

His shirt followed in one quick motion, flung somewhere near the foot of the bed, and now he was left in just his boxers. The room felt a little too quiet, the sound of the running shower echoing softly from the bathroom.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, then leaned back on his palms in what he thought might look casual and confident, until his arms started to shake slightly from the anticipation, you were taking your own sweet time in there, not that he didn't enjoy it.

He shifted, sat upright again. Then crossed his legs like a school kid and then uncrossed them at the realisation. He went back further but then he sat far too back and it didn't look sexy in his head so he sat back at the edge again and sat in the first position he had tried.

He glanced toward the bathroom door again, hearing the water still running.

Then he glanced down at himself and frowned. He still had his socks on so he yanked them off “Why didn’t I take these off earlier?”

He cleared his throat as the door knob clicked, he sat up straight, trying to appear confident. “Be sexy.. women like sexy” he murmured as he flexed his shoulders, then immediately stopped flexing because it felt ridiculous. “This is not an advertisement for protein powder..relax” he murmured under his breath then he looked down at himself.

And then he felt too naked in just his boxers.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat. A sheer black robe hung off your shoulders, and underneath, delicate lace dress clung to your curves, framing your body in a way that made his mouth go dry. The steam from the shower gave you a soft glow, making your cheeks flushed, lips plump and red from the hot water. Your hair was damp, curling slightly at the edges.

“You…” he cleared his throat again, trying to sound coherent “You look…”

You raised a brow, taking slow steps toward the bed, your arms behind your back, you looked like a present he couldn't wait to unwrap.

“I look…?”

“Like something I might not survive ,” he blurted out, then immediately winced. “I mean..that’s not..I mean in a good way! A very good way.”

You smiled as he blabbered a little, that was so unlike him.

As you reached the edge of the bed, his hands instinctively moved to his thighs, fidgeting a little. He looked up at you with those wide green eyes that flickered between desire and nervous awe.

“You’re adorable,” you teased softly.

“I was going for devastatingly sexy but thanks” he muttered, cheeks flushed as he looked up.

You leaned forward, placing one knee on the bed, your fingers brushing under his chin to tilt his face up.

“You are never not devastatingly sexy” you whispered, smiling. “But honestly? I like this version better”

His breath caught again, but this time, he didn’t try to hide how nervous he was. Not as you climbed onto his lap, not as your lips brushed over his neck and certainly not when your hands settled on his chest, right where his heart was pounding like it was trying to hammer out and reach yours.

He looked up at you, like he was memorizing every inch of your face. Like he was scared this moment might disappear if he blinked too long.

You could feel the tension in him, the way his mouth stayed open, the way his eyelashes blinked rapidly, his eyes glassy as if he was high, it was not just lust. This wasn’t just sex. Not for him. Not for you either.

Your fingers slid slowly down from his chest to his stomach, watching the way his jaw clenched, how he tensed under your touch. You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth.. your touch soft, lingering, just enough to make him chase the rest. And he did. His lips met yours with hunger, like he was still figuring out how much he was allowed to take from you, you could stand naked in front of him and he'd still not believe his luck.

When your hips shifted and settled fully onto his lap, he groaned against your mouth, hands gripping your waist like he needed you to stay grounded.

“You okay?” you whispered against his lips, voice almost a moan.

“Yeah. Just… I have never felt like this.”

You cupped his cheek, gently turning his face back to yours.

“Me neither baby.”

Something in him eased at that, and he kissed you again, deeper this time, more certain. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers tracing over the lace you’d worn for him. He exhaled shakily as he looked down, then back up at you.

“You’re so… God, you’re such a beautiful woman i..i want to say so much but i am–” your eyes almost moistened at the words, the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, his words didn't sound shallow, he didn't say sweet things because he wanted something from you. He just did. For no reason.

“So are you Eric…so beautiful it hurts” you murmured, your fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder, down his arm, his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

As you kissed him again, you felt him melt into you, his body arching instinctively to yours. One of your hands slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers. He gasped into your mouth as your hand wrapped around his cock, his head lulled backwards, you let out a gasp as he swelled more and more in your palm.

“Good you're so -” you couldn't even finish your words as you began to pump him slowly “Is this okay?” You murmured in his ear so he nodded.

