#reader discretion is advised

Step Four Once you’ve shown her that there’s no escape, you have to make sure it sticks. For a more effective lesson, we recommend a punishment that fits the crime. The severity of the punishment should be more than a typical infraction. 

He had let you stumble blindly through the woods for a day and a half. No food, no water, just you in your bare feet and terror. 

When he got tired of waiting and watching, he started to tease you. Let you hear him cough from across a clearing. Let you hear him take out a doe not far from your hiding place. Waited until you risked stopping to take a piss to step out from behind a tree and drawl, “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Let you run to the soundtrack of his raucous laughter. 

Let you run right into a snare, strolling lazily up to where the fishing wire had you caught by the ankle. It was twisted, for sure, and there were tears in your eyes. 

He scoffed. “Oh, baby, crying over that?” He rolls his eyes. “That’s gonna feel like a paper cut in about, oh… two seconds.”

And he swings the bat. 

He nestles ear plugs in snugly before cutting the wire and hauling your screaming, writhing body over his shoulder. 

When he tires of your blabbering, he shoves a dirty rag in your mouth and ties a bandana around your head, cinching it tight. You still bawl and whimper, but it’s quieter now, so he can keep an ear out for danger.

As if he isn’t the most dangerous thing in this forest. 

It’s almost embarrassing, how little time it takes to get back to the cabin. How little distance you’d managed to cover.

Or it would be, if you could think about things like being embarrassed. Your shattered ankle takes up most of your headspace, though, That, and the nauseating terror as he speaks casually of your impending lesson.

“Told ya,” he says with a shit-eating grin, “you shoulda prayed I didn’t find ya. Don’t worry your dumb little head ‘bout it, though. You’ll learn. You’ll never want to try and run from me again.”

His tone says he’s going to take you home and wrap you in fluffy blankets, serve you hot cocoa with marshmallows, and win your heart.

His eyes say you’re going to wish for death instead of freedom.

He was tired of your screaming and struggling by the time he’d carted you back. “Toughen up, baby, ‘cause I’m just getting started. I gave you a chance to be good and learn. Now we’re gonna do things my way.” 

He plopped you on your feet just inside the house, laughing as you tried to cling to the only thing nearby—him—to avoid putting weight on your rapidly swelling ankle. Your little fingers didn’t stand a chance as he peeled them from his shoulder, giving you a little shove in the process so you fell flat on your ass. 

“Stand up,” he barks. “Now.”

You shake your head, sobbing in renewed agony. 

“No?” he says incredulously. “Ya think you can tell me no? Stand the fuck up.”

He doesn’t wait, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you to your feet. He rolls his eyes when you fall again.

“Fuckin’ pathetic. You gonna do what I say, or do you need a lesson?” 

“I can’t,” you gasp, yanking the bandana down and the rag from your mouth. “It—”

“Did I say you could talk? Shut up, or I’ll give you something to really cry about,” he says out of habit, and then thinks. “Well. Something extra to cry about, anyway.”

He tries to pull you to stand again, a smirk on his face as you predictably hit the ground once more. “Tell you what. You beg me right, and I’ll let you stay off that ankle.”

“Please,” you choke out, and he gives your ankle the lightest tap with the tip of his boot, sending you howling in pain.

“Please what, you ungrateful brat?”

“P-please, sir…”

“Better, but you know what? I think I wanna hear you call me somethin’ else. Try that again, baby, but this time, say, ‘please let me crawl, master.’” There’s a strange look on his face, but you haven’t the state of mind to contemplate it. 

His words make your stomach churn. 

He takes your hesitation as disobedience and yanks you to your feet again.

“Please! P-please, let me c-crawl…” you stammer with a quivering lip. 

He raises an eyebrow.

“Please let me crawl, master,” you whisper. 

He drops you to the ground. “Mmm, yeah. I like the sound of that. Sure, baby, you can crawl for me. What a good little pet you’re being. I almost wanna reward you for that… but you’ve got some more lessons to learn first.”

The only thing better than the miasma of fear that dogs their steps is the blood they bathe in when unleashed.

Kayn makes a disgusted little noise.

"Messy." he mutters under his breath, the little hypocrite.

You love it. Rhaast tells him, because Kayn does. Rhaast lives in his head, his heart and guts and very fucking soul, he can tell when the brat is filling himself up with the sensation of blood drying sticky and thick on his bare skin.

Kayn doesn't answer him, just flicks his head so his hair thumps against his back, accompaniment to the discordant thrum of emotions he's not even trying to hide from Rhaast.

The denial, the smug pride, the professional detachment, the part of him that aches to scream, the part of him that aches to kill.

Rhaast presses a sense memory into his head.

The last twitches of a dying body, claws deep in the intestines. Those things don't die easy, the muscles writhe and contract around their hands. The thing below them, their kill, breathes their last, and Rhaast smiles down, stroking a thumb gently through the cavity they ripped open from sternum to groin.

Don't you love it, baby? he asks. He thinks of stroking Kayn that way, deep inside.

Kayn shudders.

“Hey there Princess. Do you remember me?” The demon had you by the throat, a knife pointed just under your chin. Little did he know, you had your angel blade hidden up your sleeve. You just needed to wait for the perfect moment when was distracted.

You scowled at the demon. “All you demons are the same, nothing but dirt.”

“That’s funny. I guess we’re the same then.”

“I am nothing like you,” you hissed.

“You’re right. You’re lower than dirt. You’re nothing. What other reasons could there have been to justify why your parents abandoned you? You were a nuisance. They knew you were going to grow up to be a failure, and look at that, you did. You’re a failure. You’re always disappointing everyone, including the Winchesters. And do you think they want you around? Oh, sweet Princess, you’re nothing more than a tool. You will never be good enough. You were never good enough for your parents and you’ll never be good enough for the Winchesters, or anyone for that matter. You see, they’re the heroes, and you, well sweetheart, your expendable. Haven’t you learned from your past? No one needs you. No one wants you. All you bring is trouble. If you don’t see it now, you’ll see it later, and more in the future to come, if you have one. Why don’t you join me? It’ll be fun. I’ll take you under my wing and maybe, just maybe, I can bring you up from nothing, to the dirt under everyone’s feet? That way you’ll have the minimum bit of meaning to your existence.”

