TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains context of sexual abuse. Please read with caution.
|Alysanne Valentine|
The adrenaline is feeding into my bloodstream. Regardless of the temperature circulating below five degrees. Bare feet hitting the dirt soil, leaves and branches as the chill runs through my spine and immediately overwhelmed by my adrenaline. We established that a cold front will hit in twenty minutes and still we haven't reached any form of shelter.
Azarov and I were on the verge of becoming popsicles if we didn't take cover soon. The night sky is illuminating us with the glow of the moon and we had no sense of direction towards a destination. Our phones rendered useless with its lack of signal. This escape plan took a drastic turn and now we are lost in the woods. The fabric around my skin isn't enough, surprisingly I am sensitive to the cold and have always been.
Grinding my teeth and shivering to radiate some heat throughout my body, until I felt something wrap around my shoulders. Grasping ahold of his coat, I studied through darkness the way Azarov cupped his hands and blew heat into his palms. The suit jacket that once covered his skin is upon my shoulders, his formal shirt being his only source of resistance.
"You're going to get sick." I scold, taking off his jacket and giving it back to him.
Azarov took the jacket and I felt relived until he positioned himself in front of me, tall and intimidating to others but calming towards me. He held the jacket behind me until I put my arms through the holes, It's bagsy and rests upon my thighs.
"I can survive this, you on the other hand is much more sensitive and I don't want you to get sick when I can do something for you." he soothes, kissing my forehead and its astonishing how it held a vast amount of heat.
We continued onto our distorted trail but the butterflies in my tummy increased from simple actions and kind words.
"Thank you."
Even in darkness the smile gracing his delicate lips is breathtaking. There are certain occasions that bring forth such a pure smile and you know it's real due to its rarity. Five minutes passed before we spotted the outline of what appeared to be a tiny cabin. We couldn't have been more thrilled and practically sprinted to the door. The wood is soft and easily breakable with force, lights weren't glowing from the inside. Azarov knocked constantly for a minute and when that proved ineffective he opened the door. It's quite obvious that no one has occupied this place for months, there wasn't any furniture left or even lamps. The air smelt of rain that soaked into the wood and stale from the lack of life.
A bunch of newspapers are scattered all over the floor due to the wind and the fireplace is decorated in grey stone. We couldn't dwell any longer because the cold front hit and instantly the ice felt like it was licking my skin into frostbite. Azarov quickly kicked into action, checking all the cupboards for anything we could use.
Closing the door, I walked over to the fireplace to feel the logs. They were freshly burnt, a couple days. Someone was here before us and we didn't have the option to tread through the forest yet again. Azarov had three logs that appeared to be dry and removed the used one. Pushing the logs into the fireplace, 1 gathered the newspaper and crumpled it to push in-between the logs.
"I hope you have a lighter otherwise this is useless."
His deep laughter is enchanting as he pulled out his metallic lighter and fipped the lid all powerfully. Bringing the flame towards the newspaper, it's slowly eating at the wood and all we could hope for is that it doesn't deteriorate.
Azarov and I take our seats in front of the fire, craving the heat it emits but it's not enough. I'm feeling like my body temperature is decreasing by the minute, even with his jacket. Grinding my teeth and lifing my hands near the fire for warmth, cold weather is surely my weakness. My knees bite into the wood as I sit up and he must have noticed because I see his legs on either side of me and his heated arms wrap around my body, pulling me to sit in-between his legs.
Instantly, heat radiated off of him, blaring more than the fire. It's relaxing and comforting with his arms around me in this manner.
Azarov noticed how my body was shivering,
"Angel, you need to relax to allow the heat to warm you up." His tone was soft and filled with sincerity.
Usually I would feel scared at the touch of another man, but never with Azarov. It terrorified me because he had that power.
Shifting until I was in between his legs, he pulled me closer to his heated chest and the warmth from both sides is enough to conceal the ice running through my veins. His hands were wrapped around me, secured on my forearms. The only thing that could be heard is the crackling of the fire and probably my heart beating fast.
My vision attempting to focus on the dancing of marigold and bronze. However, that's a pathetic attempt at ignoring the comfort he provides within his arms, security and trust in a twisted way without words. The fierce howling of the wind compensates for the silence but it brings forth attention to the fact that Azarov isn't invincible. We couldn't attend a simple engagement without an ambush.
