Third Person's PoV
The night had bestowed upon Kian an unexpected gift, the presence of a young soul, her breaths a soft cadence in the quiet of his room. He watched over her, a silent sentinel, as she surrendered to dreams in his bed. The thought of waking her, even for the warmth of a bath, was dismissed with a gentle shake of his head. She was the picture of innocence, and he, the keeper of her peace.
With the girl cradled in the cocoon of his blankets, Kian retreated to the solitude of the shower. The water was a cleansing balm, not just for the skin but for the spirit, washing away the tension that had knotted his muscles. Nightwear donned, he lingered at the threshold of his bedroom, a quiet resolve settling in his chest.
The library became his refuge, a place where he could keep watch without intrusion. The books around him stood as silent witnesses to his vigil. There, in the soft glow of the lamplight, Kian settled, his thoughts adrift between the pages and the slumbering girl who had, even if just for a night, turned his house into a home.
Kian awoke with a sense of giddiness, an unusual lightness in his step as he set about preparing breakfast. His thoughts were consumed by the girl, the young woman who seemed to weigh no more than a whisper. The events of the previous night hung heavily in the air, and he found himself hoping she would allow him to accompany her to the police station.
As the bacon sizzled in the pan, Kian resolved to gently rouse the young girl once breakfast was ready. However, she caught him off guard, appearing silently beside him just as he was transferring the crispy strips onto a plate. Her sudden presence sent his heart racing, a jolt of surprise that was both alarming and delightful.
They sat down to eat, and Kian couldn't help but admire the girl's disheveled hair, finding it endearingly cute despite his internal protests. He wasn't the type to ogle, he assured himself; it was simply that 'his little girl', in her morning state, was irresistibly charming.
The girl's voice broke through his reverie, expressing her wish for Kian to be by her side at the police station. His heart swelled with a mix of happiness and determination; he would do anything within his power to ensure her happiness, to make her the most contented 'little girl' in the world.
A blush crept across her cheeks as Kian commented on her tousled hair, the words slipping out before he could censor them. He mentally chastised himself, fearing he had crossed a line. Above all, he wanted her to feel comfortable and safe, to know she was accepted just as she was.
"H-how's your s-sleep, Kian?"
As he rose to fetch some milk from the fridge, his movements were watched by the young woman whose presence had become a soothing balm to his weary soul.
With a gentle smile, he turned to her, the morning light casting a halo around her delicate features. "I slept so well," he confessed, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you. It might sound a bit odd, and I meant to ask last night, but in the comfort of your company, it slipped my mind. I never got your name. Please, don't be alarmed."
He busied himself with the task at hand, pouring almond milk into a glass with a precision that betrayed his inner turmoil. The sound of her laughter, light and unburdened, filled the room, causing him to nearly fumble the carton.
Was she truly laughing? The sound was so sweet, so genuine, that for a moment, Kian questioned the reality of it. It was a melody that seemed to sing directly to his soul, illuminating her face with an otherworldly glow. She was the very embodiment of innocence and beauty, a stark contrast to the shadows that often lingered in Kian's world.
"I'm s-sorry," she stammered, her laughter subsiding as she fought to regain composure. "It's just… I find it a-amusing that I forg-got to share my own name as well."
In that simple exchange, a bond of mutual vulnerability and trust was forged, marking the beginning of a connection that promised to heal the wounds of their pasts.
Kian settled into the seat beside her, his meal nearly finished on the plate before him. Skyler did the same, pausing to sip from her glass of milk before she spoke.
"Um… m-my name i-is Skyler," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of her vulnerability.
"Skyler. Sky?" Kian repeated, a softness in his tone. "That's so adorable, just like you. You're my little sky," he affirmed with a gentle conviction.
Skyler bristled slightly at the description, her independence surfacing despite the comfort of his words. "B-but I'm n-not l-little. I mean, I'm five and t-three feet, but that doesn't mean I'm small and little," she argued, her words a quiet yet determined protest.