Frozen in your spot, you missed Dean’s cue to kill the demon. And when you had realized it was already too late. Dean cursed as the demon dropped you to the ground and ran away, giving him enough time and the perfect opportunity to call for back up.

Dean finally pulled into the garage of the Bunker, slamming the door shut as he got out of the Impala. He didn’t even bother looking at you, grabbing his bag and entering the bunker. You couldn’t blame him. You were the reason everyone almost got killed. You glanced over at Sam who averted his eyes and slung his bag over his shoulder, before making his way into the bunker.

You sat there in the back seat still and quiet. You had failed them just like the demon said you would. He was right.

Your parents left you when you were a 13. One day they had told you that they have been doing some heavy cleaning, getting rid of things they no longer needed or wanted and was going to the city dump to properly dispose of them. When they never returned you realized that all the things they were planning on “throwing away” were all of their favorite things. They had taken all their valuables and clothes and left you behind. A few weeks later when you didn’t show up for school, the police had come to your house. And with your parents no where to be found, social services came into the picture. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse for you at the time, it did. You were thrown into foster care.

It was hell.

The family that had taken you in were horrible. Your experience with them was terrifying. They started off nice, but then things went south quickly. The man of the house would go into your room to give you a kiss goodnight, but it was weird and uncomfortable. You were sure that grown men wouldn’t give their teen daughters good night kisses on their lips, shoving his tongue down their throat.

The kisses went on for a while until it eventually got worse. He would touch you in places that made you feel uncomfortable. He had threatened you to keep quiet when you told him no. His fingers touched you in places that were wrong, but you were too scared to do or say anything.

The most haunting memory you ever had was when he forced himself on you. You screamed for him to stop but he didn’t listen. You noticed that the door was cracked open and the wife was standing there, watching. She let her husband violate you and take away your innocence. You didn’t know what you could have done to deserve such pain and defilement. After that night you hated yourself. You truly believed that the world had hated you and that you were nothing. You were just an unwanted, broken girl, that would never amount to anything nor mean anything to anyone. You were a lost cause.

The day you ran away while you were at school felt like the closest thing to heaven you ever had in a long time. You ran away from that abusive family and ran away from the bullies at the school you were attending. You ran as fast and as far as you possibly could, which was how you met your first demon and saved by the first hunter you’ve ever met… John Winchester.

He was the first person to ever show you compassion and respect. He took things slow, kept a good distance away from you to make you feel comfortable. He was the first decent person you’d met since the end of your life. There was something about him that told you that he could be trusted.

After making sure that you were safe and okay, he gave you some money and sent you on your way. He told you to “take care of yourself,” which were the first kind words you had heard in a long time, and it was those words that you held close to your heart in order to keep on fighting. After your encounter with John, you made a decision to be just like him… to become a hunter.

Finally breaking away from your thoughts, you grabbed your own bag and headed into the bunker, going straight to your room. The door shut behind you and you immediately locked it. You dropped your bag ungracefully, standing in the middle of your room. You felt sick to your stomach, feeling completely hopeless. You really were useless. Dean had given you one job and you couldn’t fall through because you were weak. You put yourself and everyone else in danger. You had put Dean and Sam in a position that shouldn’t have happened. You were the reason they got hurt on this hunt. It was all your fault.

The thoughts swirling in your head only got darker and you could feel your heart racing. You were furious with yourself for being such a failure and a disappointment. You were useless! No one needed you! Everyone would be better off without you!

“Dammit YN! You said you could do it! You put all of us in danger! You almost died!” Dean shouted from the driver’s seat of the Impala. “I told you to focus on the mission, not to let that manipulative demon get into your head!”

You shrank in the backseat of the car, knowing that Dean was right. Everything he said was right. This was all your fault. You knew that the demon was more manipulative than most, and you told Dean and Sam that you could do it, that you were strong enough, but in the end, you messed it all up. They got hurt trying to save you and trying to fend for their own lives. You were worthless.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“Sorry? No, you don’t get to be sorry. You said you could do it. We trusted you and you let us down. I can’t even look at you right now. You almost got yourself killed! What if I wasn’t there to stab the son of a bitch? I can’t lose you too!” Dean spat.

You glanced over at Sam only to watch him turn away from you. But before he did, you could see it in his face. You could tell that he agreed with his older brother and you could also see the disappointment in his expression. You had disappointed both of them.

Your eyes shifted to your desk filled with pictures of you and the guys. Unable to look at the smiling faces staring back at you, you closed your eyes and screamed in frustration as you blindly swiped your arms across the table, sending everything flying and crashing to the wall and floor. When you opened your eyes, the room had gone blurry. You hadn’t even realize when you started crying.

Even more frustrated that before, feeling like you’ve fallen on a whole new level of weak (because you were crying), you started to go on a rampage. You were shouting and flinging things across your room, creating utter chaos.

Banging came from your bedroom door and you could hear Sam and Dean shouting from the other side. You couldn’t even comprehend what they were saying, too intoxicated with rage and hate for yourself.

“Go away!” You wailed, throwing a picture frame of you and the boys at the door.

“Y/N, open this door!” Dean ordered, the pounding on the hard wood louder than ever.

“Leave me alone!” You screeched as you recklessly shoved your desk against the door, creating a loud bang and making the guys flinch from the other side of the wooden barrier.

You continued to yell, saying things that put yourself down. When everything in your room was practically destroyed, you let out one last piercing scream as you punched the wall, instantly busting your knuckles. You cried hysterically welcoming the pain. The pounding on the door fell silent and all you could hear was your racing heart beat.

