@xthebitchisbackx continued from [here]
❝Sweetheart.❞ Soft, quiet, gentle - afraid to frighten, to further upset, one large palm splaying along her back with a barely-there pressure, aware that anything more might aggravate the burgeoning bruises. His other hand settles against the wild mane of her hair, fingers caressing steady, careful circles.
❝Ssssh.❞ It hitches with contained tears, that exhale, her pain like daggers within his chest. ❝There’s nothing to fix. You aren’t broken, and you aren’t bad.❞ Samil cannot promise that she is good; cannot promise that such a thing even exists. But he can be truthful.
❝You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. Sweet, and caring, and wonderful. And if… if good exists, then that’s what you are. Your pain doesn’t define you.❞ The taller’s touch shifts again, strong arms settling around his lover, until not a hair could hope to pass between them.
❝You’re safe here. No one’s leaving, and no one’s hurting you. I promise.❞