“Touch me yes..keep touching me baby”

His hands trembled as he grabbed the strings of your robe and untied it, pushing the robe off your shoulders, letting it fall behind you. His mouth latched onto your neck, sucking on the skin that you knew would leave a mark that you'd wear shamelessly tomorrow.

He grabbed the hand that was underneath his boxers and wrapped your arms around his neck, his own hands crawled under your slip dress, fingers moving upwards as he caressed his fingertips over the wet soaked fabric of your underwear.

You shuddered as he pressed his thumb over the clothed clit, your brows scrunched together as began to move them in circles.

“Ohhh Eric…oh baby..i..oh god” you let out a strings of moans, your mind already lost in the haze and the build up of the sweet sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes rolled back in your head as the tension coiled up slowly. 

“God Eric i have never felt this ..thing before..aaaa ahhhhhh” 

His name on your lips lit something inside him.

Something that had been restrained, something he didn't even know he was capable of feeling, raw, primal feeling of wanting to claim you as his completely overcome any other thoughts he might have had in his head.

He watched your face twist in pleasure, your hips bucking gently against the slow circles he was drawing over your clit, and something inside him snapped.

The hesitation, the shyness, the inexperience , they all melted away.

Eric’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenched slightly as he exhaled through his nose, suddenly shifting forward to press his chest against yours. His mouth found your neck again, this time not soft, not timid, but claiming. His teeth grazed your skin and you gasped, clutching at his arms as he rolled his hips against you with delicious pressure, even through the remaining fabric between you.

“You have no idea,” he growled softly against your ear “What you do to me… how long I’ve wanted you like this.”

His hands clutched around the straps of your dress, lowering it down with a confidence that hadn’t been there before, he bunched the sheer fabric between his fists before pulling them over your head. Your underwear followed next, hastily shoved down your thighs and tossed aside. You reached for his boxers, and this time he helped, lifting his hips and kicking them away without shame.

He then flipped you around, underneath him, kneeling between your thighs as his eyes roamed over your body, trailing from your flushed face down to the soft curve of your belly and fullness of your breasts. He then stopped for a moment.

Not because he was unsure. Not because he hesitated.

But because he was in awe of you.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss just below your collarbone, then lower, his hands sliding reverently over your waist, your hips, the softness of your stomach. He held you like you were precious, not something to be hidden or changed, but adored.

“You’re so…” he whispered, voice thick. His lips ghosted over your skin again. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are, do you?”

You felt your breath catch, the comment made you feel conscious for a moment, insecurity filling you up.

“Don’t look away,” he murmured, so you didn't..

Because the way he was looking at you? Like he wanted every inch of you, like the softness of your stomach, the fullness of your thighs, the generous curve of your breasts weren’t flaws, they were exactly what he craved. It made your heart twist and your body ache with arousal all at once.

He kissed you again, slower now, deeper—before sliding his hand down your side and hooking your leg up over his hip.

You felt the tip of his cock grazing over your entrance, your back arched into his chest. 

“Eric make me cum..please”

Your words fueled his desires even hotter if it was possible. When he eased slowly inside you, you felt every inch of his girth opening you up slowly. He was definitely blessed from head to toe. You couldn't even believe at times that a man that looked the way he did was interested in you like this.

He let out a gasp in your ear as your walls clamped around him like a vice.

Eric stilled for a breathless second, buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours as your bodies adjusted to each other. He didn't want to ruin this, he wanted to give you what you craved. 

Your hips shifted slightly, drawing him deeper, and that was all it took. He pulled back slowly, almost reluctantly, before rolling his hips forward again, deep but unhurried, savoring every movement. You clung to him, nails grazing down his back, your head falling back against the mattress as pleasure bloomed through you..

Every thrust was deliberate, slow and sensual at first, his body moving with  grace. He kissed down your jaw, his mouth finding the soft place beneath your ear as he whispered.

“Tell me what you need… I want to give you everything”

He asked as if he wasn't spoiling you and ruining you already.

“You’re already giving it to me,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “Don’t stop. Please… just like that..oh yess that's it..that's it baby.”

And he didn’t.

He angled your hips up slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made you cry out, your thighs trembling as your leg curled tighter around his waist. His hand slipped between your bodies again, fingers stroking your clit in time with his thrusts, building the pressure inside you to an impossible edge. He watched your face, lips parted, eyes glassy with lust and it pushed him harder, deeper.