Soon the pain miraculously subsided and you felt completely numb. Your eyes shifted around the room scanning your handiwork when the small handgun that you kept under your pillow, came into view. It was just lying conveniently on the floor like it was a sign. You crawled over to it, grasping it in your hands. Life wasn’t your thing, so maybe you should just end it? No one really cared and no one truly liked you. All you were and all you’d ever be was a failure, a pest. You were nothing and meant nothing to no one, so why not do everyone a favor?

On the other side of the door, Dean and Sam were frantic. They could hear you screaming and things crashing all around the place. The words you were shouting were incoherent from all the crying you were doing and muffled by the door keeping them away from you. They were only able to pick up a few words here and there, all of which were extremely unsettling. Fear consumed them, worried that you would hurt yourself or worse.

“Dean, we need to get to her!” Sam bellowed, voice shaking.

“You don’t think I know that?” Dean yelled, lunging his body against the door. “Y/N, open the damn door, please!” Dean begged, ramming his body continuously. He could already feel the bruises litter his arm and the whole side of his body. Dean only stopped when he noticed that things had suddenly fallen silent. Dread sank in for both brothers and Dean went running off.

“Dean! Where are you going?” Sam shouted.

“To find something that will break that damn door down!” Dean retorted as his figure disappeared around the corner.

Helpless, Sam began to carry on what Dean had been doing earlier. He lunged his body against the door, noticing that there was a crack in the middle. Dean had made a dent without even realizing.

With new found hope, Sam continued his pursuit to break the door down. After a few more tries, he broke through, creating a big enough hole to stick his arm through. Slipping his arm through the door, he unlocked it and attempted to push it open. When it didn’t bundge, he realized that your desk was blocking the way. Using more of his strength, he was able to shove the door open along with your wooden desk.

Sam’s heart nearly stopped when he saw you standing in the middle of your shattered room bringing the gun to your head. It was the click of the safety that flicked a switch in him, rushing his way towards you without a second thought. He smacked the gun out of your hands, eliciting a gun shot as you accidentally pulled the trigger. Your body gave way, but Sam caught you before you hit the ground, tears streaming down his face.

“Y/N!” Sam shouted.

“Let go of me!” You whimpered, trying to push him away, shuffling backwards until your back hit the edge of your bed. “Leave me alone,” you mumbled as you brought your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and dropping your head down. Sam just stat there stumped. He didn’t know what to do or how to help you. He was still shaky from catching you trying to kill yourself. “You guys are better off without me,” you croaked, Sam’s eyes narrowing down on you.

“What are you talking about?” Sam moved closer to you, but still kept his distance.

“I ruin everything. I’m useless. That demon was right. I’m nothing.”

“Don’t say that. That demon was lying. That’s what they do.”

“What reason did he have to lie, huh?”

“He was trying to distract you, and it worked. It’s not your fault. He played with your mind, played with your emotions, and that wasn’t okay.” Sam assured.

“No. Dean gave me one job, the job that I told him I could do, but I failed. I failed him. I failed you. Not only that, I put you guys in danger. It was all my fault that you and Dean got hurt.” The tears began to fall again. “Dean hates me,” you chocked.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat when he heard the words that slipped passed your lips. He hid beside the broken entrance when he heard you and Sam talking. He couldn’t bring himself to walk in, at least just not yet.

“Dean doesn’t hate you,” Sam assured.

“He does, I can tell. I saw the way he looked at me back there, and I’ve got every word he’s said playing on repeat in my head along with that demon’s. Also, even though you didn’t say anything I could tell by the look on your face that you were disappointed in me too. I always fuck everything up. I don’t deserve to be alive, I’ll never be good or worthy enough for anything,” you cried, your body now shaking. “All I want is to be enough. Is that too much to ask?”

“Y/N, you are enough. You are more than enough. We all make mistakes. You made a mistake, that’s all. You’re not the only one. Dean made a mistake by taking his anger out on you, regardless if it was his fear driving him to do so. Even I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have ignored you. I should have stood up for you. I knew Dean was being harsh and I didn’t stop him. I’m sorry.” You didn’t know when Sam had gotten so close, but when he wrapped his arms around you, you welcomed it. You buried your head into his chest, allowing the comfort he was offering. “Dean and I care a lot about you. You are part of our family.” Dean took this time to step in, Sam’s eyes meeting his. “I’m gonna go get the first-aid, okay?” You nodded stiffly, groaning inwardly at the loss of warmth.

As Sam left the room, you noticed Dean walking towards you. You stared up at him apprehensively, not knowing what he was going to do. Was he going to yell at you some more? When Dean took a step closer, you flinched, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. Seeing you this way was heartbreaking. He never meant to make you feel that way. He was the biggest dick to you.

“Y/N, is it okay if I sit next to you?” Dean’s voice was soft and delicate, not at all what you were expecting. Completely caught off guard you nodded in response. Dean cautiously approached you and sat where Sam was sitting earlier. His head tilted to the side as he took in your battered form. Your hand was bloody and he could tell that there would be scars.

Guilt washed over him. He hated himself for pushing you to a place in your head where you thought that he hated you, that you had to… that you felt like you were better off dead. Dean couldn’t live with himself if you killed yourself over the stupid and meaningless things he said. At the time he said those reckless things, he was high off fear that he could have lost you, and that terror came out as anger, which he took out on someone he loved dearly… you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted.

“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have said all those things I didn’t mean. There is no excuses for what I did. I just got so scared when that demon had you in his arms, that blade digging into your skin while I helplessly watched.”

“No. I promised that I could live up to the plan. I begged you to let me do it and in the end, I ruined everything. I could have ended it right then and there but I let the demon get to me and lost my chance. If I wasn’t so weak and killed the demon like we planned, we would have all been home safe and sound. I am so sorry Dean,” you croaked, new tears streaming down your face.

Dean’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against his side. Your body instantly slumped down in comfort, taking refuge in his warmth. Dean felt different from Sam. Sam was warm and safe, but Dean was like a fireplace on a dead winter’s night. He warmed you throughout your every being. Dean was safe like you were untouchable, like a safe haven.