Kian's response was a tender chuckle, his gaze never leaving her face. "No, you're my little sky, baby. No arguing," he said, his voice a soothing murmur. "You're cute, adorable, and beautiful all at once. How do you manage that? It seems impossible, but with you, it's as if perfection has taken form. You are now my sky. Those beautiful blue eyes of yours, they're like the endless skies that I so admire. You're my everything," he whispered, the last words a caress to her soul.
"I'm p-perfect?" Skyler asked, disbelief tinting her query.
"Yes, you are. You're perfect, and I'm telling you this because it's the truth," Kian replied, his affirmation unwavering. "I love your smile, your giggle, the way your nose scrunches when you sleep, and how your eyes shine with emotions so deep, they're beyond my understanding. You're perfect, Sky."
Skyler nibbled on the last piece of her bacon, her actions punctuated by a sip of milk, as she addressed the unease that lingered in the air.
"Y-you… you watched me s-sleep? That's… c-creepy, Kian," she said, the words tumbling out with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Kian's response was immediate, his voice laced with an earnest plea for understanding. "Does that make you uncomfortable, my little sky? It was an accident, I assure you. Last night, when I exchanged your jacket for my hoodie, I couldn't help but notice you," he explained, his words a gentle rush of reassurance. "I was worried when I found you unconscious. It must have been the exhaustion and hunger. Please, don't think I'd ever take advantage of you," he implored, only to be silenced by Skyler's gentle touch.
"I'm n-not uncomfortable with y-you," Skyler interjected, her stutter less pronounced as she found solace in his presence. "I don't know why, but I feel so safe with you. I crave your p-presence, I—I need you. Is that creepy? We've only known each other for more than ten hours, but your p-pesence… it gives me butterf-flies, here, in my stomach," she confessed, her cheeks warming with a blush as she bowed her head in a shy pout.
Kian's heart swelled at her admission, a wide smile spreading across his face. He shared her fluttering sensation but held back, not wanting to overwhelm her.
"Butterflies, little sky?" he inquired, his fingers gently coaxing her chin upward, guiding her gaze to meet his. The sight of tears brimming in her beautiful blue eyes caught him off guard. "Oh no! Why the tears, baby? My little sky?" he asked, panic threading through his voice as he tenderly wiped her tears with his thumbs. "Tell me, why are you crying?"
Skyler's voice trembled as she sought comfort, "I d-don't know Kian. C-can I h-hug y-you?"
Without a word, Kian lifted her little form onto his lap, enveloping her in a protective embrace. His right hand traced soothing patterns on her back, while his other arm supported her waist, anchoring her to him.
"Why is she crying, hmm?" Kian whispered into her ear, feeling her body shiver against his. He responded to her tremors by tightening his embrace, a silent vow of safety.
"K-kian?" Skyler's voice was a soft call, seeking reassurance in the storm of her emotions.
"Yes, my little sky?" he replied, his hand continuing its calming journey across her back.
"A-are you d-disgusted with h-how I talk?" Skyler's insecurities surfaced, her words muffled against his neck. "I sometimes hate this s-stutter. It made me lose my job, and now I feel like I'm invading your privacy with how clingy I am," she confessed, her breath warm on his skin. "Do you still want to talk to me? Why aren't you disg-gusted with how I talk? You said I am p-perfect, but I'm not. Look at me, I'm s-stuttering, I'm fat, I don't deserve someone as kind as you. And these butterf-flies in my stom-mach, what are they? Am I sick?" Her questions were interspersed with sniffles, her vulnerability laid bare.
Kian was at a loss, his experience with women limited to his mother and Krizah. Doubt crept into his mind, questioning his ability to be what Skyler needed, to be worthy of the trust she placed in him.
"Little sky," Kian whispered, his voice a soothing balm as he held her close. "Let's play a game. I want to know you more. And please, don't speak ill of yourself. You're perfect, and I want you to remember that always. You're not invading my privacy; your presence is cherished," he confessed, his thick Italian accent betraying his nervousness.
Skyler lifted her head from the sanctuary of his neck, her tear-stained cheeks and bright blue eyes meeting his gaze. "A game? What k-kind of game?" she asked, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes despite the tears.
