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I look at my clothes in a heap in the corner of the bathroom and grimace. The idea of putting them back on is almost nauseating.
"Fuck," I moan as I drag my fingers down my face.
As if behaving myself around her isn't going to be hard enough.
No pun intended.
There's no helping it. I open the door to the bathroom and make my way into the bedroom. She's already in bed and I can see instantly that she's been crying. Even in just this short amount of time, she can't hide things from me.
"You okay?" I ask her as I come around to her side of the bed. I sit down next to her, using my fingers to brush away some of the tears that have fallen and wet her cheeks.
"Yeah," she says. "Thanks to you."
Awe, fuck. There she goes again. Looking at me with those big eyes. Telling me things that make me feel fucking special. And she's completely oblivious to all of it.
She looks down at my towel and then up at me. The cutest blush creeps up onto her cheeks.
"Sorry," I say, wincing a little. "I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. If you want, I can leave."
Her hand reaches out suddenly, grasping at my arm. "No!" she says and I can hear the panic in her voice. "Please, don't go."
I place my hand on top of hers and squeeze. My heart squeezes at the same time. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."
She relaxes and gives me a small smile. "I'm sorry," she says.
"What for?" I ask her.
"For everything. For what I've put you through. For the fact that you happened to come across me this morning. If it weren't for the fact that," she starts to say, but I place a finger to her lips.
"Shh. It's okay. You don't have to apologize. Not to me. You've done nothing wrong."
She closes her eyes and tears start to fall again. "I don't think that's true."
"Keep those eyes closed," I say to her as I get up. I make my way around to the other side of the bed and drop my towel before climbing in.
I move over to her as her eyes are still closed. On instinct, I reach out and brush away some more tears that fell. She blinks her eyes open and looks at me.
Considering that I'm literally naked in the bed with her, I really need to control myself. She'd totally noticed if I went mission ready right next to her. Pretty sure the sheets would even lift, too.
I force myself to look away and instead wrap my arm around her body. I look up at the ceiling fan as it makes its slow, circular path.
"I think you should tell me what you're feeling," I say to her. "It's not good to keep things bottled up. Speaking from experience."
"Feeling?" she asks, as if she doesn't understand what that means.
It makes sense.
A girl forced into continuously horrible situations may learn to repress her feelings, lest confront the heinous nature of her circumstances.
I can tell that she is going to need a lot of time to build up her confidence.
"Yeah," I say in an encouraging tone. "Just go ahead and tell me the thoughts that are running through your mind. They don't need to make sense, even. Just start talking. Let it all out. I want to listen."
She takes a deep breath and then, to my surprise, starts talking.
"I wasn't sure how to feel today. This morning I felt really panicked. Then you drove up in your car and just fixed everything. More than anything I feel grateful to you. If you hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened. I would like to think Constantino would have helped me but-"
I interrupt her.