“You’re close,” he whispered, breath ragged against your skin. “I can feel it… Let go, baby. Give it to me” 

Your body obeyed him before your mind could, the orgasm slamming into you in waves so powerful you cried out his name, over and over, as your walls tightened around him, never in your life before you had come like this with a partner so this was an awakening.

 Eric groaned, his rhythm faltering as he clutched you against him, driven over the edge by the feel of your walls clenching around him, milking his own release.

He came with a gasp of your name, he chanted it like a prayer, buried deep inside you, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

Saying that it was good for both of you would have been an understatement. It was heavenly, it was something you wanted to keep doing over and over again, you didn't even know how you were going to keep your hands off of him from now on, especially in public. He was yours and God you never wanted to do anything that would take him away from you. 

As the tremors faded he pulled you into his arms, you placed your head down on his chest, for a few minutes none of you said a word, just the sound of your breathing echoed in his bedroom.

“Was that good for you?” He finally asked, there was a hesitation in his voice as if he hadn't just made you almost pass out from the intensity of it.

You pressed your head up as you smiled before you leaned down to kiss him.

“I hope you're ready for me to become the clingy obsessive touchy girlfriend men don't usually like” Eric laughed softly, the kind of laugh that vibrated through his chest. He looked at you like you’d just offered him the world on a plate.

“Clingy?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Obsessive? Touchy?”

He pulled you tighter against him, his fingers splayed across your back, bare skin to bare skin.

“I want that. All of it” he said. “God, if you don’t cling to me after this, I might start doubting myself.”

“Mmm glad to have the permission, not that i needed it” 

He chuckled before he kissed your forehead.

“Let me clean you up..then we can cuddle” you smiled a little but the moment he stepped off the bed, your eyes teared up, he was so different from anyone you had ever known, especially the asshole you had been with for the past two years. The jerk that rolled off your body the moment he was done getting his pleasure.

You didn't want to think about him though so you watched Eric’s sculpted behind as he made way to the bathroom.

“I'm going to bite it someday..yup” you murmured to yourself before you laid back down on the bed. 

After cleaning you up he scooted next to you and held you in his arms.

“I was going to say this the moment I saw you today Eric but better late than..well later” he chuckled as you said that. 

“What?” he asked.

Not really expecting the confession so early in your relationship with him but then he felt the same way too.

“I love you Eric.. and I think I'm only going to love you deeper, harder and better every passing day..so a little heads up” 

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

As your phone began to ring you stepped away slightly to pick it up from the table, it was your mom again, you weren't going to pick up and instead focus on comforting Eric but then a message popped up.

Mom : Dad got into an accident and is in hospital.

Your eyes widened as you saw the message and immediately called her back.

You asked if he was okay but she was crying profusely and asked you to come back home for a few days as it was really serious with him, then she quickly hung up.

“Everything okay?” Eric asked as he placed his hands on your shoulder.

“I don't know, she said to come home immediately” his brows furrowed in worry as you said that. “I ..i uuhh i don't know what to do..I promised i would be there Eric..with you-”

“Hey shhh it's okay..as much as I'd need you tomorrow.. I wouldn't ever want you to not go when your family needs you..I'd do the same thing if it was me in your place -”

“So should I go?” you asked, eyes filled with tears.

“Of Course..your dad is in the hospital” he mumbled softly as he kissed your forehead to calm you down.

“I really wanted to be there with you” you finally burst into tears so he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly.

“I know..i know that..i still got you and that's enough” he paused as he caressed the back of your head “besides i might not even get a chance to compete-”

“No..don't say that..you will get the chance..they can't take that away from you”

He gave you a small smile, he didn't know his fate but your confidence in him was endearing to him.

You had to go home and pack so you kissed him goodbye, the flight to Indianapolis was at 6 in the morning. Eric promised you that he'd come to your apartment after closing the gym.

You didn't want him to stay up because he needed his rest for tomorrow but there's nothing you could have said or done to convince him otherwise.

At night you called your mom again to get the updates while you packed but she hung up quickly , stating that your father was unconscious and she was really worried. When the doorbell rang you skipped your steps to the living room. The moment you saw him your arms wrapped around him.

“Did you get a call from the federation?” You asked him so he placed his forehead down on yours and smiled. There was your answer. You knew the universe wouldn't be so cruel to him.

“Oh thank God” you mumbled softly as you kissed him. You didn't want him to lose this opportunity after he had worked so hard for months.

