Part 1 Tw- slight yandere behavior, hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse, mention loss of limb
You’d never think you would ever feel the comfort of a bed again. Yet here you are sprawled upon one. Not daring to move in hopes that this isn’t a dream.
You can still feel the faint throbbing of your toes well what’s left of them anyways. It still hurts to walk hell it still hurts to do anything.
So all you can do is sit and wait, it’s not like you’re given much of an option to begin with.
You don’t know what changed his behavior. And honestly it would be better if you didn’t.
Anything beats going back to the cell you now call a basement.
You hear the faint thump of feet as it makes it ways towards the room.
The door creaks open like the person on the other side is afraid of disturbing you.
Ironic that now he’s being soft when all he did was relentlessly torture you for….well you don’t know how long you’ve been here.
Time is fickle when you are trapped in a cage.
You almost scoff at the thought but hold yourself back.
He makes himself approach the room albeit slowly. With what seems to be clothes in hand. Soft ones at that.
You’ve been wearing the same worn down, pissed stain clothes since you’ve arrived here.
And to say you feel relief is an understatement because at least you could rid of the truama those clothes provided.
You try but fail to sit up, limbs still numb from the lack of movement you were provided.
But it seems he takes the hint as he gently helps you sit up. God you almost forgot the feeling of a gentle touch.
You could almost cry, but you don’t. How can you when your tormentor is the one providing you with these fleeting feelings of comfort.
You don’t seem to notice the soft almost mirthful look in his eyes.
You stay seated up almost like a statue waiting for him to make the first move. To inflict the same pain he has inflicted upon you again and again…
“Sweetheart…we need to get you out of these clothes okay?”
You faintly glance up suprised at the pet name. You would never have expected the day he would look at you with such a soft look that was only ever limited to his ‘darling’
Just the thought of it makes you sick again..you want to say something anything. To yell, cry and curse him out for all the hell he put you through just because you were friends with the person he claimed to love.
But all you could let out are silent pathetic tears.
Yeah that’s what you are pathetic
Pathetic enough not to stand up for yourself, not to fight back to do something anything. But all that fire was extenguished the first time he sliced off your finger.
You could still faintly remember the excruciating pain but all it was now is a faint memory.
A memory you would never like to revisit…
You don’t seem to take notice of a calloused palm wiping away the evident tears streaming down your face nor the guilty look the man harbors.
He wouldnt blame you if you hated him.
That’s the worst part of it all. And the evident scars still present from his insistent torture he subjected you to.
Guilt is a powerful thing, it can shape a persons perspective from the pure intensity of it all.
And all he sees right now is a child he deliberately hurt in the name of love.
He doesn’t even know if he still loves her. How could he when every time he converses with her all he can see is the pitiful image of you…
Maybe that’s why he’s so insistent on taking care of you, to bring some personal relief to himself so his mind will stop plaguing him with nightmares of your screams for help.
He feels bile in his throat just thinking about it. But no matter first he needs to get you out of your ragged clothes any into some new ones.
He doesn’t remember faintly why he bought some more childish ones but it was like it was in instinct.
He doesn’t know what he feels for you and he doesn’t want to ponder it. But he does know hes guilty of a lot of things.
You don’t seem to take notice or care when he lifts your shirt off of your malnourished body. Faint scars still present from the ‘punishments’ he inflicted on you.
But just as quickly he puts the pjmas shirt on you. The design consists of white bunnys with a faint light pink backdrop, with matching pants to go with it.
He carefully helps you stand up, allowing you to change your pants for yourself. Turning around to atleast respect your privacy, it’s the least he could do.
With that he helps you get back onto the bed, tucking you in like a father would a child.
And some twisted part of him relishes in the prospect of being your father.
He hasn’t felt this sort of warmth in so long, it’s not the type that’s all consuming but a faint pleasent type where he knows this is where he needs to be.
And so he sits there with you until you fall asleep combing his hands through your matted hair, noting that you’ll need a bath tomorrow.
But all he could feel is at peace
Because maybe this was meant to be.