“Like I said, I shouldn’t have said all those things. I was just scared and I’m sorry. I really care about you. When that demon douche said all those things, I was furious. I knew he got to you. He was manipulating you by hitting you where it hurt the most. If I’m being honest here, he was also tormenting Sam and me. Then when he called his demon pals and he had his hands all over you for the second time… I couldn’t. I was so pissed at myself for not being able to help you. I was pissed for letting myself get pinned down by those black-eyed sons of bitches. When Sam screamed and I saw that first bead of blood drip from your throat, I lost it. I don’t know how I got free, but I did. All I saw was red and… well, I’m just glad we’re all home safe. Just promise me that you’ll understand how much you mean to me. I need you here with me. No matter how mad I get, no matter what I say, I will always care about you, alright? I will always need you. We will always need you.””

Silence filled the air for a few seconds before you nodded, fresh tears escaping down your cheeks. “Thank you, Dean. And I really care about you and Sam, too.”

Dean arm around you tightened in reassurance. You curled into him not wanting to ever leave the safety he provided. You didn’t want to leave the safety that both of them provided.

“Sweetheart, don’t ever let anyone get you down, not even us. I know that I can be a dick sometimes but your life is priceless. Me, Sam, and Cass would do anything for you. You’re strong, beautiful, compassionate, and so much more. The world needs people like you. I need you. And you know what? No one is perfect. Not me, not Sam, hell, not Cass, but that’s what makes us human. You are enough, so don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” you sniffed.

“Good.”

**Extended ending**

Silence settled in once again, and without any thought, the words slipped passed your lips in a shallow whisper.

“I love you.”

“I know,” Dean rested his cheek on the top of your head.

“No, I’m in love with you,” you restated. Your heart was pumping, almost about ready to leap out of your chest and run away from rejection.

You felt Dean’s grip on you loosen before falling away completely. Knowing that you were about to get turned down, you shut your eyes regretting your confession. However, your eyes snapped open when your chin was being lifted up. Soon you were staring in to bright, jade, eyes staring deep into your soul.

“I know, me too,” was all he muttered out, his voice low, before pressing his lips to yours.

I can’t angst very well, so feedback is appreciated! (leave feedback here)

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Step One Once you’ve selected the perfect girl, make arrangements to bring her home. Remember all the elements of a successful acquisition: stealth, strength, and speed. Follow the tips in Appendix B to avoid unwanted attention. 

He’d been looking for a girl like you. A dumb little thing who no one would miss. He had everything else he wanted — his land, his cabin, his truck, his guns. Everything his shriveled old heart could want, except a warm cunt. 

And, admittedly, he was just a little lonely. Not enough to want to be around people more. No, he made his chit-chat on monthly shopping trips.

The townsfolk liked him an awful lot. Sure, it was mostly pity, but he’d fixed enough fences and done his part at a few barn raisings. Always asked Billy at the hardware about his grandkids and tipped Sheila generously at the cafe. Kept the boys at the Sheriff’s department flush with venison and took care of any mountain lions that wandered too close to the residential areas. 

He heard them whisperin’. Poor Old Man Miller, what a sad bastard, living by himself out in the woods since the accident. 

You’d stayed at the little motel for a night, and seemed to have moved on in the morning. 

Seemed to. 

What was left of your shitty, banged-up little sedan was in his tertiary barn. Your shitty sedan, an old truck he’d been halfway through fixing up a long time ago, and the remains of another truck covered by a tarp (which, in turn, was covered by a thick layer of dust) in the back corner. 

A little graveyard of sorts.

He’d known when he saw you sippin’ coffee in the diner. Eyes darting around you, clearly put off by the dinky little country town you’d stumbled across for the night. All alone and so sweet. So fuckin’ pretty. You were perfect. 

And by the next night, you were his.

You’d been just passing through. But you’d driven through the night, and now that it was the next afternoon, you knew you had to call it soon. The only thing around was some pit stop of a town; all huddled around the off-ramp on the south side of the mountain pass. A Holiday Inn was nestled behind a gas station, and you couldn’t tell if either were really open. 

The Speedway was a success, doing yourself the favor of filling your tank tonight so you could hit the road at first light with no extra stops. The Holiday Inn, however, was way out of your budget. Luckily, on the other side of the highway was a dinky motel and a cute little diner whose neon sign was speaking all the right words—and those words were “24-hour breakfast.” 

As expected, there weren’t too many people inside. It was dubiously clean and probably was a nice place fifty years ago. Now, the Formica tabletops were cracked and stained. The bench’s vinyl cover was ripped, but you didn’t mind any. Not when you can smell eggs and pancakes already.

There was a grizzled man at the counter with a cup of black coffee. His dark eyes narrowed and followed you, sending spidery shivers down your neck. You ignored him, even though he kept looking at you while you ate. Every town had its old perverts, and so long as he didn’t try anything, you’d forget all about him by the next day.

Or, you would have. If only he hadn’t been the one to pull you from the wreck of your little Toyota after that pickup drove you off the road. 

She was about to press the doorbell when her father placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Sweetheart, are you sure nothing happened when I was away?"

The young girl frowned at the tone in her father's voice. She knew how much he had tried to make her feel welcomed in his home. Alas, he was never the problem.

She turned to him, giving him a genuine smile despite her sadness. "Yes, dad. I'm sure. But..." She trailed off, biting her lip in worry.

"You miss your mother."

The girl nodded.

"Okay," he said, caressing her cheek softly.

Daphne turned back to the door, pressed the bell and waited. It didn't take long for the door to be opened. The young girl rushed to her mother's arms as soon as she spotted her.

"Mama..." The girl sobbed, burying her face on her mother's soft night robe.

"It's all right, darling," Mary cooed, kissing the top of her daughter's head. "Say goodnight to your father and go upstairs."

The young girl pulled away from her mother and turned around to hug her father. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, dear."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, my dear. Sleep well."

Once Daphne disappeared from view, Vincent spoke up. "My apologies for waking you up in the middle of the night. She couldn’t sleep and kept calling you. I didn't know what to do."

"Don't worry about it. She can be a handful sometimes."