One time is enough to where we will barely escape.
"Tell them you followed the pomegranate seeds because they tasted like blood, like love." Azarov quoted.
"How do you know that?" I question, puzzled.
"You have been mumbling it continuously for five minutes."
I didn't even hear it, let alone feel those words escape my tongue. Was I so disorientated that I couldn't comprehend the severity of my anxiety eating away at my brain. We lived in bliss yesterday and right now, reality is sinking in and I feel like I'm drowning.
His lips place a small kiss against my crown as the pad of his thumbs draw circles on my forearms, "You think we are destined for agony. Don't you?"
"I don't think we are destined for damnation. We've been through agony that we don't know what a healthy relationship is supposed to be," the truth is bitter on my tongue.
The crackling of the fire should resemble what's faring between us. I could ruin everything, I wouldn't know what's a healthy relationship. There's a line I never crossed when it came to mixing sex with emotions but that boundary was crossed long-ago when I saw Azarov. He manages to blur the lines and make me feel alive for the first time.
"I disagree." His words startled me, Azarov said them dearly - without hesitation.
"I don't know what has happened to you in the past but I gather it's something traumatic that holds you back from experiencing happiness.
We both have fears going into this and it's
understandable because we don't have perfect examples of what a proper relationship is supposed to me. But isn't that what a relationship is? Both of us growing and learning along the way..." Azarov explains with tenderness.
They hit me straight in the heart. He was displaying all the positives that can come out of our relationship while reassuring that every negative that we face could never be permanent. Maybe we could find our own path towards a healthy relationship, eradicating our fears in the process. In order to get there, he needs to know everything.
"You're right. You don't know my past." I mutter, keeping my eyes focused on the fire dancing, than on his body engulfing
my own.
"You don't have to tell me, angel." Azarov already has an idea of where this conversation is going.
I don't like voicing out the past because makes me relive it. Those malevolent memories that's nauseating and too heavy to burden for such a young age. It brings torment and twists my stomach to the point that I want to vomit. My tongue bitter and dry, heat boiling at my blood and sweat building at my palms.
"I should have known but my parents played their role perfectly that even my uncle didn't think they were capable of such evil. It's funny how I ignored all the signs that we weren't an actual family. Men would come in and out of our house during the night and some would even stay for weeks at a time. My friends didn't have to experience strangers coming in and out of there house the way I did, that's when I realised something was wrong with our dynamic."
Azarov waited while I tried to swallow the tears threatening to resurface.
"When I was eight I got my first period. My mother told me it's a sign of becomig a woman so I didn't think anything of it. But that same night she came over to me and told me to put on this silk night gown. I thought it was weird because it was what she wore only a little smaller and shorter. But you can't argue with her otherwise she would get mad. Then, she started doing my hair and putting makeup on me. It was already late and I was tired but she told me that one of there friends were coming and I had to make him happy."
His hands tighten around me as it he is trying to protect me from what has already happened. Azarov rests his forehead against the back of my neck and its causing tingles to radiate throughout my body.
"Angel..." he chokes, probably assuming he had everything pieced together.
"She left and he came in. I will never forget those eyes, so dark and so evil. He unbuttoned his shirt and came over towards me. I tried to run but he tossed me onto the bed, caging me. His touch was making me sick. I remember screaming the point that my throat was sore but my parents never came, no one came for me and—" I never expected to choke or my words, for tears to escape down my cheeks.
"Don't." Azarov pleaded the crack in his voice from either the story or me for breaking down in the middle of it.
"He raped me. I was eight and he didn't care. All I remember is this sharp pain is my womb and like I was going to die. I wouldn't have minded to die in that moment, his sweat was dripping onto me and I was splitting in half. He needed me to call him 'Daddy' and when I didn't; he'd choked me really hard until I turned purple. It felt like hours before he finished and I remember staring at the wall with blood between my thighs and crying to myself. I was the perfect daughter, the perfect student. I never stole or lied. I always did my chores. What did I ever do to deserve that? to deserve my parents selling my body?" I sobbed, the tears overflowing whlle my heart immediately aches,
"I'm so sorry, angel." He cracked, holding me tighter if possible.
