𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝟏𝟖+

33. suffering

POPPY ELLISON

✥

"Who the fuck did this to you?"

Oh my God. What have I done?

I let the moment get ahead of me. Never would I have dropped my dress in front of him if I was sane right now and not chasing the kisses he left across my neck. Tears swell in my eyes, I'm stuck to the spot on the floor.

Fuck. I want to run. As far away as possible.

Bile rises in my throat. Sickly and violent. I choke it down because I can barely breathe.

Gabriel's eyes flick over my stomach and my chest again. Ugly. My whole body is so fucking ugly. No one is ever going to want to be with me, love me when I look like this. Used goods. Abused and thrown away and discarded like trash. Fucking worthless. I'm fucking worthless.

He stands up and advances his height on me. I can barely meet his eyes but when I do, he's not staring back at me with disgust or regret. I can see pure death in his eyes. It's dark and hazy. It's fucking haunting.

No. No. He should be disgusted. Everyone else is.

They see what I've endured and declare that I couldn't physically ever be beautiful. Not with all this permanent damage that I'll never be able to cover up.

"Poppy," his voice is a breathless wobble. "I need fucking names."

I blink once and my tears start streaming down my face. My instinct is to take a step away and I lean down to retrieve my dress, covering up my mutilated skin so that he can no longer see my body.

My chest constricts at the same time my throat doesn't allow me to take any air. I almost stumble over in my heeled boots but I somehow make it to the door, even though I can hardly see through my stained vision.

"Poppy," Gabriel's voice behind me softens but it still sounds like he's on the edge of a breakdown. I'm choking as I fumble with my dress, desperately trying to put it on but my arms feel like they're filled with lead.

His hand reaches out to cradle my wrist but I snatch it away instantly. "Don't touch me," I sob, my heart shattering to pieces inside my chest. "Please don't touch me."

How could I be so stupid to forget for even a single second? I'm not a normal woman. I will never be a normal woman. I'm branded for life and I will never be able to escape it.

I press my hand into the wall and attempt to regain my breathing but my head becomes light. I'm hyperventilating, not able to control my lungs for a single second. "Red," he rasps. "Look at me."

My eyes squeeze shut. I can't. I want to scream.

"Look at me," he drops his tone. "Please."

The word is nothing more than a caress of a whisper and for the first time I give in. I flick my gaze to his and I see the utter devastation and pain that is slashed across his face. His reaction confuses me. Why would he be upset about this?

He should be shoving me out the door. He shouldn't be looking at me like he cares.

Because no one cares. No one has ever cared.

"Breathe," he says quietly. "Listen to my breaths, okay? Follow them."

I clench my brows together, my eyes moving down to his lips then his chest. At first I can't even register what's going on but he steps closer, keeping his distance. He doesn't touch me. "Watch my mouth, Poppy," he states. "Listen to my breathing. Do it with me. You're going to make yourself pass out."