“Can I use your shower? I stink” he murmured softly, making you chuckle. He smelled like his body spray as usual but you wouldn't deny him a shower and a chance to stare at his shirtless, wet body afterwards.

“You can use anything you want in here” you grabbed his arm as you led him to the bedroom..

“The bathroom is here” you showed him the door so he looked at you for a moment before he took his shirt off, staring right into your soul through your eyes but yours had drifted down the moment he had grabbed the hem of his shirt. There was something undeniably erotic about the way his sculpted body looked..the sharp cut of his V-line, the veins tracing down his arms, the way every muscle seemed carved with detailed intention. You knew he was dehydrated to the bone, yet he looked insanely good. You weren’t even sure what the judging criteria were for a physique championship, but one thing was certain, he already looked like the winner.

He cleared his throat as if to say my eyes are up here.

“Damn you look like a sculpture Eric” you mumbled as you moved to the closet to grab a towel for him. There was a flush on his cheeks caused by your words, he was used to being called hot, Regina did it alot but hearing it from the woman he had secretly adored for years just hit differently.

As he went to the bathroom you fanned yourself a little to calm down before you finished the rest of the packing.

“All done?” He asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, the towel hung around his neck as he used the edge of it to dry his hair.

“Yeah..I'll come back as soon as my dad is fine so I'm not taking much”

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he approached you from behind, his arm wrapped around your waist so you placed your head down on his chest, his skin was damp and cold-

“Did you take a cold shower?”

“Yeah I always do that.. helps with the soreness and inflammation..don't change the topic”

You turned around as he said that.

“I just hope he will be okay..I'm not ready for anything to happen to him” you mumbled softly so he grabbed your chin and leaned down to kiss you.

“He'll be fine.. I would accompany you if it wasn't for the competition” your eyes teared up as he said that.

“You would”

You weren't asking, you already knew, a part of you also knew he'd drop everything if you'd ask him to go with you.

“I just wished i could have been there for you tomorrow Eric..it's the only thing bugging me..apart from the obvious anxiety I have for my dad”

A small smile curved the corner of his mouth, your words made him feel warm even though the situation was stressful.

“You will be there, you don't have to be physically there to be there with me or for me..you are here” he placed your palm over his chest, his heart beating fast.

You immediately got on your tiptoes to kiss him, soft at first..slow and lingering until the tension exploded. His arms wrapped around you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your fingers found their way into his damp hair.

He deepened the kiss, lips crashing over yours like he'd been holding back for far too long. And he had been. Years and years he had watched you from a distance, admiring you, adoring you, never having the courage to actually speak to you, let alone dream of kissing you, but this was his reality now and it was so beautiful.

You moaned softly into him as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his touch hot against your skin. You could feel the carved ridges of his torso pressing into you, the way his chest rose and fell as you kissed him deeper, longer, desperate to burn this moment into a memory before the morning would take him away from you.

“Eric…I don't want to stop” you whispered against his lips, breathless.

“I know,” he murmured back, his voice thick with emotion and want. “I don’t want to stop either but I don't think I'd want you to leave my sight after we make love for the first time and then every time after that”

He said the sweetest things, you didn't even know how to deal with that at times.

You ended up tangled in each other on the bed a few minutes later, legs intertwined, your head on his shoulder as his fingers lazily traced circles on your back. His skin was still cold, and every now and then you stole a glance at the way the veins curved down his arms, pronounced, almost too perfect to be real.

Then you looked up at him innocently.

“Can I ask you something weird?” you mumbled as your fingers traced that particular vein that ran from his forearm to his bicep.

“Always.” he let out a small giggle.

“Can I… lick it?”

Eric blinked, startled for half a second before the corners of his mouth twitched into a boyish, amused grin.

“What?”

“Your vein..They’re just… right there. And they’re doing something to me” You shrugged, biting your lower lip.

He laughed, really laughed, his chest shaking, his forehead pressing to yours.

“Baby, I might have to start flexing all the time”

“Mmmm can I do it please? Once..want to feel how they'd feel over my tongue” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his collarbone, then slowly dragging your lips along the path of the vein down his arm, making him suck in a breath.

“You can do whatever you want with me” you smiled before your tongue slipped out.

His breath hitched, your tongue barely grazing his skin. His muscles twitched under your touch, and he exhaled shakily, the sound somewhere between a groan and a gasp. You could feel the bulge growing underneath his sweatpants.

