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It was fairly common for the boy to get a little too eager on missions nowadays, a byproduct of confidence he may or may not have earned. Sometimes it was an extra vial of gold powder for potions or maybe a type of food that was getting difficult to come by and even more so to afford in the winter months. He knew Donella disapproved but couldn’t really say anything as she allowed him to sprinkle the extra ingredients into their brew to increase their power, or changed weekly meal plans to accommodate new additions to their pantry.
He knew she didn’t like what he was doing, but then again why did he care what she thought? He didn’t. And recently as she began to lecture him about his kleptomaniac tendencies, it fell on deaf ears. Because what did she know?
Waltzing into the lab that night, he found it increasingly odd that whenever he would return despite the lateness of the hour, she would be there waiting for him. Sat at her desk, the woman looked up as he entered and crossed the room with the papers she had requested in hand. A few more seconds and a knowing look from her before an ornate-looking scroll was set next to it. “Where’d you get this?”
She asked, keen eyes already knowing that this was no ordinary find. Taking it with her hands, to his surprise Donella uncapped the end and glanced inside. Her gaze widened for a half-second before she closed the container once again.
“Saw it sitting on the windowsill of some random house. Figured those snobs could live without their fancy decoration,” Plus if they were stupid enough to leave something important in plain view then they were just as terrible as the stories passed along about them. Her chair scraped against the floor as she rose to her feet, quickly walking past Hugo and getting her jacket from the hook.
Hm, he was expecting a thank you or some nod of approval. Not that he needed that it’s just- that’s what she’d usually do. A creature of habit. Shrugging on the long dark brown attire, she quickly tied it into place at her waist and picked up the scroll once again. “Hey! Where are you- I earned that.”
He jumped up but was quickly silenced by a sickeningly sharp glare, “What you just earned could be a whole lot of trouble for the both of us!” She somehow snapped without raising her voice at all, “I have very few rules for you, Hugo, so I would appreciate it if you listened to the ones I do have in place. Stealing is an art form, it requires planning and-”
“Yeah yeah I get it,” He sighed and rolled his eyes, glancing at his nails while she stood there. The woman inhaled sharply before shaking her head. “Would it kill you to stop being a buzzkill for once, Don? Demanitus, you sound like a nagging mother.”
She opened her mouth and then held her tongue. Things had been strained recently, he was acting out- and she knew this was a part of growing up but it would have been different if his teenage defiance didn’t toy with the line between life and death. Her eye twitched slightly before she spun around on her heel. “Good night, Hugo.” There was nothing warm about her tone, more like a demand for him to stay home and go to bed as she stormed out the door and shut it tightly behind her.
~~
He was never one to listen to instructions. Slinking along in the shadows, the boy followed his mentor closely as she hurried down the street, coat billowing in the wind before stopping at an intersection with a single spotlight. She paused and Hugo wondered if she had fallen asleep before there was shouting and then a rush of footsteps as two men ran up to her. One was clearly a guard while the other was an upperclassman judging from the way he dressed. They barreled towards her, getting far too close with pointed hands but she didn’t move.
As much as he was annoyed with her recently, Hugo was impressed. He wasn’t sure quite why he would get this chewing knot in his stomach, how his words were laced with poison when he spoke to her- it was this bitterness that blinded him, memories of something he couldn’t quite picture bubbling to the surface. Warm fireplaces, being bundled up in blankets with her reading to him, sleeping in her arms at night as the rain poured down on their patched roof- it was an anger that came from loss.
“I should have known it was you!” The nobleman spat in her face and again she didn’t even flinch, only raised her chin a little higher, “A conspiring snake from the lowlife-”
“I would like to apologize for what was taken from you, it was not my intention,” She interrupted, voice as level and pristine as ever as she held out the scroll. Hugo wrinkled his nose from where he was standing- she wasn’t, why wasn’t she rightfully blaming him? And more importantly why wasn’t she absolutely going after this jerk? The man was so shocked he actually backed up and took it from her, “But I will not be apologizing for where I come from nor my character, which is no purer than your own.”
There it was, her quip actually put a little smile on his face. Uncapping the container and looking inside to make sure everything was there, the man backed off and started to step away. “I swear to the seven kingdoms if anything happens to her because of this-”
“I’m more than willing to answer for my actions justly. You know how to contact me.” And with that, the two men left, leaving her under the glow of the streetlamp. His confusion was plastered all over his face, hidden in the dim light. There was a moment where her head turned his way eyes lingered on him though she couldn’t possibly know he was there- right?