"Mary, I—" His brows furrowed as he searched for the words. "I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"If you think I can help, sure. What is it?"

"I'm trying to get closer to her, but every time I think we made progress, the next moment it feels like we didn't. It's been four years. What else do I have to do to be worthy of her love?"

Mary took a moment to steady herself. She had no doubts he was a wonderful person. But to see him so eager to earn Daphne's affection reminded her of the man she fell in love with.

"Vincent, if you think she doesn't love you, you're sorely mistaken. But she's not as outgoing and loquacious as your son. Sometimes she keeps her feelings to herself because she needs time to understand them."

"Oh..." He nodded in understanding. "What do I do then?"

"Be patient. She'll come to you when she's ready."

"I'll try."

Mary couldn't help but smile. It was sweet of him to try, yet she knew he'd struggle to succeed. After all, impatience was one of the many traits their daughter took after him.

"Have a goodnight, Vincent."

"Goodnight, Mary," he replied and returned to his car once she closed the door.

As time passed by, the young girl's gloomy behaviour didn't change. If anything, her mood got worse at each passing day. Soon, her parents and friends began to worry.

"Daphne?" She opened the door to her daughter's room and frowned as she spotted the young girl curled up on the window sill staring blankly at the sky. "Your father called again. He wants to know if you're still joining him and the boys on the trip to Edgewater."

"Okay..."

"Is that a yes?"

The girl gave her shoulders.

Mary inhaled sharply. "Daphne, you don't have to go. But you need to tell me so I can understand what's going on."

"There's nothing to tell, mum."

Yet, the dull tone in Daphne's voice told her otherwise. Fortunately, she knew just exactly what to do.

"We have a guest today and I prepared biscuits. Do you want to go downstairs and join him?"

"Whatever..."

"That was mean..." A young male voice commented. Disappointment was clear in his tone.

Her eyes widened as she immediately recognized the voice.

"I'm sorry, dear. I think she's not in the mood to see anyone again," Mary said, closing the door to Daphne's bedroom.

Again?! He was here before?! Her brows knitted together in a frown.

"Okay..." The voice replied.

Everything went quiet for a moment. But as she heard steps, Daphne rushed to the door and opened it. "Wait!" She yelled.

To her surprise, she found her mother grinning whilst her friend leaned against the wall nonchalantly.

"Impressive!" Mary praised.

"Thanks, Mrs. Wang."

"Have you thought about joining the theater at school, Hamid?"

"I haven't. But if a talented actress like yourself thinks I should, I'll add it to my list of options of clubs to join next year," he answered.

"Well, aren't you a charmer?" Mary chuckled. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"Okay." He then turned to his friend. "Hey, stranger," Hamid greeted her with his trademark smile that seemed to get more mesmerizing as the boy grew older.

"You played me!" Daphne gasped.

"I had to. You didn't show up at school, you’re taking forever to text me back, you cancelled movie night on Sunday, you didn't open the door yesterday... Should I go on?"

Daphne shook her head, avoiding his gaze. "Sorry..."

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing..."

"Liar..." He murmured.

"Hey!"

"You are. You said to Briar you were sick and you're not. You're lying to me right now. Why?"

"It isn't like that, Hamid. I just..." Daphne looked down at her hands. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. Then we will not talk on the way to Ernest's house."

"What? You're not mad?"

"I'll save that for later because right now we're going to have a Dance Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero competition and you're my partner. Mrs. Wang already gave you permission, so hurry up."

"I don't know, Hamid..."

"Daph, look at me," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to talk about whatever happened this weekend at your dad's. I just need you there with me."

She eyed him confused. "How do you know it's about my dad?"

"Wild guess..." He shrugged.

"But how do you know it?"

"Because you always get upset when you visit him."

The girl chewed on her bottom lip. She didn't want anyone to think her father was the reason why she was upset. She was happy to be close to him. The problem was everyone else.

"I mean it. You don't need to talk about anything if you don't want to. But I miss my best friend," he said with an encouraging smile.

"I thought Yusuf was your best friend..."

"I have two best friends. You're my best girl friend."

"Girlfriend?" She eyed him in confusion.

"As in two separate words, Daph. You're a girl and my best friend," he corrected.

"Oh!" Now it makes sense.

"Anyway, you'd better go grab your coat. They're going to start in fifteen minutes, there are gelatos at stake and only you can beat Ann on Through the Fire and Flames solo."

The girl chuckled and went back to her room to change clothes and join her friends.

Hours flew by whilst the group of kids played video games and junk food. Laughter and occasional spats could be heard by anyone who passed by Mr. Sinclaire's townhouse. But given how loud the kids were, the Master of Ledford Park was obviously not at home. Fortunately, whenever he finds out about his son's little gathering, it'd be old news that his wife would make sure smooth things over.

Unluckily, the fun afternoon grew a little tense when Daphne's half brother arrived. Much like his mother, Harry was often rude to his older sister and always found a way to make it clear she was an intruder in his family.

"Ah, damnit..." Briar mumbled as she watched Daphne and Hamid finish the song of the round with perfect score.

"Briar!" Annabelle chided.

"I told you not to say it out loud," Edmund mumbled.

"But I am frustrated!" Briar nagged.

"It's all right. Briar is a sore loser," Daphne teased and grinned as her friend responded by sticking her tongue out.

"Cheater..." Harry grumbled.

Daphne's head whipped towards her half brother's direction. "What did you just say?"

"I said you're a bloody cheater because it’s what you always do. You cheat!" The boy sneered.

"You're talking gibberish, Foredale. Settle down," Hamid said, in an attempt to end the argument.

"Oh, excuse me. Are you talking to me or to her?" Harry stood up, lips twisted in a scowl. "Because this bastard cheated her way to my home and stole not just my father, but my name too."

Gasps spread through the room as Harry glowed at his sister, whose face reddened as anger pumped through her veins.

"Mate, don't." Edmund warned.

"Am I wrong?! She and her mother are ruining our family!"

"Harry, stop it!" Annabelle chastised.