“Shit” he muttered under his breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You let your tongue follow the line up, from his forearm to his bicep, slow and deliberate, until you reached his anterior delt, you sucked on the small but protruded vein running sideways on his delt before licking a stripe. His arm wrapped tighter around your waist as he pulled you flush against him again, lips seeking yours hungrily.

This kiss was heated now, his restraint unraveling thread by thread.

“You're unbelievable” he growled softly into your mouth, making you moan.

All the times you have heard that phrase before in your life has been said to put you down so this felt as if it had healed something broken inside of you.

“I have thought about this for so long..waited years to have your attention on me. And now you’re here...on top of me..licking my veins”

You laughed breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he flipped you underneath him.

He dipped his head down, lips trailing a blazing path along your jaw, then your throat before he placed his head between your chest and rested to calm down the growing arousal and the giant erection between his legs.

“Mmm give me your phone I'll set an alarm”

Alarm was set on your individual phones, you didn't want to keep him up all night, he already had a tough day and he had even a bigger one tomorrow so after dinner you cuddled him to sleep. The anxiety regarding your dad and the upcoming flight didn't let you drift off.

When the clock hit 3 you quietly sneaked out of the bed, wrote a note for him to wake up to and then grabbed your bag to leave for the airport.

You didn't think you were ready for the airport goodbyes with him just yet.

He needed his sleep for the big day so you had set his alarm accordingly.

When Eric woke up to an empty bed around 7, his hand reached out instinctively, patting the crumpled sheets, your scent still lingering around him. A sinking feeling replaced the calm, relaxing sleep he had just awakened from. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair, his brows furrowed.

It was too quiet in your apartment and that could mean only one thing.

Then his eyes fell upon the folded note resting on the pillow beside him, so he picked it up, his eyes tearing up even before he had read the first word.

"Eric, Baby

I think I'd like to call you that too :)

I know I should’ve awakened you to say goodbye, but I couldn’t. You needed your rest, and I didn’t want to mess that up, not today, not when you’ve worked so damn hard for this.

I’m scared, I won’t lie, about my dad and about being away from you. But I feel stronger than I’ve ever felt, and I think you're the reason for that. You have no idea how at peace I am at the moment, knowing that when I come back, you'd be here.

I left the spare key to my apartment on the kitchen table. My place is a few blocks closer to the gym than yours ;)

If you want to stay there while I’m gone, feel free baby. Mi casa Su casa.

I was hoping to help you cover those tattoos today but since I can't please send me the picture after you're done covering them up, I'm sorry i gave you one more thing last night to cover up ;) ”

He chuckled between the tears as he traced his fingertips over the hickey on his neck.

“But it's not my fault you're Adonis incarnate. You’ve got this today. You'll do your best, I know, if you get nervous just think of how you're doing this for Patricia and to make Mr. Kronos feel proud up there but most importantly think of yourself because you deserve that.

Like you said, I’m with you, even if I’m not there. Always remember you don't have to hide from me, nothing would ever change how precious you're becoming to me with each passing moment.

All the squats to you ;) see what i did there? Call me after the event, you're already a winner.

Y/n”

Eric exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile even as his heart ached with the absence of you. He pressed a soft kiss on the note, letting the silence of the room wrap around him.

*******

Around 3 you finally reached Indiana, grabbed your luggage from the baggage claim and immediately took the cab to go to your parents' house. You wanted to go straight to the hospital but your mom wanted you to keep the luggage at the house first and that made sense.

You unlocked the phone and there was a message from Eric sent an hour ago. The competition was about to commence in an hour or two in LA so you knew you won't hear about it until later in the evening due to the three hour time difference.

Eric : And for you baby. You're a part of my motivation too now. Never forget. Text me when you land.

You smiled as you read the message even though the closer you got to your parents house, the more anxious you felt.

You : In the cab now. Send me a picture.

As you reached the house your mother opened the door for you, you immediately hugged her in order to comfort her but she seemed..fine? On the phone yesterday she sounded so hysterical, that is what had kept you up at night.

As you stepped into the living room your eyes fell upon a familiar looking bag but it could have been just a coincidence.

“Somebody is here?” You turned to ask her so she gave you a smile before she grabbed your arm and took you to her bedroom.

