Twisted Devotion

Thirty Eight

The snow continued to fall steadily outside, piling high against the cabin and covering the world in a thick, silencing blanket of white. The wind had started to pick up, and Ava could hear the trees swaying, their branches scraping against the cabin walls like fingers clawing at wood. She shivered, pressing herself closer to Dominic's warm frame, feeling the solid comfort of his arm draped over her.

Nights had become this strange, unspoken ritual—falling asleep tucked against him, like an unbreakable habit. Each evening, as the cabin grew colder, she sought his warmth instinctively, curling into him until sleep claimed her.

But tonight, something jolted her awake. The wind howled, louder now, and the scrape of branches against the window felt almost alive, tapping insistently against the glass as if wanting in. Her heart raced, and she stiffened, gripping Dom's arm. He stirred beside her, his voice low and laced with sleep.

"Hey, it's alright," he murmured, his eyes barely opening as he tightened his hold on her. "It's just the wind. Nothing's gonna get in here."

Ava swallowed, calming a little at the reassurance in his voice. But the lingering tension must have shown in her face, because Dominic shifted to face her, his gaze more awake now, softening as he looked at her.

"I'll always look after you, Ava. No one's going to hurt you," he said firmly, his words grounding her in the dimly lit cabin.

They lay there in silence for a moment, just listening to the storm rage outside. Then, as if compelled to fill the quiet, Dominic began to speak.

"Do you want to know how I got this scar?" he asked, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the line down his face, from his eyebrow to his cheek.

Ava's gaze followed his hand, the scar a constant reminder of the hardened life he'd led. She nodded, curiosity laced with a touch of fear.

"There was... someone," he began slowly, as though piecing the story together in his mind. "Someone who did something he should never have done. Hurt someone he shouldn't have." His tone grew darker, the flicker of anger evident even in the faint light. "He came at me with a knife. I'll spare you the details, but it was him or me that night. He managed to get one good slash in before... well, let's just say he didn't walk away."

Ava held her breath, trying to imagine the scene. She'd seen hints of Dominic's violent past, but hearing him talk about it—how he'd fought, how he'd survived—it brought him into sharper focus, a mixture of raw survival and protectiveness. She looked into his dark eyes, studying the hardened resolve there, yet she noticed something else as well—a vulnerability he tried to hide.

"What about happier memories?" she asked softly. "You and your brother... what were you like as kids?"

Dominic's face softened at the mention of his brother, the sharp edges smoothing into something gentler. He sighed, a hint of a smile appearing.

"Ah, my brother... He was the scrappy one. We'd go down to the river in the summers, spend all day there, catching fish and daring each other to jump from the highest rocks." A chuckle escaped him. "He was always trying to one-up me, and I... I didn't mind. It was just us against the world."

Ava could see the flickers of those days reflected in his expression, and she felt a pang in her chest. "That sounds... nice."

Dominic looked at her, an understanding in his gaze. "It was. For a while, anyway."

They fell silent, the words hanging in the air between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. Ava took a breath, feeling a familiar ache resurface, and before she knew it, the words slipped out.

"I don't talk to my parents anymore." She paused, glancing at Dominic, whose face softened with empathy. "They... I don't know. It's complicated, but they never really saw me, you know? I don't think they ever cared to."

Dominic nodded slowly, as if he'd known this already, but respected her enough to let her share it in her own time. She continued, her voice a soft murmur in the darkness.

"It was like I didn't belong in their world. And now... I wonder if they ever think about me. If they even care that I'm gone."

He reached over, his rough hand finding hers in the dark. He gave it a squeeze, grounding her again. "You've got me," he whispered. "Maybe I'm not what you wanted, but I'm here."

Ava felt something break open inside her at those words. She shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. In the quiet darkness, with the wind still howling outside, they stayed like that, sharing fragments of themselves, both feeling a little less alone.