Daphne could feel herself being pushed to the limit. She heard those offences more than once, but tried to hold back at school or her father's house to avoid getting in trouble. But this was a neutral ground and Harry had gone too far. "You take that back!"

"Take it back?" He sniggered in a way that reminded her so much of the countess.

"Harry, you'd better stop insulting Daphne right now or you can see yourself out of my house," Ernest warned.

"If he doesn't, you don't have to call security. I'll kick him out myself." Hamid glared at Harry.

"Why are you all defending her?!" Harry shouted.

"Harry, stop it right now!" Briar yelled.

"You know what? I don't care!" The boy spat and turned to Daphne once again. "Your mother is a homewrecker and you're a bloody cheater. Do I have to say it louder, you little bastard?"

With her features clouded by rage, Daphne stomped into Harry's direction with her hands balled into fists only to be held back by Hamid. "Shut the fuck up, you dickhead!"

Whilst Briar and Annabelle stared aghast at Daphne fighting against Hamid's firm grip, Harry was about to raise his hand when Ernest and Edmund stopped him. To prevent things from getting worse, Hamid carried the furious young girl out of the house, making sure to cover her mouth in case she had more bad words to say.

Once they arrived in the backyard, Hamid sat Daphne down on a patio chair and glared at his friend. "Are you mad?! You can't drop F-bombs like that just because there are no parents around. What if the staff heard you?"

The girl didn't say anything or look him in the eye. Instead, she simply bit down her lip and fiddled with the buttons of her coat.

"Daphne?"

Worried that he could have been a little too harsh, he crouched down to look at her and spotted the tears rolling down her cheeks. Without a second thought, he sat beside her and wrapped her in a tight hug.

Hot tears ran down her face. Tears she had been holding since Saturday night, when she was at her father's townhouse. But she couldn't control them anymore. So she just hid her face on her friend's chest and cried.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

"Why? It's not your fault that my brother is an arsehole."

"Daph..."

She pulled away from his embrace and scowled. "Don't look at me like that. I've seen you say a lot worse when you're watching football matches."

A small chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm not judging..." His smile quickly faded as images of what happened earlier came to view. "This fight with Harry... He's the one who upsets you when you visit Lord Vincent, isn't he?"

"Yeah…” She sniffed. “But he's not the only one."

Hamid clenched his fists. He only had the misfortune of meeting Countess Henrietta a couple of times, but it was obvious to him how much she disliked Daphne. The young girl disrupted the image gentry folk had of the Foredales and she could be a threat to the countess Henrietta's sons. "Harry is a spoiled brat. We just tolerate him because of Edmund."

"But he still is my brother. I always wanted a sibling and the only one I have hates me."

"You don't know if he really hates you. For all we know, he's just repeating what the countess says. You have all the reasons to have to hate him and you don't. Why would he hate you?"

The young girl gave her shoulders. "I don't know... But I know I don't want to spend the entire summer with him."

"And you don't have to."

"But dad wants me to go to Edgewater with them. What should I tell him?"

"The truth."

"I can't!"

"Daphne, your dad has to know why you don't feel comfortable staying in his house."

"But what if he gets mad at Harry? Or his mom?"

"That's their problem. Besides, he's going to find out about the fight anyway."

Daphne's eyes widened. "Oh my god, it's true! Bollocks..."

The boy failed to suppress a laugh.

"What? Oh..." She covered her mouth with both hands.

"It's fine. You know I won't tell."

The girl nodded and rested her head on her friend's shoulder.

"I just wish I could've protected you from all of this mess..." He sighed.

"You can't protect me from everything, Hamidciğim."

He draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close once again. "But it doesn't mean I won't keep trying."

Istanbul, August, 2020

Daphne was pulled out of her reverie by her body suddenly being pushed forward and held back by the seat belt followed by a loud honk. The taxi driver began to yell in Turkish and gesticulate things to the other cars then glanced at her through the rear view mirror.

"I'm sorry for my language, miss. These Sunday drivers never learn..." He shook his head and twisted his lips in a sneer.

"It's all right, sir."

For a moment, she was thankful Hamid told her to fasten her seat belt at all times whenever she’s in Turkey. He did try to protect her as much as he could from anything that could potentially hurt her. Yet, he was never so good at stopping her from hurting herself.

London, 2016

Daphne's fingers slowly hovered the keys of Lady Dominique's grand piano as Chopin's Prelude in E minor came to an end. Applause erupted in the room. But given how the professional musicians playing since the beginning of the night didn't earn the same attention from the guests, she knew most of those praises were insincere. Still, she looked at the crowd applauding her and bowed her head.

The young viscountess walked around the lounge unamused. The reception was anything but a party most teenagers would expect to host. Instead of a pub crowded with people her age flashing their brand new IDs to get wasted, dance or make out in dark corners, Daphne was surrounded by British politicians, nobility and gentry folk at her father's opulent lounge. Obviously, this wasn't her idea of a party to celebrate her graduation. Or her father's. But at some point in her life, she stopped butting heads with her grandmother. It was easier to simply smile and concede.

After making her rounds to mingle with the guests, Daphne excused herself for a moment and stepped outside. Sitting down on the patio chair, she looked out at the dark moonless sky embellished by the stars. Spring night breeze softly ruffled some locks of her hair when her back and shoulders were covered by a large coat that smelled just as good as its owner.

"I knew you'd be here," Hamid said as he sat down next to her and handed her a champagne flute. "Congratulations, canım¹."

"Thank you."

They clinked glasses and took a sip of the light gold bubbly drink.

"I didn't expect you to be here tonight," she began.

"Why?"

"You're a Cambridge student now. I thought you'd be at a nightclub with your girlfriend and uni friends."

"I still prefer the company of my best girl friend."

"I don't think your girlfriend would approve what you just said," she hinted.

"Fortunately, I no longer have to worry about that," he said before taking a long sip of his champagne.

"Did you break up with Ida?"

"No. She broke up with me."

"What happened?"

"What always happens... " He sighed.

"Hamidciğim, a relationship will only last if you open up to your partner."