~~
A few days passed, then the end of the week was upon them. She usually let him have that last day to himself, free to go wherever he pleased with the one stipulation that he wasn’t to swipe anything without telling her first. Sometimes he didn’t listen but after what happened a few days prior he knew better than to mess with her while she was already ticked.
He arrived back that day to find the door slightly ajar. Which never happened as Donella hated letting in a draft or any unwanted visitors. Hugo stuck by the entrance, lingering at the crack so he could hear the conversation from inside. There was a cacophony of sounds, more on the lower register.
“I want compensation!”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Her voice stuck out through the rest, this odd familiarity along with it, “In what form?”
There was a slight pause, “Blood,” The voice which he was remembering from the nobleman all those nights ago growled out. “You did this! You took what she needed to live-” The sound of fist meeting something soft but there was no cry or yell. Hugo held his breath as Cyrus spoke up, He rarely heard the man speak and maybe that was why it stuck out to him.
“Do you need me to escort you out, sir?”
“That won’t be necessary, Cyrus,” Donella answered and the boy could picture how that man’s palm, his mother’s business partner or advisor and muscle, would have absolutely engulfed whatever punch the upperclassman would have tried to deliver. “He has a point.”
An eerie lack of noise before footsteps started to head for the door. Without thinking, he hurried inside and did his best to act shocked at the three extra men in the room. Donella, who was standing in front of them, turned towards him. “Hugo!” Her tone was slightly strained as she stepped closer, “Just in time. I need you to run to the night market for me and pick up some things. Cyrus can tell you on your way.”
Her hand on his shoulder, pushing him towards the door to which he resisted. Her fingers curled into his shoulder, not enough to hurt but enough to signal him to stop. “Don, wait! Don!” He snapped and shook himself from her grip. “I need to talk to you! Alone.” And at his words, he could sense the tension that shot through the room. Her green eyes darted to the side, at the men who were going to get hostile at any sign of her bailing.
“Cyrus, stay with our guests, please. If I’m not back within five minutes, let them burn the place to the ground.” She stepped out, shutting the door behind her, and they were as close to alone as they could get.
“Don, who are those people?” He whispered and watched the way her face subtly contorted. It was hard to notice with her, the way that specific worry line always deepened and her eyes dimed in the already dark outside world, but he did. While she was distant from him, Hugo found that whenever he asked her a direct question she’d give him an answer. For most things at least.
A sucked in breath, closing her eyes before speaking, “That man is from the upper-class side of town. He had a wife who was very sick, so much so that she needed to take medication multiple times a day at exact intervals. And that medication-”
“Was stored in the container,” He muttered, eyes growing wide as the pieces were put together. “I didn’t- I never meant to-” Suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, the world swayed under his feet as he stumbled back. Cold hands rested on his shoulders, and it was strangely comforting and familiar.
“I know, kid, I know,” Her voice was soft, not something he was used to. It threw him off more than yelling could have. He looked up at those green eyes and watched them closely- the look she gave him made his chest ache.
“I have to- shit we have to tell him. I have to tell him-” He reached for the door but her hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him away, her grasp so tight it hurt.
“No!” There was this sharpness to her tone in juxtaposition to before, this power despite it being the same volume as her speaking voice, “You are to go on a walk with Cyrus. You are not to come back for at least three hours. And when you do we will never speak of this again.” Her gaze was burning with intensity, at first he read it as anger but the longer he stared the more it resembled worry.
“Don, I- just stop it!” His voice rose but he wasn’t afraid of being heard. They had soundproofed the lab ages ago due to complaints of noise during working hours. “Why are you treating me like a child?!”
“Because you are!” And all the air escaped from his lungs as her shout tore through the night. Donella never yelled. He backed up a little and her hand left his wrist as she stepped in front of the door. “You are a child! You make mistakes because you are learning! And you are my responsibility!”
“I am not!” He roared back and stood on his toes. The phrase escaped his lips before he had time to stop it, “Why are you acting like this? You were never there for me before so why are you being such an ass now?!”
“Just fucking listen to me for once, Ul-!” Her eyes widened at the phrase, she slapped a hand over her mouth and half cut off the name. And he watched how her face contorted and her demeanor changed. Her shoulders sank as if she were deflecting and shrinking into herself. Then- he couldn’t read her anymore. She closed herself off.
Time was up. He watched as the light from their porch light reflected off her features, glistening along the edge of the raised skin on her cheek as they shifted while she clenched her jaw. Her posture came back, she opened the door and the light flooded, over them. “Hugo, I need you to go for a walk.”
