Inked & Innocent

The Storm

The storm had been raging for hours, the pounding rain outside Javier's apartment windows doing little to calm his nerves. He had spent the last few days restless, unable to focus on anything. Aurora. She hadn't left his mind since that night of truth or dare, when they'd shared something more than a game. Her laughter, the way her eyes had sparkled with mischief, haunted him.

His chest tightened, the space between them growing more unbearable with each passing day. He hadn't reached out, unsure of what he'd say, but the distance gnawed at him.

A sharp knock at his door shattered his thoughts. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing toward the sound. It was frantic, pounding, echoing over the roar of the storm. He blinked, confused for a moment—who would be out in this weather? He rarely had visitors, and his place wasn't exactly easy to find.

Javier stood slowly, grabbing a t-shirt off the back of the chair before padding toward the door. The knocks came again, this time faster, more desperate.

"What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, pulling open the door.

There she was.

Aurora stood on the threshold, soaked to the bone, rain dripping from her hair, her dress torn and clinging to her skin. Her lip was busted, swollen with a fresh cut, and part of her cheek was bruised. The sight of her, trembling and disheveled, shot a bolt of fear straight through his chest.

"Aurora?" His voice was thick with shock, his body frozen as he took her in.

Her eyes were wide and haunted, her lip quivering as she stood there, drenched, looking at him like she didn't know what to do. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled sob.

"Jesus," Javier breathed, his hands reaching out to pull her inside, away from the storm. "What happened?"

As soon as his hands touched her, she broke. Her knees buckled, and she fell against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, pulling her against him as he kicked the door shut behind them. The rain continued to lash against the windows, but all he could hear was her broken voice as she gasped for air between sobs.

"He..." she started, but the words failed her, and all she could do was shake her head, her fingers gripping his t-shirt like a lifeline.

All Javier saw was red. His vision blurred with fury as the pieces clicked together in his head. Whoever had done this to her—no, he knew exactly who had done this. He didn't need her to finish the sentence to know. Steve. That fucking coward. The anger surged through him so fast that his entire body trembled with it.

"Was it Steve?" Javier's voice was sharp, louder than he intended.

Aurora flinched at his tone, her sobs hiccupping into silence. She shrank back slightly, her eyes wide with fear.

Shit. He was scaring her.

Javier inhaled sharply, forcing himself to lower his voice, to push the rage down for her sake. "Aurora," he said more softly, cupping her face with one hand. "Did Steve do this to you?"

She could barely meet his eyes, but she nodded, biting down on her trembling lip.

Javier's blood boiled, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "I'm gonna fucking kill him," he growled, the words rumbling from deep within his chest. He turned toward the door, ready to grab his leather jacket and leave, but her voice stopped him.

"No!" Aurora cried, panic lacing her voice as she reached out, grabbing his arm. "Please don't... I don't... I don't want to be alone."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was scared. Of course she was. As much as Javier wanted to storm out and make Steve pay for what he had done, the last thing Aurora needed was to be abandoned right now. She was terrified, broken. And he couldn't leave her like this.

Slowly, Javier exhaled and dropped his jacket. He turned back to her, his heart aching at the sight of her soaked and trembling. "Okay. I won't go," he said softly. "I'm staying right here."

She nodded weakly, tears still streaming down her face.

Without another word, Javier guided her toward the bathroom. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's get you cleaned up."

The storm outside was still raging as he filled the tub with warm water, the sound of the rain beating against the roof an eerie backdrop to the quiet tension between them. Aurora stood silently in the doorway, clutching the torn fabric of her dress around herself, her eyes downcast. Javier's heart twisted at the sight of her, at how fragile she looked.

"Here," he said, reaching for the hem of her dress. "Let's get you out of this."

She didn't resist as he carefully peeled the wet, torn fabric from her body, his movements slow and deliberate. He could feel the way her body trembled beneath his hands, but it wasn't from the cold—it was from the fear still clawing at her. Normally, seeing her like this would have sent his mind spiraling, but tonight was different. This wasn't about desire. This was about taking care of her, about making sure she felt safe.

Javier lowered her into the tub, the water steaming as it enveloped her shivering form. He knelt beside the tub, grabbing a washcloth and gently running it over her skin, washing away the dirt, the rain, the traces of Steve's hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.

Javier frowned, pausing mid-movement. "What the hell are you sorry for?"

"I shouldn't have ever been with him," she choked out, tears welling in her eyes again. "I should've known better. I should've known..."

"Stop," Javier said firmly, his tone gentle but commanding. He set the washcloth aside and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "This is not your fault. Do you hear me? You didn't do anything wrong."

Aurora blinked at him, her lip quivering. "But—"

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. "He's the asshole, not you. You didn't deserve this."

The look in her eyes broke him. She was so used to blaming herself, so used to thinking she wasn't good enough. Javier's heart ached for her, not understanding those who didn't see her the way he did.

After she was clean, Javier helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel, his hands careful and gentle. He dried her hair with a towel, then led her into his bedroom, grabbing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants for her. Aurora slipped into them without protest, her movements slow and exhausted.

She looked small in his clothes, the sleeves of his t-shirt hanging past her wrists. He grabbed a comb and sat beside her on the bed, slowly running it through her damp hair. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken words. Javier could feel the tension coiling inside him again, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But he pushed it down. For now, all that mattered was her.

After a while, he set the comb aside and stood, ready to give her space. "I'll let you get some rest," he said quietly, turning to leave.

"Wait," Aurora's voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Stay. Please."

Javier froze, his hand hovering on the doorframe. Slowly, he turned back to her. The look in her eyes was pleading, vulnerable. She didn't want to be alone.

Without a word, he climbed into the bed beside her, his heart pounding in his chest. Aurora curled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, and for a moment, they lay there in silence, the sound of the storm still raging outside.

Javier's hand found its way into her hair, his fingers gently combing through the strands as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing. He couldn't stop thinking about what Steve had done to her. The thought made him sick, made his blood boil with a violent rage he hadn't felt in years.

But right now, Aurora needed him. She needed his protection, his comfort. And he wasn't going to let her down.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice fragile, her breath warm against his skin.

Javier swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers still threading through her hair. "Don't thank me," he murmured. "Just rest."

And as her breathing slowed, signaling that she had finally fallen asleep, Javier lay awake, his mind consumed with two things.

One, the woman he held in his arms. And two, the man who would pay for hurting her.