"I'm aware of it. But I'll only do it when I'm in a relationship with someone I truly love."

Daphne turned to him, studying his features. "That was the problem, wasn't it?"

He nodded in silence.

"Aw..." Daphne intertwined her arm with his. "Someday you'll find a girl worthy of your love. And she'll be the luckiest person ever."

He smiled ruefully, avoiding her gaze for a second. "Enough about me. This is your night, viscountess. What are your plans for the summer?"

"I don't know..."

"You don't know?" He stared at her confusion. "This is your last summer before you get overwhelmed by textbooks, deadlines, posh fabrics and creepy mannequins at Central Saint Martins. We have to think of something."

"Not all mannequins aren't creepy."

"So was it just the ones in your old bedroom?" He teased.

She elbowed him playfully, making him laugh. As they grew quiet, she began to speak. "I thought about going on that trip I told you about the last time you were here."

"The one where you'd visit the cities and opera houses your mother sang in Europe? That's fantastic!"

Her lips curled upwards. He obviously would love that idea. He was the impulsive one of all her friends. It was one of the many things she adored about him. "I just wanted to do something fun with no worries about etiquette and tabloids." Her smile weakened as she continued. "But it was cooler in my head when Annabelle and Briar were coming with me..."

"They bailed on you?"

"Ann got an opportunity to take a summer course in Sussex and Briar will stay here to help Mrs. Daly at the bakery."

"Oh..." He went silent for a brief moment then spoke again. "I can go with you."

"It's all right. You don't have to... It was a silly idea..."

"No, it isn't. I know how important this trip is to you and I'd love to be there with you."

Her heart fluttered at the idea. Ever since her mother passed away, traveling to visit the seven cities Mary sang in her years as an opera singer was Daphne's biggest dream. The thought of having her favourite person beside would make this journey even better. Alas, Hamid has always been a popular guy. He certainly had other plans and chances were neither of them included her.

"Hamidciğim, it's okay. Really. I know you must have other plans. Besides, I was going to ask for a refund or reschedule anyway."

He immediately made a disgusted face in response. "That's a preposterous idea! You're so not doing that."

"Hamid, I don't want to impose..."

"You say it as if it'd be such a burden to travel across the best cities in Europe with you. We're going, Daphne. Accept it," he said with a playful grin. "Now stop with this nonsense and help me get my train tickets."

Daphne agreed with a smile watching her friend produce his mobile from his coat to buy the train tickets.

...

Amsterdam, 2016

It was quarter to three in the morning when the taxi rolled to a stop in front of the Ambassade Hotel. Daphne, however, barely noticed anything that happened during most of the night after the "new friend" Hamid made at lunch insisted they should try a pink heart shaped pill at the nightclub. Of all the many impulsive and silly acts she could choose to make whilst traveling abroad, getting high as a kite was the dumbest one.

"Daphne?"

Struggling to open her eyes, she shifted on the backseat.

"Daphne, wake up. We're here."

"Mmm?" Her eyes fluttered open, she smiled. Somehow, in the dimly lit backseat of a car and with her foggy vision, she could see him clearly. And he looked as handsome as ever. "Hi..."

"Welcome back, canım. Are you okay?"

"Yes..." Her grin went wider and she slid closer to him, rubbing her face on his chest in a cat-like way.

"Uh... Okay..." Caught by surprise, he failed to hide a smile, but proceeded to hand his credit card to the driver. "Here you go, sir."

"Oooooh! Platinum card!" She enthused. "You're so posh, Hamidciğim!"

"So are you. You paid for the drinks tonight, remember? Thank you," he said once he received his card back.

"Oh, that's right! I have one of those too!"

"Yes, we're indeed very posh and fortunate. Now let's get you out of here." He then climbed out of the car and helped her get out.

"Bye, mister driver!" Daphne waved.

With one of her arms around his shoulder and supporting her by the waist, Hamid brushed the loose strands of her face, tucking them behind her ear. His brows knitted together as he gazed at her in worry. "How are you feeling?"

"Sweaty, tired…” She squinted her eyes, trying to focus. “You look blurry..."

"It'll get better. How about nausea? Chills? Hallucinations? Do you feel like you're going to faint?"

"No… I'm fine, Hamidciğim, you don't have to—" But as she took a few steps forward, her legs weakened. Still, she never hit the ground. Holding her close to his body, Hamid's arms wrapped around her legs and back and hoisted her up, carrying her into the hotel.

"You're so strong..."

"Did you realise it just now?" He asked once they stopped before the elevator.

"Nah..." She said as she pressed the button to call the elevator. "Everyone in school knows you're strong. The highlight of the day was when you took off your shirt after a match. All the girls and some of the guys swooned every time you did it."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Everyone missed those moments."

He stepped into the elevator, still carrying her.

"Daphne?"

"Mmm..."

"Press the button to the floor where our suites are. My hands are kinda busy here."

"Oh!" She giggled. "Sorry..." She looked at the elevator control panel as her brows furrowed as she tried to remember the right floor.

"It's the eleventh floor, Daph."

"I knew that..." she scoffed.

For some reason, he chose not to make a joke about it. Instead, he changed back to the previous subject.

"Daphne?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you miss seeing me shirtless as well?"

"No." She made a face, offended by the idea of her objectifying him the way the entire school did. "I miss all of you."

His forehead creased in surprise.

"You are incredibly handsome. But the most beautiful part of you is on the inside," she explained, poking his chest with her index finger.

"Why thank you."

"Don't mention it..." She said between yawns, resting her head on his shoulder. "You changed your cologne."

"I did. This is the one I use at night now."

"I like it... It's so you."

"Really?"

"Yeah..." She replied, using the hand resting on his neck to caress his hair. "Do you remember that expensive wine we stole from Edgewater cellar four years ago?"

Goosebumps spread along his skin at the gentle touch, but he still seemed impassive. "Yes. What about it?"

"You smell like that wine..." She paused for a moment, thinking of the words as her fingers continued to idly caress the back of his head. "Sweet, strong, enticing..."

