She wouldn't let him hold her. It was her choice, and one that drew his lips into a frown. He stifled a wince as she hurled insults fueled by fear, anger, hatred. Of him, the entire fucked up situation. Reminders flitted through his head that she had reached her limit. She was panicking.
"Sure, I'm not a damn Sunday school teacher, but I am nothing like my father." Connor refused to believe he was anywhere near the old man's circle of Hell. Each statement she refuted bent his willpower like a willow branch. "And you're not expendable. Look, everyone under this roof is mine. They aren't animals either--fuck, Piper. I'm not a damned monster."
She wasn't listening. Wrapped up in her fear and anger and honest-to-God beliefs. He couldn't blame her and the reminder that she'd been at the mercy of his father's men helped him battle the urge to prove her wrong. She wasn't ready, and she needed to get this out of her system. She simply needed to calm. Further and further he weathered it as she worked herself up to a screech, bending until his ferocious hold on that branch of sense nearly bled. It became brittle with a wild strike of her legs.
"Piper." He grabbed her ankle tightly, instinct he regretted as she flailed at him. As she hurt herself. He hadn't been prepared for that. An attack against him, sure. But moving around like that in her current state had to be painful. He'd sworn not to harm her--and now that promise included keeping her from harming herself. Command entered his tone. "Piper. Stop this."
A droplet of soup caught on the pale, 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw when she hurled her dish past his head. He swiped it away with his free hand. Frightening her by forcing her to still wasn't yet on the menu. He wasn't a monster. Wouldn't make her right. The bowl must've hit the end table or the head of the bed; he heard the tinkle of broken shards mixed in with her curses. Her foot connected with his kidney and Connor didn't hide the wince this time. His grip eased and he even considered letting her go, if only to keep her from kicking or hitting something that would scatter more purple and blue smudges across her skin.
Except. Fresh blossoms of scarlet sprouted through her clothes. Instead of relenting for the night as he'd planned, instead of giving her space post-dinner, he could do neither. The taut branch of his willpower snapped.
"I ALREADY HAVE." The words ripped from his throat. Connor grabbed her other foot as she howled at him and kicked out, then he hauled her wriggling body gracelessly across the coverlet. Heedless of fists and feet and knees and elbows and words and teeth, he wrestled her toward the pillows. They could both be matching shades of purple come morning. Would, if straddling her thighs and pinning her legs with his didn't keep her from trying to buck him off.
Let her hate me. She's fucking bleeding. This is for her own good. The resolve twisted in his chest. He didn't want that. He didn't want Piper to look at him with the kind of fire that lit her eyes now.
Leaving her hands free probably wasn't smart but he did it anyway, letting her burn through her energy with as minimal damage to herself as possible. Every inch of him wanted to finish off the position by pinning her wrists over her fiery little head. The desire to push her to that limit burned into his mind like a brand. Not like this. He would not. It's bad enough I have to...He leaned over her, his voice low. "What, you don't care who gets hurt, so long as you go back to your life? You want everyone you care for to die, is that it?"
"Sure, I'm not a damn Sunday school teacher, but I am nothing like my father." Connor refused to believe he was anywhere near the old man's circle of Hell. Each statement she refuted bent his willpower like a willow branch. "And you're not expendable. Look, everyone under this roof is mine. They aren't animals either--fuck, Piper. I'm not a damned monster."
She wasn't listening. Wrapped up in her fear and anger and honest-to-God beliefs. He couldn't blame her and the reminder that she'd been at the mercy of his father's men helped him battle the urge to prove her wrong. She wasn't ready, and she needed to get this out of her system. She simply needed to calm. Further and further he weathered it as she worked herself up to a screech, bending until his ferocious hold on that branch of sense nearly bled. It became brittle with a wild strike of her legs.
"Piper." He grabbed her ankle tightly, instinct he regretted as she flailed at him. As she hurt herself. He hadn't been prepared for that. An attack against him, sure. But moving around like that in her current state had to be painful. He'd sworn not to harm her--and now that promise included keeping her from harming herself. Command entered his tone. "Piper. Stop this."
A droplet of soup caught on the pale, 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw when she hurled her dish past his head. He swiped it away with his free hand. Frightening her by forcing her to still wasn't yet on the menu. He wasn't a monster. Wouldn't make her right. The bowl must've hit the end table or the head of the bed; he heard the tinkle of broken shards mixed in with her curses. Her foot connected with his kidney and Connor didn't hide the wince this time. His grip eased and he even considered letting her go, if only to keep her from kicking or hitting something that would scatter more purple and blue smudges across her skin.
Except. Fresh blossoms of scarlet sprouted through her clothes. Instead of relenting for the night as he'd planned, instead of giving her space post-dinner, he could do neither. The taut branch of his willpower snapped.
"I ALREADY HAVE." The words ripped from his throat. Connor grabbed her other foot as she howled at him and kicked out, then he hauled her wriggling body gracelessly across the coverlet. Heedless of fists and feet and knees and elbows and words and teeth, he wrestled her toward the pillows. They could both be matching shades of purple come morning. Would, if straddling her thighs and pinning her legs with his didn't keep her from trying to buck him off.
Let her hate me. She's fucking bleeding. This is for her own good. The resolve twisted in his chest. He didn't want that. He didn't want Piper to look at him with the kind of fire that lit her eyes now.
Leaving her hands free probably wasn't smart but he did it anyway, letting her burn through her energy with as minimal damage to herself as possible. Every inch of him wanted to finish off the position by pinning her wrists over her fiery little head. The desire to push her to that limit burned into his mind like a brand. Not like this. He would not. It's bad enough I have to...He leaned over her, his voice low. "What, you don't care who gets hurt, so long as you go back to your life? You want everyone you care for to die, is that it?"
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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