Kian's heart raced as he beheld the girl's beauty, her delicate features stirring something profound within him. Her small nose scrunched in her sleep, and her soft lips moved ever so slightly, painting the picture of an ethereal being. Was she an a...
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Third Person's PoV
Kian cradled Arachnea, his little Sky, in his arms, her small frame trembling with each sob that escaped her lips. The events, giving her statements to the police had left her shaken, and now, ensconced in the safety of Kian's car, the floodgates of her emotions had burst open. Kian's heart ached at the sight of her distress, his mind racing for ways to ease her turmoil.
"Shh, can you hear my voice?" he cooed, his hands gently patting her back. He pulled her closer, enveloping her in the warmth of his embrace, a silent promise of protection. "I'm here, you are safe," he whispered into her ear, his voice a steady beacon in the tempest of her panic.
Arachnea's shoulders shook violently, her cries a testament to the fear that gripped her. Kian felt a pang of helplessness; it had been five minutes, and yet his little Sky seemed so far from reach.
"Breathe for me, my little Sky," he urged softly, his hold on her tightening, a silent plea for her to anchor herself to his presence. In the confines of the car, under the watchful gaze of the moon, Kian became her steadfast guardian, his resolve unwavering as he sought to guide her back from the edge of despair.
Arachnea's words were fragmented, a jumble of syllables that trembled as much as her body. "I...I d-don't...I d-don't w-want..." she stuttered, her voice barely rising above a whisper. Her face, hidden in the sanctuary of Kian's chest, was damp with tears, her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of his shirt.
Kian's heart clenched at her distress, his voice a soothing balm as he tried to reach her through the haze of her panic. "Shh, I'm here. Please, my little Sky, come back to me, baby," he implored, his words a gentle plea for her return to the present.
With a gasp that seemed to draw the very air from the car, Arachnea's body slackened, her form going limp in Kian's lap. He responded with instinctive protectiveness, his arms tightening around her, his whispers painting a tapestry of comfort in her ear, weaving assurances and promises to quell her fears.
The muffled query that emerged from her was heart-wrenching in its vulnerability. "Y-you h-hate...you h-hate me now?" Her words, though obscured by her position, were clear in their intent, a fear of rejection that cut through Kian's soul.
"No, never," Kian's response was immediate, his voice firm with conviction. "I could never hate you, my little Sky. You are my heart, my soul," he affirmed, his embrace a fortress against her doubts, a silent vow to shield her from any storm.
Kian adjusted Arachnea's form on his lap, his embrace a constant source of comfort. Her trembling had subsided somewhat, yet her sobs still tore through the silence of the car with heartbreaking intensity. He reached out, his fingers deftly catching the loose strands of her braided hair, gently tucking them behind her ear.
"Why would I hate my little Sky? Hmm?" he murmured, his question laced with tenderness.
Arachnea inhaled sharply, her grip on the hem of Kian's shirt tightening as if clinging to an anchor in a stormy sea. "B-because...n-no. I...b-because I'm d-disgusting. I always...s-stutter," she confessed, her breath hitching. "And t-this p-panic attack happens. Aren't you d-disgusted?" Her words were interspersed with sniffles, each one a dagger to Kian's heart.