He didn't say a word, but it was obvious that he looked surprised by her compliment.

Just then the elevator doors opened and they stepped out of it, walking towards Daphne's suite.

"I still prefer the smell of your aftershave though."

"Do you?"

She nodded. "It smells like summer mornings on the beach. Fresh, warm, invigorating..."

"I didn't know that..."

"Now you do."

Once they stopped by her door, he put her down, but still held her. "Can you find your key card on your own?"

"Huh?"

"The card that opens the door, Daphne."

"Oh..." She opened her clutch bag and fished out her ID and three different cards, including the one that opened the door to her suite. "It's one of those, isn't it?"

He pressed his lips together, fighting back a grin. "Yes. This one." He pulled the key card from her hand and placed it inside the lock. "You can put the other ones back in your purse."

"Okay..."

Hamid leaned her against the wall and released her for a moment to open the door only to see her sliding down. "Allah kahretsin²..." He mumbled as he bent down to help her.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault. It's mine. It's all my fault..." He said as he picked her up from the floor and carried her inside.

Once they were finally inside the suite, he sat her on the bed and went to the bathroom. When he returned, he had a glass of water and her toiletry bag in his hands. "Drink."

She obeyed without questioning.

"What do you use to remove makeup?"

"Makeup wipes and a cream..." She said, placing the glass on the nightstand. "It's that package." She pointed to the product and reached for the makeup remover cream. "Thank you. Now turn away."

"Excuse me?"

"Turn away."

"Why?"

"Because I look ugly when I remove my makeup. I don't want you to see it."

His lips curled up. "I highly doubt you'd ever look ugly."

"You're saying it because you haven't seen it."

He chortled. "Okay." He then turned away and waited.

"Hamid?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you say it was all your fault?"

"Because it is. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have met Amani, went to that dodgy nightclub, drank that much, had a Molly..."

"No, it wasn't. I told you to get her number. I told you to go out with her. You didn't want to leave me here, so you had to take me with you so I wouldn't feel alone."

"I didn't have to. I only went out because you agreed to go out too. By the way, I'm pretty sure Amani wanted both of us."

"She did?" She stared at him unsure of what he was talking about, but as he gave her a knowing look, she understood. "Oooh... Really?"

"Yep."

"Okay..." She giggled. "She would be very disappointed though. I mean, what could a bloody virgin like me do that would please a runway model and Cambridge's hottest bloke?"

"I'm not even going to comment on that..."

"Of course you won't. You're too much of a good friend and a gentleman to admit you wanted to bring me back here then go back to end the night with her."

"I..." His brows furrowed, as though he was truly struggling to understand her. "No. What I meant is that we could've stayed here. Or just went out somewhere else," he insisted.

"But you wanted her. And it's fine! I get it. I was the stupid one who took a Molly in hopes that my best friend would want me more than he obviously wanted that insanely gorgeous girl."

"What?!" He turned back to face her.

"Don't look at me!" She snapped.

Startled by her tone, he faced away from her again. "Why would you think I don't want you?"

"Because you don't. You always date these tall and beautiful Muslim girls, who also happen to be way more fun, successful and mature than I am."

"Daphne, I—"

"Save it, Hamid. I don't need your pity or excuses. I know it's not going to happen. You're off limits," she spat.

He turned back to look at her once again. "What are you talking about?"

"I have to wash my face."

"No, you have to answer my question first."

"No, I don't!" She tried to stand up, but once again, her legs gave in.

And one more time, he promptly held her. "Daph, I told you're too weak to walk on your own now. You have to wait until the side effects fade away. Come on, you need to sleep."

"No. I have to wash my face first!"

"Fine..."

Taking her to the ensuite, he held her as she washed her face and brushed her teeth. They exchanged glances through the mirror a few times, even though she tried to avoid them.

She shouldn't have said anything, but it slipped. As "the fun" side effects of ecstasy began to fade, she only had the bad ones still going. And among them, a feeling she didn't foresee began to emerge.

When they returned to the room, he helped her out of her clothes, put on her pyjamas and tucked her into bed.

"Are you leaving?" She asked.

"No. I'm staying with you tonight."

"Then come to bed."

"I"ll just crash on the couch..."

"Please?"

He nodded and proceeded to remove his jacket, shoes and shirt. After placing them on the chair nearby, he crawled into the king size bed, keeping a respectful distance from her.

"Daphne, I still need to know what you meant."

She let out a tired sigh. "We have different lifestyles, goals in life... You still see me as the little girl you need to protect. That's why you don't want me."

"Canım, you got it all wrong. I don't—"

"I know it can't be. And it's okay."

"Daphne, please..." He shifted on the bed to gaze at her. "We need to talk about this."

"We really don't, Hamidciğim," she whispered, cupping one side of his face.

She shifted to the other side and closed her eyes, hoping to look asleep as naturally as possible. At least, there were two things she could take advantage of getting high on ecstasy: faking to doze off fast and pretending not to have any idea this conversation ever happened.

Istanbul, August, 2020

Honks incessantly created a cacophonic and odd symphony as the traffic grew heavier. Daphne looked back at her phone and read the last messages Hamid sent to her one more time.

Did he mean it as a friend as always? Or did he ever feel something else? Something more than an attraction to the idea of a life with freedom, away from the burden of following the footsteps of his parents? And if so, would it change the course of their lives? Her stomach fluttered at every thought that tortured her with impossible scenarios of this love she could never have.

"Miss, is everything okay?" The driver asked, looking at her from the rear view mirror.

"Yes. I'm fine." She faked a smile. "Is it going to take long, sir?"

"I'm afraid so. Traffic always gets crazy when it rains."

"Can you take a different route?"

"I can, but it's a bit longer."

"How much?

"Three kilometers."

"Will we get there faster?"

"Yeah."

She looked out the window and at her phone again. It'd take forever for her to get there if they waited. So, against her best judgement, she ordered. "Take the longer route and step on the gas."

"Yes, ma'am."

_____

¹ My darling