𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐇𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢

Prologue

Her clothes were hanging on her body just by mere threads.

Her legs threatened to give out from the pain that emitted from her back, feeling dry blood still clinging to her spine– a spine that she was not sure how was intact even after those whips.

A shuddered course through her body and she tightened her hand on the fabric of her cloth she clutched tightly, her hands fisting it securely near her chest. She hurried down her steps when she noticed the look on the guards faces, the one she knew would just bring her more pain– if she didn't hurry.

But as she walked down to the prison– cell– room? No, her personal hell suited it better. The fire of her hopes diminishes with every new day, with every new cut. She didn't– couldn't notice the carmine eyes that looked at her with absolute helplessness, empathy and in some deeper corner– with a quiet resolve.

She had spent hours curled up in the corner of her room after taking a few sips of water, her hands clutching the white fabric– the fabric that had long been dusted with debris and blood but now had become torn too. She could feel tears pricking at the corner of her eyes– what was she supposed to do now?

She didn't have anything else to wear, never had here. They didn't care to provide anything except basic necessities– food, water, three pairs of undergarments, a thin blanket, just that. Her fingers furiously wiped her eyes, her trembling lips cursing herself– why was she crying over torn clothes? When she had so many other things to cry about?

A quiet rustle outside the door caused her to freeze, her body tensing.

Some moments passed.

Silence.

She turned around very silently, her cautious eyes darting toward the door squinting to see in the darkness– but she was only able to figure out the figure of something laying there. With unsure steps, she crawled over there, her hand brushing against something– soft?

She blinked rapidly as she loosens her clutch on that battered clothing and held the soft fabric of cloth in her hand before slipping it in. The soft fur on the inside tickled her skin, brushing against the scars.

Pine scent waved through the air after wearing it.

And she couldn't help herself but cry, hot tears streaming down her eyes, silent sobs wracking her body.

It was warm.

It was soft.

Like... Like an embrace.

When was the last time she had felt warmth in these cold Russian nights? 

***

a/n; make sure to press the little star button over there! 🌟
and just so you know, upcoming chapters would be longer :) 
this is just the prologue so enjoy, and make sure to comment your opinions <3