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 .
the painted wooden steps are cold beneath her , they press roughly into bruises and fresh abrasions. she wants nothing more than a break from this pain. eyes flutter , a mingled mess of tears and smeared makeup as she attempts to bring the world into focus. figure looms over her and hands blindly fumble , attempting to place themselves between battered face and the person looking down on her. ❛ no —— no , please… ❜ she couldn’t take anymore , hadn’t they already had their fill ? again and again and again , no matter how much she screamed and begged , they’d continued their assault. could they not allow her this piece now ? and when hands move to the blanket , body stiffens , whimper drawn from her throat , but the voice that meets her is familiar. it’s that of a man she loves. who loved her. or had loved her before she became this. ❛ —— clay ? ❜
anger crawls up his throat , fingers twitching && he wants to BEAT someone , something , anything - but the fact …. it’s GEMMA laying beneath that blanket , it’s Gemma small && fragile beneath his touch ( hands built for war , yet with her you’re so passive ) . there is a moment wherein he FREEZES , seemingly unable to process the fact that his wife was the one curled against wood && stone , thin blanket around shoulders built for bearing weights far greater than herself - teeth grit && jaw sets ; he’ll kill them , whoever did this , he’d END them . ❝ Gemma , baby … ❞ he’s drawn closer , almost worried to put hands on her in case she SHATTERS beneath his touch , yet one palm cups her cheek , gently ( so gently ) turning her face to his , ❝ what – who ? ❞ words have FAILED , entire from rigid with harsh ground biting into his knees ,yet he wont move , not until he can move her with him . ❝ hold on … just – ❞ it’s with tenderness ever only reserved for her that both arms slip beneath her , bridal style hold && carry ; cautious .
if the first time had aimed to SEND A MESSAGE then this time it was meant to DESTROY. to turn the most valued club possession to rubble. ( leave the KING vulnerable —— CHECKMATE. ) she’d been so careful. held the gun so close. was wary of anyone who approached her. but still , these precautions could not save her from the brute strength/ of multiple men. it did not save her from them. and perhaps now it was too late to be saved at all. they drop her on the front steps unceremoniously , clutching only to a thin blanket to cover herself from the night air or prying eyes. ( had it hurt this bad the FIRST time ? no —— this was so much WORSE. )
he doesn’t waste time in yanking open the door , instantly pointing gun outwards with finger hooked around the trigger . he doesn’t look downwards , doesn’t notice the small bundle draped across harsh ground – he’s about to let it go , but SOMETHING prompts downwards gaze , dragging attentions . violence drilled into his bones , there was no SOFTNESS within him ( except for her , you love her ) yet the very instant umber gaze finds her form … he’s on his knees in a heartbeat , r e a c h i n g for her as though checking that it was her , that it was REAL . hands meet scratchy blanket , callous fingers searching for familiar frame beneath thin fabric , yet he’s being gentle , concern deep-set into the lines of his face , && the shake within strong tone foreign . ❝ gemma ? gem– ?! ❞
