Paint me as a VILLIAN !

CHAPTER 17

A sharp trill pierced the quiet of the night, jolting him awake. He stumbled towards the door, sleep clinging to him like a cobweb. Outside, bathed in the pale moonlight, stood his girlfriend, her silhouette swaying slightly.

His heart skipped a beat. She was back from her night out, considerably earlier than he expected. But something was different. She moved with an unfamiliar unsteadiness, her laughter echoing with a forced gaiety.

He opened the door, concern etching lines on his forehead. "Hey," he said softly, his voice laced with worry. "Are you okay?"

She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes shimmering under the moonlight. "I'm fine," she slurred, a playful giggle escaping her lips. "Just a little… tipsy."

He guided her inside, noticing the way her hand trailed along the wall for support. A wave of protectiveness washed over him. He knew she wasn't used to drinking this much, and the vulnerability in her eyes tugged at his heartstrings.

She stumbled towards the couch, collapsing onto it with a sigh. A playful glint entered her eyes as she looked up at him. "Come here," she beckoned, her voice husky with desire.

He hesitated, his mind immediately flashing back to the promises he had made to himself earlier. He wouldn't take advantage of her state. He would be her anchor, her safe haven, not another reason for her to feel violated.

He sat down on the edge of the couch, keeping a respectful distance. "You've had a lot to drink," he said gently. "Maybe you should rest?"

Her face fell, a flicker of hurt crossing her features. "Don't you want me?" she whispered, her voice thick with disappointment.

He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course I want you," he said, his voice filled with love and concern. "But you're not yourself right now. And I would never take advantage of you, especially when you're vulnerable."

His words seemed to register with her. The playful defiance in her eyes softened, replaced by a glimmer of understanding. She leaned back, her head resting against the cushions.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her voice filled with regret. "I just…" she trailed off, her eyes welling up with unshed tears.

He pulled her close, his embrace a silent comfort. He didn't need her to explain. He understood the pain she was trying to numb, the echoes of the past that still haunted her.

He held her as she cried, whispering words of reassurance and love. He knew this was part of her healing process, a necessary release of the emotions she had bottled up for so long.

When her tears finally subsided, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

He smiled, his heart overflowing with love. "And you're mine," he replied, his voice filled with unwavering devotion. "Always."

He helped her to her feet, gently guiding her towards the bedroom. He tucked her into bed, watching as sleep slowly claimed her. He lingered beside her for a moment, his heart aching for her, yearning for the day she could be truly free from the shadows of her past.

He kissed her forehead, a silent promise to be her protector, her confidante, her forever love. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but he also knew that they would face it together, their love a shield against the storms, their bond stronger than any darkness that dared to challenge it.

And as he turned off the light and closed the door, he whispered a prayer for her healing, for their future, and for the unwavering promise of forever that bound them together.