With a tender gesture, Kian wiped away her tears and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead, eliciting a peaceful closure of her eyes.
"What kind of game?" he echoed, a playful curiosity in his tone.
She nodded eagerly, her small hands dabbing at her eyes, a semblance of composure returning.
"How about this: take a shower, and we'll play a game in the car. Is that okay with you?" Kian suggested, his voice steady until a sudden realization struck him. "I've already washed and dried your jacket, but… my little sky, I think I've forgotten something," he admitted, his voice laced with panic.
Skyler's eyes widened at his sudden distress. In response, Kian pulled her even closer, his embrace a fortress as he took a deep breath, seeking calm in the storm of his own making.
He had forgotten to remind her to change into fresh clothes the night before, too captivated by the sight of her curled up on the sofa, his hoodie a soft cocoon around her delicate frame.
Skyler, no longer shadowed by sobs, offered a gentle tease, her fingers playfully pinching Kian's reddened cheeks. "You're b-blushing, Kian. Just as a-adorable and cute," she whispered, her words a soothing balm to his flustered state.
Kian's heart sank with guilt as he reiterated the oversight. "You don't have any underwear, my little sky. It's truly my fault," he lamented, the weight of responsibility heavy in his tone.
Yet, Skyler, ever the beacon of forgiveness, brushed aside his concerns with a tender kiss upon his forehead. "It's not your fault. There's always a remedy," she assured him, her voice a melody of comfort.
Kian, nearly undone by her affection, fretted aloud, his habitual forgetfulness a thorn in his side. "How, my little sky? I neglected to order some, and I'm prone to forgetting. I hope it doesn't unsettle you," he said, his teeth capturing his lower lip in anxious anticipation.
"Don't bite your lips, it'll b-bleed," Skyler chided softly, her touch as light as a feather against his jaw, her thumb coaxing his lip free from the grip of his teeth.
With a heart full of apologies, Kian sought her forgiveness, his words a whisper of remorse. "I'm sorry, my little sky," he murmured, the last thing he wanted was to distress her with his shortcomings.
Kian watched her, his eyes a steady presence. "Sky," he began, his voice a gentle rumble, "why don't you take a warm shower? It might help." He suggested it as a kindness, a simple act of self-care that felt monumental to her.
She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a turmoil of emotions. "I… I don't know if I can," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.
His presence enveloping her in an invisible embrace. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he assured her, his tone firm yet tender. "But remember, you're safe here with me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
Skyler nodded, her movements small and fragile. She allowed herself to lean into him, seeking the solace of his strength. Kian's hand gently stroked her back, a silent promise of protection.
"Let's take it one step at a time," he said, guiding her towards the bathroom. "A shower is just a shower. Maybe play a game on the ride. No pressure, just… us getting to know each other."
She rolled up her sleeves, revealing the tapestry of her torment—scars in various stages of healing, a stark contrast to her delicate skin. Kian's breath hitched, his heart aching at the sight, but he remained silent, giving her the space to continue.
"These… these are the m-marks left on me," Skyler continued, her fingers tracing the edges of a particularly dark scar. "But the ones i-inside, they hurt even more." Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
Kian reached out, his touch gentle as a feather, as he covered her hands with his own. "You don't have to bear this alone anymore," he said, his voice firm with resolve. "I'm here for you, Sky. Your pain is my pain, and together, we'll heal these wounds."
Skyler looked into Kian's eyes, finding an ocean of empathy and strength. In that moment, she knew she had found her ally, her protector, and perhaps, the key to mending the broken pieces of her being.
Kian's heart clenched as Skyler, without a word, nodded vigorously and sought refuge in the warmth of his embrace, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. He felt a sob rise in his own throat, the intensity of her sorrow echoing in his chest. The bruises and cuts she spoke of were not just marks on her skin but scars on his soul, for he knew all too well the silent language of abuse.
Tears threatened to blur his vision, but he fought them back, determined to be her pillar of strength. "Sssh, my little sky," he soothed, his voice a tender whisper meant only for her ears. "You're safe here with me. Lean on me, let me be your sanctuary. Speak to me, and together, we'll build a fortress of solace. Your mere presence is a balm to my being, my little sky. And I… I cherish you, just as you are."