The moment you entered you saw your father on the bed so you immediately ran to hug him. You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of him looking much better than the horror you had been imagining in your head but then the relief was replaced with a confusion.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, stepping away a little from him.

“I'm fine..just a broken ankle that will take a month to heal” you looked at him, the cast on his ankle was visible but overall you couldn't see any other injuries on him.

As you turned to your mom to ask why she had made it seem as if he was in the ICU or something was when you heard the bathroom door opening and saw someone step out. Your blood ran cold as your eyes met with him.

“The moment I informed him he came immediately to see your father.. isn't that sweet of him??” You looked at your mother as she spoke incredulously. Anger was building up slowly in your veins.

“Yesterday you called me and said dad was in a huuuuuge accident...hugee”

“He was ..he fell down the stairs..it was really bad-” your jaw clenched at the nonchalant response.

“Yeah but he's fine..why did you .. and what the fuck he's doing here?” Your voice raised slightly as you gestured towards Jake, not bothering to even look at him.

Your mother blinked at your sudden outburst, clearly taken aback, but you didn’t care. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Jake stood awkwardly near the bathroom door, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes cast down like he was trying to play the part of a misunderstood good guy. As if he hadn't cheated on you and made you feel not enough for the past years.

“Don’t talk to me like that” your mom snapped, a little sharper than necessary. “What is this behaviour? You should be relieved that your father is okay”

You crossed your arms as she said that, eyes tearing up with anger and the feelings of betrayal combined.

“It's not about that…of course I'm relieved he's okay but why did you make it sound like he was dying or something” you shot back at her.

“She just got worried, you know your mother” your dad said quietly from the bed, trying to ease the tension between you two.

“She called me crying, saying you were seriously hurt and in the hospital and that doctors were worried you won't make it” you said, your voice cracking just a little. “I left everything. I missed Eric’s competition. He wanted me to be there and I promised him I would, and I—” You stopped yourself before you could go further, before your voice would give out completely.

There was a long, heavy silence in the room before your mother sighed deeply.

“I didn’t mean to exaggerate” your mom said, not quite meeting your eyes. “I was just... scared. And I didn’t want you to wait to book a ticket.”

“You manipulated me into coming..because you knew about his competition…you're chronically online” you said, your tone flat and filled with disgust at the same time.

“Let's not even discuss that murderer in our house” she said quietly.

Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, your lips parted in disbelief, as the tears rolled down your cheeks you quickly wiped them away.

“What did you just say?” you asked, voice trembling, not from fear, but fury.

Your mother didn’t flinch. She crossed her arms, lifted her chin slightly, and repeated,

“I said, let’s not discuss that murderer in our house”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Unbelievable” you muttered, shaking your head slowly. “You don’t even know him”

“I know enough,” she snapped. “I looked him up. I know what kind of people you’re surrounding yourself with now. Seriously y/n going from a man like Jake to that mongrel -”

“Enough..that's enough” you raised your voice even louder, even your father who usually preferred to intervene and side with her didn't say anything this time. “You google searched him and that makes you believe that you know him? And you think you know…himmm?” You said as you pointed towards Jake again.

“We are your parents..we are worried about your rash decisions”

“Worried?” you cut in “So your solution to being worried was to manipulate me with a fake emergency and then invite my cheating narcissistic ex to play house here with you two?”

“He came for your father..you should be grateful” she responded, making your jaw clench shut.

Jake shifted in his spot but you continued to ignore his existence.

“Eric isn’t a murderer or a criminal” you said, your voice shaking with rage and pain. “He has been through hell, he might not be perfect in your eyes but he’s kind, and he’s good to me, and he’s more of a man than this pathetic excuse of a man could ever be” you snapped at last.

“Woah I didn't come here to cause problems or get insulted ...repeatedly” Jake intervened but you didn't respond, you barely let out a scoff.

“Honey please stay..we need you..let me just talk some sense into her” your mother said to him so he nodded before stepped out of the room.

Then she turned to you.

“That man of yours,” she sneered “with his tattoos and his temper, he looks like he crawled straight out of a jail cell. He’ll ruin you. Just like every bad decision you’ve ever made”

You blinked in disbelief, the venom in her words hurt much worse than ever before.

Maybe it was because you were finally starting to stick up for yourself and what was important to you.

