2019
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheek. He traced the path of the tears with his finger and wiped the moisture away.
“I can’t bear to see you cry.”
She winced ever so slightly at his touch, a completely involuntary reflex that nevertheless caused his face to darken in anger. He spun and booted the nearest object, a wooden armchair that practically disintegrated into a mist of sawdust and woodchip on contact with the wall. Pacing the room, he began the familiar rant about how it wasn’t his fault that he always hurt her. He didn’t mean to. She was so fragile, and he was so strong. He barely had to touch her, and bones would snap.
You could just not touch me, she thought but did not dare suggest. If she were not his to use as he pleased, she would cease
