Independent Clay Morrow
highly selective & semi-private
written by Cat
every remaining fiber of strength , every ounce of energy which was not already destroyed urges her to HIDE herself. curl tighter into the blanket , hide her face behind her hands , all so clay will not see her thus ; broken and bruised , nothing but shattered pride cloaked in the nighttime air , left upon the step like a neglected child. what she would give to disappear. ( always she had existed just a little too LOUDLY , and for now , she would give anything to be silence ) his hand is upon her face , gentle to turn her towards him , and lids fall shut to hide honey colored hues. her face is a canvas of bruises and minor cuts , the echoes of unkind hands which found themselves there. small , unpermitted whimper slips forth at the touch , and she can offer only a shake of her head when he asks. it was bad enough that he could see her now , but she need not put faces to the men who ravaged her. his mind would be enemy enough. his arms slip beneath her and gemma groans , eyes squeezing shut , ❛ —— OW . ❜ her head settles into the crook of his shoulder , despite the ache of bruised cheekbone upon clavicle , ❛ get…. get me inside. ❜
the noise if discomfort causes distress in larger frame , hands as gentle as he knows how to be upon her body , yet it still doesn’t feel enough . sharp intake of breath && he shifts back through the door , with gaze not once shifting from her face ; concern draws sharp lines && he takes note of every single mark , every bruise to gift upon whoever had done this when he got his hands on them . lips brush her temple with the turn of his head ; he’s not known for gentleness , for a touch that isn’t violent , yet with her , in this moment , he can’t help but be feather light in touch && ensure that not further harm comes to the woman in his arms . the light from the sitting room almost feels too HARSH && he wants to take her elsewhere , yet there is a grief within himself that prevents him from going further than the lounge set.
he places her gently , so gently , with fingertips barely touching her face in given affection . ❝ i’ll kill ‘em , Gem . every last one of them . ❞ but voice is soft , softer than perhaps he’s ever been , && he’s on his knees at her side , both hands taking one of hers to smooth thumb over her knuckles .
❝ who ? ❞