“He will not ruin me” you said quietly. “Believe it or not but he's the one fixing me slowly..fixing what you both have ruined”

Silence fell over the room again. Your mother’s lips parted, maybe to defend herself, maybe to deny it but you didn’t give her the chance.

“All my life, you made me feel like nothing I ever did was good enough, I was too fat, too short, too talentless , nothing I ever did made you feel proud. You never cared how I felt, you just cared about how I looked from the outside and i thought that was right, that it was okay to be treated that way so i starved myself at times in the hope that i wouldn't embarrass you two at a family functions.

And then i found a man, a relationship and I got comfortable for once and the moment i did he began chiding me for it, insulting me for gaining weight and I kept thinking that it was okay for him to do it because he was worried about me..because if my parents treated me the same way all my life so it must be okay for him to do that too..right?” Your voice cracked as eyes filled with tears, but you didn’t stop.

“And now that I’ve found someone who sees me for who I really am…someone who cares about me, someone who stood up for me when nobody else did, not even your so called Jake, for once I'm genuinely happy and that bothers you .. because if I'm happy and not sharing my troubles with you then what will you get to complain about?”

She looked away, and your father finally spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Y/N... please... let’s just calm down.”

You turned toward him, your voice softening for a second.

“I am calm, Dad. I’m calm enough to know I’m not going to stand here and listen to her insult my boyfriend when all he had ever done for me is make me happy, he's the reason I am starting to look at myself in the mirror and not feel disgusted by what I see and you two wouldn't even give him a chance because he has a past”

Your father looked down, his face heavy with guilt, like he was realizing for the first time in his life just how much you had kept buried and how much his actions had hurt you. But your mother still didn't meet your eyes. Her arms were crossed tight, like she was trying to shield herself from your words, words that were finally cutting deeper than she'd expected.

“I gave up something really important to be here,” you continued, voice firm. “Eric was counting on me. I had promised I’d be there for him but I'm not and I'll never forgive you for this” you said as you turned to your mother again.

“Forgive us? We raised you. We sacrificed for you. And this is what we get?”

“No” you said firmly, stepping closer. “You raised a weak spineless girl who thought she only deserved love when she was perfect.. I'm not that girl anymore”

“You’re being so dramatic y/n..good god” she muttered, but her voice had lost its bite.

You didn't answer her but turned to your dad one last time. “I’m glad you’re okay. I really am. But I’m not staying here for now, the lying wasn't enough she had to go bring the man who slept with god knows how many women behind my back”

Your mother scoffed as she heard that

“So you’re going to run back to him now when you just got here? You think he's a saint? That he won't be with other women behind your back? That's what men do-’” your mother spoke again but she was cut off.

“Honey stop-” your father interrupted her “That's enough”

His voice was the final nail in the coffin, your mother looked at him as if she couldn't believe it that he was speaking against her and taking your side.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jeans so you took it out.

Eric : Tats all covered up.

I wish you were here to do this but Chance did a great job. How's Mr. Y/l/n? Mama wanted to speak to him, I hope he's out of danger, let me know and send him best wishes, don't feel pressured though, just let her know how he is, she was worried.

Your eyes welled up even further as you read his text, this was the man that your mother wanted to demonise because of what he had to do to protect his mother from the monster of a father.

You typed a response and pressed send before you walked towards your dad to hug him again.

“I'll visit soon..i just really need to be there after he wins”

You said to him so he nodded. You walked past your mother, not even looking at her, in the living room Jake kept staring at you as you grabbed your luggage but you wanted to pretend as if he didn't exist, no words could have hurt him more than your ignorance of his existence would. He thrived on the attention he got from belittling you and you never wanted to give him that satisfaction ever again.

*********

“Hey …is she seated in her place?” Eric asked as Chance came backstage to see him.

“Yeah don't worry..Shelly and Stella are there with her”

Eric nodded but then his phone buzzed so Chance gave it to him.

You : You're so beautiful in every way. My dad is fine..I texted Patricia. Network is a bit messy here ..if I'm unreachable don't worry please.

Can't wait to kiss every little inch of your godly body 👅;)

He read the message, a blush crept across his cheek at the last line and for some reason he could tell you were hiding something from him.

******

On the other side, you had booked a flight already for the 8 at night, you'd land around 5 as per the LA timezone. You weren't going to tell him anything until he was in front of you.

You needed him face to face because you were going to tell him the truth, tell him how you were falling so deeply in love with him.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️