“I won’t!” There was a pause as she exchanged glances with Cyrus who carefully stepped towards the entrance. They essentially switched places with Donella heading inside and him catching Hugo with his arm before he slinked in with her.
“Let’s go.” The man replied and all he could do was watch helplessly as he was dragged out. His eyes met hers and for a second, just a fleeting moment, he swore they looked helpless, sad even. The door closed.
“Why did you do that!” He shouted and, like many times in his life, threw himself at Cyrus. The man’s hand was grabbing the back of his shirt firmly even as Hugo squirmed and thrashed around. The smaller boy just bounced off his side before being calmly picked up as if he was nothing heavier than a sack of potatoes and carried down the stairs towards the street.
This anger was exploding from his gut, a desperation to his tone because this was his fault! He never meant to- all he ever wanted was to show him that he was useful and now look what he did. “She needs you! She needs us! I thought you’re supposed to be her muscle, you’re supposed to protect her!”
A little scoff, “We both know that Donella is perfectly capable of defending herself,” The man started but Hugo saw his furrowed brow and the way he anxiously played with his wedding band, spinning it around on his finger while also keeping the boy contained. “If she doesn’t do this, it’ll never end.”
“What do you mean?” He said in a nearly pouty manner, crossing his arms as Cyrus set him down now that he was sure he wasn’t going to run back towards the house.
“You heard the guy,” The blond looked up in shock at those words but the man just shrugged, “He wanted blood. And he wasn’t going to stop until he got it.”
“And you’re not worried about that? About her?”
“Who said that?” Cyrus replied and stopped dead in his tracks. Hugo ran around to face him, gesturing back at the street they were walking down.
“Look at what we’re doing! Come on!” He snapped and watched as the other carefully looked up at the sky, thinking about his next words.
“You know,” The phrase started off slow and calculated, “Your mentor has taught you a lot. But something she hasn’t gotten to yet is how to know when to step back. You let your emotions get the best of you.”
“Psh,” A frustrated scoff as the boy crossed his arms, “Yeah, what does she know about that? She doesn’t feel anything.” There was no response so he kept talking, kicking at a stone on the ground as he continued to walk in the direction they were going with the man close by. “Has she always been like this?”
Thinking for a moment, he spoke with a hesitant nature. “She’s always been a little quiet, a bit odd, passionate about her work.”
That was interrupted by a harsh laugh, “Passionate? Please, Cyrus- I’m not an idiot,” But those words felt hollow and sometimes Hugo wondered if he just said things like that to try and feel a little less empty- like maybe if he said them they’d be true. “That woman barely cares about anything. And even less if it’s not made of metal.”
A bit of silence, he looked over to find the man staring at him with equal confusion. Hugo was quick to keep talking, when was he not? “And right now doesn’t count. She’s just… she just doesn’t trust me to do it right. Or she knows something I don’t and doesn’t want to lose her thief. Or-”
“Kid,” Cyrus interrupted and held up a hand, “She’s doing this for you. Not some mission or plan.” The man spoke as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
“And how am I supposed to believe that?” He tucked his thumbs into his pockets as he walked, “One of the things she did teach me was to never believe something without evidence.”
Hugo watched as he opened his mouth before closing it again, rubbing at his temples before continuing. For two people so smart sometimes it felt as if he was the most intelligent in the room. “Have you realized how tired she’s been recent? Lack of sleep.”
“Yeah, she’s hella busy and staying up later to get work done, so?”
A breath, the street was starting to go uphill as they walked. The stones underneath their feet were rough and unkempt, tripping hazards for those who didn’t grow up with rough underfoot and foundations. “If that were true then she’d have the entire order list finished already,” There was a slight pause as he shifted to avoid a pothole filled with water, “She’s been staying up waiting for you to get back safely. Even if she won’t admit it.”
He said it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. Hugo let his eyes linger on the ground as he remembered those nights. She’d get up as soon as he was back, look over what he took, and go to bed immediately. And now that he was thinking about it there were never projects on the desks, only a book or maybe a puzzle to keep her occupied. Taking in a breath, there was this lump in his throat. Guilt.
“Did you know she learned to cook for you?” The man went on now that they arrived at the market. Both of them took in a new outward persona, looking to seem more intimidating to fend off pick-pockets as they walked down the stalls. “Never knew that woman to even step in the kitchen before you came along.”
