#good slave

She Didn't Melt

She didn't melt

beneath my touch.

Skin forgets.

Hearts remember.

She melted

the moment she realized

my hands were never built

to cage her—

only to catch her

when the weight of the world

became too much to carry.

She had spent a lifetime

standing alone,

mistaking survival

for strength.

So I made her a promise

without speaking a word.

If the night came for her,

it would find me first.

If the storm learned her name,

it would have to answer to mine.

The world feared

the wolf behind the mask.

She feared only

the thought

of facing another dawn

without him.

And that was the moment

her guarded heart

stopped fighting the darkness.

Not because I commanded it.

Not because I deserved it.

But because,

for the first time,

she knew

she would never

have to face