Sparks Fly | ✓

0:37

"Shane," he gasped, this information completely catching him off guard. He slowly sat up from his resting position and watched her taking constant breaths with her eyes closed.

"You're not who I want to tell," her lips trembled, as she continued with her confession, "but I've got to tell someone, as a part of my healing process."

He could see the tears leaving the corners of her eyes, but she never let out a sound. All that she did was take in a breath, and immediately release it through her mouth. This was something that her dad taught her.

"Oh Shane, I am so very sorry about what you went through," he spoke with a soft voice, picking up her hand and holding it because he did not know how to comfort her. Neither did he know how she wanted to be comforted.

His heart broke for her, and for every woman that ever had to go through that, all because a man couldn't control himself.

"Is that why she's trying to run you out of town? Because her father did that to you?" disbelief drenched his tone, as he tried to connect the dots. He couldn't understand how she had taken Shane's power.

She laughed, letting go of Hendrichs' hand and she sat up. Her time to cry was up, as bitterness was all she felt encroaching her heart. It tasted sour upon her tongue, but she had no problem with that — she quite liked sour candy for that matter.

Roughly, she wiped her tears. She needed that half of a glass that was left, and more. Silently she tried to stand to her feet, but like he knew where she was headed — he quickly grabbed onto her arm. A frown was the first thing to climb onto her face. She was not appreciative of his stance.

"Let me go." she stated, or much rather commanded. It wasn't just a command, but it was a warning, one he didn't care to oblige to.

"I'm not letting you go," he told her. And she pulled her arm, forcefully at that. Yet his grip remained strong on her.

"Let me go!" she screamed this time. Her anger doing most of the talking, trying to protect a crumbling Shane.

"I will. I just need you to calm down first." He wasn't trying to be dominant over her. He just didn't know what her history with alcohol was. He however knew what the abuse of it could lead to. He'd walked down that path with Amaru, and these were the birth pains he'd ignored when it came to him.

He couldn't allow himself to ignore them yet again.

"I was calm. Then you decided to hold onto my hand as though you're my man. Whom are you trying to control? Cause I know the hell it's not me!" she spat, tugging at her hand yet again.

"Please don't drown your emotions in alcohol," was what he chose his response to be. "I'm not controlling you, I'm only asking you,"

"A sip is not gonna turn me into an alcoholic Hendrichs," she softly chuckled, her arm becoming limp in his hand. Her shoulders visibly sagged, followed by a sigh that left her lips. She then shook her head.

Voice full of melancholy, she continued — this time trying to explain herself. "I don't have the physical strength to relive all things that happened the last time I was in this city H. At least with more liquor in my system, I can talk about it. Let it out of my system. Heal, or whatever my dad said."

"You'd have defeated the whole purpose of speaking about it. Because it's not just about speaking, but letting the emotions trapped in your soul out. That's healing." he explained, holding her eyes with his own.

She chuckled in response, "If you know all this, why aren't you applying it to your own life? Hmm? You walk around carrying all these emotions but you act like you're fine."