“I thought-” His voice was getting quiet as he spoke, “I thought she was bad at it because she didn’t care.”
“She probably wanted you to think that, to be fair,” Cyrus curled his hand with his wedding band on it closed, tucking his finger into his leg to hide the shiny metal from sight. “But she is terrible.”
That got a light laugh from the boy, though it felt hollow and empty as he trailed behind.
“I can remember- what was she like when I was younger?” His voice broke when he asked, this longing that twisted his words and constricted them.
Cyrus paused, glancing at his watch before deciding they could start going back. He turned on his heel and made sure Hugo was close before walking. “It took a while but- eventually I couldn’t get her alone without you at her side or on her shoulders.”
And he could remember it, vaguely at least- these foggy fragments in his mind. “Why did she stop then-”
“Kid, she never stopped caring about you,” At those words, like a key in a locked chest, moments flooded back. Gentle hands stitching up cuts and holding ice to bruises, delicately cutting back his hair until it was exactly as he wanted it, hours spent listening to him talk and talk and talk- he never knew another soul who could just listen to him. Who could just see him.
“I get that I just- why did she feel the need to pull away from me?”
A final shrug, which was Cyrus’s most common form of response, “That’s not my story to tell.”
The rest of the walk home was taken in silence. Every step sent shockwaves rushing through his bones, his heart beat so loudly he could barely think. Every step he was hoping, every step he was begging- let her be okay. Let her be okay.
The lab was in view, their porchlight glowing in the darkness. He found himself breaking into a run, Cyrus dead on his heels. He paused at the door, carefully turning the knob despite everything in him telling him to rush inside. But he pushed open the door gently and listened for any noise before deciding it was safe and bolting into the familiar sanctuary.
His first day there he had clung onto her leg, terrified that she’d be gone the second he let go. And, rather than prying him off, she sat there with him for hours in silence. The next day she went out and filled the empty cupboards with food from the market that he picked out, and the next he had his own space in her lab to sit and watch if he would like. He never fully processed how walking through this doorway would fill him with this sense of security, how she gave him comfort when he had none.
But this time, as he looked over the bookshelf with a couple scrolls and papers strewn about, the tipped-over chair in the corner of the room, all that came over him was dread that opened a pit in his stomach. And he saw her on the ground, the edges of his vision narrowing slightly. She was laying on her side, back towards him, her hair all messy and out of place. It was wrong, not just shocking but so incorrect that it made his insides twist because Donella was always so strong, always so stubborn and determined he swore nothing would ever hurt her. No-
He threw himself forwards, landing on his knees and putting a hand on her shoulder. There was a dark, nearly brown smear across her temple, one of her eye whites was turning red. Her mouth was open, a cut dragged along her cheek. But her chest was rising, it was shaky but it was rising. And suddenly he could breathe again. “Don!” He choked out and didn’t even realize he was crying until his voice broke and a sob gripped his body. “Don I’m so sorry I’m so-”
A shaky hand, cold like a dead man’s, reached up and cupped his cheek. He stopped, that gentle touch imprinted in his mind as the same one that would pick him up when he had fallen, the same one that would hold him late at night. A cough gripped her limp body, making her convulse slightly as she turned her head and hacked up blood onto the already stained floor. Taking in a breath, she did her best to compose herself.
“I thought I-” Her voice was raspy, struggling to form words, “I thought I told you to leave for three hours. It’s been two and fifty-three minutes.”
He watched her lips pull into a tiny smile, something that looked so foreign and so right on her face. A laugh as he blinked and a single tear rolled down his cheek that she wiped at with her thumb. “I’m- I’m sorry, Don.” He choked out but felt her push at his temple with her fingers, her touch was light.
“It’s okay, Kid. I’m- it’s nice to see you.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as they grinned up at him. He grabbed onto her hand and pressed her palm into his cheek, turning his face into her touch just as Cyrus walked over with the chair that he sat upright.
“Can you sit?” He asked calmly and Donella, without letting her arm drop from where it cupped his head so delicately, started to push herself up with a little groan that left her lips without her intent.
Hugo found his hand gently resting on his side, just on her ribcage as she curled into herself. It was a stabbing sort of pain, the kind that made her wince and stars freckle the edges of her vision. Regrettably, he had never seen this much expression on her face until now.
“Nothing broken,” She eventually choked out and nodded as the man walked over. Hugo scooted out of the way as he helped her up and sat her down in the chair. Slouching a little, she leaned back and breathed out a quiet sigh as her eyes closed and her arms hung limply at her side. “Thank you, Cyrus.”