"They charged men to sleep with me, one each month and I hated myself even more. They were whoring there only daughter to men who wanted me to pleasure them. I hated them, I hated everything and everyone. The only person who ever truly loved me is my uncle and he was gone for a year on business. I had no one, no escape. At some point I stopped fighting them, I let them use my body because I was so fucking tired. Exhausted from all the crying and fighting that ended all the same. On my ninth birthday, no one wished me and they treated it like a regular business day. I was tired of crying when no one was coming to save me. That day I didn't expect my uncle to come visit me, I thought he forgot about me because everyone did. The look on his face was pure terror, he was always so calm and like a switch that flipped he turned berserk. I didn't get a chance to blink before he gripped the guy by his neck and shoved him against the wall, putting the gun into his mouth and shooting him. His body was vibrating with anger and when his eyes turned to me, he was so mad. Taking off' his coat to cover me and holding my hand as we went downstairs. When my parents saw him, it was the first time I ever saw them stricken with fear. He was merciless and they knew just because my mother was his sister he wouldn't spare them. When he killed them, I didn't cry for them or even feel heartbroken. Because I wanted them dead, I wanted to fucking kill them." My monotone voice resembles one of a monster, whose sanity has been forsaken.
"My uncle killed one guy out of twelve but I pleaded at nine years old to let them live. He knew when I begged for him to teach me how to kill that I wanted to kill them all. So he left them until I turned fourteen. That's when I killed them, without an ounce of remorse. People say revenge leaves you empty in the end but I was so fucking happy. So motherfucking happy that I killed them all. Not by a gun. No. They don't deserve an easy way out. Instead, I kidnapped them one by one and kept them in an isolated place so no one can fucking find them. I carved out their eyes, tongue, all of their motherfucking senses and finished off by slicing off their cocks. I spilled gas all over their raw blooded bodies where I left them half dead so they can endure the pain. Slow and burning. Hours later, I blew up the warehouse." I finished. The wicked truth smacked in his face.
Suddenly, I felt Azarov shift me until my legs are on either side of his hips. For the first time, those ethereal honey orbs are glossy. Wet tears coating his cheeks while the gruelling pain and hatred intertwines within his eyes. The scorching touch of his hands encase my cheeks, bringing forth a different type of intimacy. An emotional connection that I never experienced.
"I'm so sorry that your childhood was destroyed by people who created you, that were supposed to love and protect you. I'm so sorry that those disgusting men took something precious from you, they took away your choice and I resent them so much for hurting a damn child. I hate them all for bringing you so much pain and agony that you carry it around with you everyday. But I'm glad that you had your revenge, that you killed them without mercy."
I'm crying, someone who claims to have no humanity left and I couldn't stop. Tears escaping, choking on the burn in my throat and the sting in my eyes.
"How can you stand to even touch me after what I just told you?"
Azarov smiles and I mean genuinely smiles as if I hold stars. Placing a soft kiss onto my forehead that leaves tingles in its place. Resting his upon mine, its comforting when we are in this position.
"What happened to you was never your fault. You are still the Alysanne I met at dinner the first day, the one who loves my daughter like her own, the one who would lay down her life for the people she loves, the one who sacrifices her own happiness for others. Don't you see? you're incredible and passionate. Nothing and no one could ever take that away from you. I would never let anyone hurt you the way your parents did. I will do everything in my power to protect you."
I'm so touched by his words, all I feel is him. I found comfort in him." Azarov, you don't have to say anything."
He looked at me like there's something worth looking at, "Oh Alysanne, my angel. No matter what, I will tell you I love you. I will tell you how you draw everything out of me that I've been afraid of sharing. I will tell you how you pain the world as a beautiful place with your words, and you make me want to fall in love with life over and over again. I will tell you how the stars can't compete with your eyes. Because I see more galaxies— I see universes where I can find my home. I will tell you that your laugh makes my skin tingle and that your voice melts my heart. I will tell you that I want you have to everything there is in the world to offer. I will tell you I support you, no matter how hard it gets. I will tell you that there's no one quite like you, and there's no one else who could make me fee this way. I will tell you that your passion and determination out shines anything else. I will tell you I love you by saying all of these things and more."
Ever the romantic.
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