Forever Eleanor: A Green Mile Story

Chapter Five

Eleanor's POV:
"Just take some deep breaths for me, sweetie," Percy said, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. He removed his hand from my face and went to open the door.

Brutal's POV:
I watched as the bathroom door opened and Percy stepped out, Eleanor walked out after him. Her face
blotchy and red like a sunset, she looked a mess.
"Oh, darlin'" I said, rushing over to her. I pulled her into a tight hug. Her arms wrapped around my waist as she clung onto me. I held onto her back and cradled her head while playing with her hair.
"S'alright sweetheart," I spoke to her, "it's all gonna be alright, baby"
Eleanor sobbed into my chest, her tears soaking the front of my work jacket. Damn, I should call off of work tonight but that'll be takin' dinner out of her mouth.
"Do you want me to take the night off?" I asked her.
"We can't afford that," She said between sobs.
I let out a sigh looking over to Percy. I gave him a look, almost pleading with him. I felt pathetic at that but he seemed to understand. Taking a step forward he spoke up.
"She can stay here tonight"
"Thank you"
If he took care of her well enough with her first monthly then I guess I can trust him with her for the night. Maybe he's not all that bad or rude or a pain in the ass. Even though he had a boner for her when I dropped her off this morning.

Percy's POV:
It was a shock to see that look in Brutal's eyes. He looked as though he was begging for me to take care of that sweet girl wrapped in his arms. Well, she's not really a sweet girl anymore is she, but more of a sweet young woman.
"It's 8:30, Brute, you should get to work" I told him gently, stepping behind Eleanor and stroking her back.
"I know," He said softly, still holding onto Eleanor.

Brutus stepped back but grasped onto Eleanor's smooth, pale hands. Alright, time to lead him out. I told Brutus I'd walk him out. He followed me down the steps, hand in hand with Eleanor.
"Why don't you wait on the couch, sweetie," I said to Eleanor. She nodded and let go of Brutals hand.
"Don't you worry," I started with a smile, "I'll take good care of her." I winked. I wanted to get a rise out of him.
Brutal harshly yanked me forward by my shirt color, I heard some of the seams burst.
"This' a new shirt you god-damned caveman!" I raised my voice at him. I wasn't scared, why would I be? The way he grabbed me made the blood rush to my crotch. Sometimes I wish he'd just bend me over and- oh shut the fuck up! What the hell am I thinking?

"Listen here you little fucker!" Brutas growled out at me. "You touch my little girl and your fuckin' dead!"
"Oh, relax" I said lightly, grabbing his arm and tracing my fingers slowly to make him uncomfortable.
"Don't you tell me to relax, boy!" He shoved me away at that. I lost my footing and fell to the ground. Fuck, that hurt. I scraped my hands on the harsh gravel, tears started to fill my eyes as the stinging in my palms became more prominent.
"What'd ya do that for?" I raised my voice at him. I hated how my voice always shook when I was upset. My bottom lip shook as the tears finally spilled down my face. Great, I'll look all red and puffy tomorrow.
"C'mon now," Brutal said quietly, "Quit cryin' boy"
"Just leave already" I sobbed out, pushing myself up and off of the ground.
I ran back into the house, leaving him in the driveway. I slammed the front door behind me, letting my back rest against it. A sob left me as my hands throbbed.
"Mr. Wetmore?" Eleanor's gentle voice rang out. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. FUCK!

"Are you alright?" Her soft voice flooded my ears, echoing in my brain.
"You gonna believe me if I say yes?" I couldn't possibly meet those gorgeous emerald eyes with my own puffy eyes. Dammit, I feel like such a baby.
"Probably not," She said with a lift in her words.
I felt her silky hands caress my face, her skin was the color of the finest ivory. She shifted my face to look her in the eyes.

Eleanor's POV:
Percy looked up through tear covered lashes. Baby blues surrounded by red and white marble. He looked so perfect as if he was the Fallen Angel, the one Alexandre Cabanel had depicted for our curious minds.