A quiet nod as he went to the kitchen, the sound of ice filling a bucket and then cold water could be heard as the boy moved to kneel beside her and hold her hand hesitantly. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away and held on tighter. He opened his mouth to speak but fell silent as he watched her also do so.
“There’s a reason you’ve been acting out lately, isn’t there?”
He nodded and observed the sickly green and purple bruise forming around one of her eyes which was starting to swell.
A pause, “And it’s because of me?” She raised an eyebrow at him before flinching from the reflex that told him ‘don’t lie to me’. He nodded again. “Would you like to explain?” That was always the thing with her, he was always allowed to speak his mind. And he didn’t quite realize how much of a luxury that was. She always heard him or listened to him the best she could at the time.
So, while gently running his thumbs over her knuckles and around the callouses on her palms, he started. “I’ve been… angry. At you,” The words were squeaked out, not from fear because there was no punishment around her for speaking the truth. It was more from shame. “I thought you hated me and I didn’t know why- and it was easier to be mad at you than-”
His voice faltered but from the look on her face, he knew she understood. It was easier to be angry than to be hurt. What felt like a million years ago, she had realized the same thing about another person she pushed away. Donella nodded about to speak before Cyrus came back with some clean rags and a bucket of ice water.
He set it down promptly and dipped a smaller one in, wringing it out before gently laying the makeshift cool pack across her neck where the faint marks of fingers were starting to darken. He and Hugo worked together, gently lifting up her shirt with permission to place one against her abdomen where a large scrape covered her side. The temperature difference would numb the pain, at least long enough for her to be able to move and finish cleaning herself up. Once they were finished the man stood.
“Don’t let me keep Mona, waiting too long tonight,” Donella whispered and gave him a small nod that the man returned before glancing at Hugo and turning, leaving out the door silently. She was already starting to sit up a little straighter and eventually pushed herself to her feet. Turning towards him, he offered his arm at which she looked away and started to walk by herself to her room. It took everything in him not to help her as she leaned against the wall and moved with excruciating slowness. “Let’s talk later, after I’m not bleeding.”
“Alright,” He replied and forced his steps to stop outside her door. He stared at the light underneath, wanting to knock or somehow bypass the divide between them and just- just be with her. He just wanted to be with her and he didn’t realize how he was shoving down that desire with his flashy show-offs and snarky attitude until now. Standing on the other side of the wood, he put a hand to the surface and felt this force pulling down on his shoulders as he rested his forehead.
Regret. Because none of this had to happen. And how ironic was it, that he spent so much time wishing she could see him while being unable to see her.
~~
Her eyes widened when she pushed open the door, one stained red from a busted vessel. It was clear she didn’t expect to see him sitting in the hallway waiting for her. She had changed into clean clothes, pajamas, and he could see the peaks of bandages from underneath. Gesturing, he walked inside and watched to his surprise as she sat down at her bedside and patted the space next to her. Hesitantly, he approached and stiffly sat down.
“Can I talk?” She asked so genuinely, giving him a chance to further air out his thoughts. But the boy just nodded his head and allowed her to continue. “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Donella stared and he watched as she played with her fingers in her lap, tugging on them. “And I owe you an apology. Many.”
“No, you don’t!” He interrupted and found himself reaching out before pulling back because how dare he- how dare he even try to touch her when he was the reason she was bruised and battered and in pain. Maybe he didn’t try to hurt her, he never wanted to hurt her but did that even matter? He could see how she winced with every breath, he could see what she didn’t want him to. Bringing his hands to his chest to keep himself from reaching for her, he watched as she gently held out her arms in response. There was a softness to her gaze, this invitation to come to her- to come back- back to what they used to be in the foggiest hints of his memories. Come home.
He sniffed, choking on a little gasp as he leaned forwards and did his best to restrain himself as he held onto her and grabbed fistfuls of the back of her shirt with his hands. Burying his face into her shoulder, he closed his eyes and took in the smell of cold metal that instantly felt like safety. Her head gently rested against the side of his, her fingers on his back and tracing tiny calming circles along her spine.”I missed you so much.”
The words squeezed his throat when he spoke as if they were pulling his entire heart out along with them. And, to his relief, he felt her grip tighten.
“I missed you too,” She whispered, her lips brushing his temple, “I’m so sorry I pushed you away.”
“Why did you?” He replied before he could stop himself, “Was there just something wrong with me?” Lifting his face, he blinked away blurry vision to see how utterly shocked her face looked before it fell into despair.