He whispered these words like a sacred mantra, his hands gently caressing her shoulders in an attempt to still her quaking form. "I can't bear to see you in pain," he murmured into the void, half-hoping his words could rewrite reality, that the nightmare of her tears would dissolve at his command.
Powerless to erase her anguish but desperate to offer solace, Kian did the only thing he could – he held her close, his whispers a steady stream of reassurance. "I'm here, you're safe, you're mine," he repeated, each word a brushstroke in the painting of their shared sanctuary. As he ran his fingers through her hair and traced soothing patterns on her back, Skyler's breathing gradually found its rhythm, a testament to the quiet strength of his unwavering presence.
In the quiet aftermath of her ordeal, Skyler sought the comfort of a shower, her voice quivering with hiccups and the remnants of sobs. "Kian? S-shower?" she inquired, her eyes searching for reassurance.
Kian offered her a gentle smile, his words light and teasing, an attempt to dissolve the tension that clung to the air. "Sure thing, little Sky. You better be, 'cause I know you need it. My cute little sky, hmm?" His playful tone was a balm to her frayed nerves.
Skyler's response was timid, her hiccups punctuating her words. "Yeah. I don't want to b-bother you, but I need a s-shower and Bren," she admitted, her sobs subsiding into a fragile calm.
A wave of relief washed over Kian, only to be replaced by a scowl of confusion. Bren? The name sparked a flurry of questions. Was Bren her boyfriend? A suitor, perhaps? The thought unsettled him.
"Bren? And who is Bren, little Sky? Do I need to worry about another man I might have to compete with for your attention? Please tell me he isn't," Kian pleaded, a pout forming on his lips, half in jest, half in earnest concern.
Skyler's reply came with a gentle tug at the buttons of his dress shirt, her fingers fiddling with the fabric as she sought to steady her breathing. "Nooo. Bren is m-mine. Don't be m-mad at him," she murmured, her voice still laced with hiccups.
Kian's expression softened into a sad pout, his curiosity unsated. "Little sky, who is Bren, huh? Please tell me," he implored, his gaze locked onto hers.
Skyler's blue eyes met his, a soft smile gracing her features despite the rosy hue of her tear-stained cheeks. "Bren is my s-stuffie. I missed him. Can we go get him after the p-police? I just wanna c-cuddle him, and you can meet him! He's so a-adorable," she explained, her lips curving into a smile that held a hint of temptation for Kian. He pushed aside the allure of her lips, his own stretching into a wide grin upon understanding her attachment to the beloved stuffed companion.
"It seems Bren will be my rival for cuddles," he mused, preparing himself for the challenge. Turning his attention to Skyler, he knew it was time to help her feel more comfortable. "A shower will do you good, and afterwards, I'll braid your beautiful, shiny hair," he suggested gently.
Skyler's eyes still red from crying. Kian whispered soothingly, "Bren is your stuffie, right? Let's bring him along. Maybe you won't cry if he's with us." Her pout, both cute and heart-wrenching, tugged at his heartstrings.
"We can c-cuddle Bren," Skyler murmured, her voice small.
Kian chuckled softly. "Uh-oh, but it's you I want to cuddle," he replied, his tone light.
Skyler's pout deepened, her innocence shining through. "Noooo, if you m-meet Bren, y-you'll want to cuddle him too. He's so soft, like super soft."
"Mhm, let's see about that. So, how about that shower?" Kian said, changing the subject. He checked the water temperature, making sure it was just right before finding some of his hoodies and boxers for Skyler to wear. "I'll take a quick shower after you, and then we're good to go. How does that sound, baby?" he asked, his hands gently massaging her shoulder blades. She shivered slightly, and he realized she must be cold.
"Sounds g-good!" Skyler agreed, her spirits lifting slightly.
Kian smiled, his affection for her evident. Yet, internally, he seethed at the harsh words she had spoken against herself. He resolved to help her see her own perfection, to understand that she was far more than she believed.
***
Mary Joye.