“What?” Barely a sound as she cupped his cheeks and held him so delicately, “No- oh Demanitus no, Hugo.” And he knew that it wasn’t true, that she never stopped caring about him. He knew from her actions, how his room was always clean and clothes always washed, how silent birthday presents appeared on his bed, and how he never stood in harm’s way when she was around. But even so, it left him wondering why. Her thumb traced his cheekbone, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear? There is nothing wrong with you.”
Maybe she had tried to stop, maybe it would have been easier if she never started in the first place. But from the moment she met him in that dark alleyway something inside her changed, like their paths were woven together from that moment on and there was nothing she could do about it. As much as she tried to push him away for good, something inside her knew she needed him.
“Then why? Donella please I- I need to know.”
“You deserve to,” And she hesitated, he could feel her touch falter on his cheeks as she looked away. His eyes went to her scars, those scratches or cracks on her face that he always knew never to touch- never to stare at for too long. “But I’m sorry I- I can’t tell you. Not yet.”
Her hands were shaking as she remembered, the sound of spells rushing through the air and screaming was first, though they quieted and all that was left were Ulla’s begs. Pleas to not leave her, to stay- and Donella remembered how she hardened her jaw, stretching the wounds on her face, and walked out of the Library for good. A force tugged at her shoulders, guilt- regret even.
Hugo’s hands on her own brought her back, his touch soothing her jittery nature enough for her to speak again. It was like coming up from drowning. “Part of it was that I-” She gritted her teeth and her cheek tugged, “I didn’t think I could love you in the way you deserved. I didn’t want to hurt you- but I did. And I apologize- for everything I’ve done.”
Leaning forwards, she flinched and brought a hand to her side. He was brought to attention at that and reshifted his focus, “Do you need to lay down?”
A small nod and he helped her scoot to lay back against the pillow before sitting next to her. He watched as she let out a sigh of relief, this agonized expression on her face leaving for a moment before it returned, but slightly different. And he realized. “You’re hurt.” He stated and watched her blank expression- bewildered, “You’ve been hurt for a long time. Long before me.” Slowly, her face morphed into understanding. Green eyes looked away from him, at something he couldn’t know. Long ago, the walls of the Eternal Library were bathed in a light of blue and green- a show only she could see.
Her bottom lip trembled, she blinked away the stinging sensation that was starting to develop and swallowed hard. She had never heard that out loud before, never had reassurance that her suffering was even real.
“That’s part of it, isn’t it?” A stiff nod, he could tell she was trying to keep it together.
“I didn’t want to break you- I didn’t-” Taking in a sharp breath, she held it for a moment as if trying to reset herself, “I didn’t want you to end up like me.”
Her jaw clenched right after she said that, squeaked out words from behind gritted teeth. Donella turned her face into the pillow slightly, hiding her scars from view. There was shifting next to her, and she opened her eyes to be face to face with those green irises and freckled cheeks.
A blink and they were blue, another and fiery red hair- that smile that made the world stop spinning and her heart beat- she made her feel like a person, like she was actually alive, like she was someone. A blink and Hugo’s face was back in full view, laying down beside her.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” He reached out and held her hand, squeezing a bit, “You won’t break me because you are not broken.”
At those words, there was a rumbling in her ears- like everything else was put on pause or frozen as she stared at him with wide eyes- as if the concept was so foreign to her she couldn’t process it. And he watched as her walls all came tumbling down. She grabbed onto his hand, squeezing as tightly as she could manage as her once controlled expression dissolved into sobs. A choked cry that made her side ache but she didn’t care, like rain in a drought- there was a wash of relief once everything was finally let go. He scooted closer, holding onto her in the dimly lit room as her hand gently ran through his hair and her thumb pet the back of his head.
Once the tears had left her, she wiped at her face with the back of her palms. Her scars were itching, but once Hugo took her fingers any urge to scratch at them dissipated. “One day I’ll- I’ll get there and I’ll tell you about the why.” She replied, a promise that he could hear in her voice. He scooted closer and allowed himself to melt into her touch, resting his face against her chest right where her heart beat. Hugo could feel the way she seemed to relax like this burden had been lifted. He let his eyes close. “I’ll be the person you deserve. I promise.”
“You already are,” He whispered, a thank you for all the years of silent protection, of silent love that was so subtle it was easily forgotten- but that was the beauty of it. To be loved so wholly and so regularly that it became unnoticeable. “You always were.”