I am done with love

Help me make it through the night

She had taken off the handle of the living room door, so he wouldn't be able to get inside and continue his psychological abuse. Now he was standing on the other side of the door and was threatening her, with cutting the wire, so she would be out of power, of cutting of the internet, of doing something to their child, of killing himself, of calling the police on her, to tell them a couple of lies, so they would take her child away from her.

He did that every time, she didn't do anything just the way he wanted it to be.

After all she was the one with a job, the one with a driver's licence, the one who did the grocery shopping and the cleaning, yet he still demanded more from her every day.

At some point, she had refused to continue to clean the house, trying to make him understand, that it was his task, as the one who was at home.

She locked herself up a lot lately. And each time he stood before the door and was whining and lamenting, threatening, to tell their daughter, that her mother was doing something to herself.

And she really did. The only thing, that made him stop, almost as quickly as it made the pain inside her stop, was cutting herself. With one blade of a pair of scissors. She already had a couple of scars left over, but she didn't care. Those cuts were the only things that kept her mind intact, when he once again tried to destroy her.

Nathalie jolted up from her dream, her eyes wide open, scanning her surroundings. That was the dream, that would always keep haunting her. How her father had made her mother's and her life a living hell. How he had each day tried to feel better by making them feel worse, instead of trying to change something about his own life and get his ass up from the online games and videos he was wasting his time with.

When her mum had eventually had enough and had brought her to his father's sister, to eventually end her own agony and not only cut her skin, but her arteries this time, Nathalie had started to lock up all her feelings and her emotions inside of her. Only when she was singing, she could let them out. When she was singing she thought about her mum and how very much she had loved her and what her own father had taken from her.

Now she couldn't make out her surroundings at first. Everything was different to what she was used to. It was clean, it didn't smell of old beer and booze and vomit and it wasn't dusty or filled with a lot of different things, that would be used in a pub.

Then she remembered. She was with that nice stranger, who had turned out to be the famous fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, in his hotel room. What she didn't know was, why she was in his bed, wearing obviously his clothes and why he was sitting on the mattress right beside her, looking concerned.

Nathalie wanted to instantly jump to her feet but he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back into the cushions.

"Relax", he said calmly. "Nobody is going to hurt you here, my dear. Let me help you sit up slowly, before you pass out again, and have some food. Here."

Gabriel handed her a plate with all sorts of fruits and vegetables, as well as slices of bread with all kinds of cheese and other toppings. Though she was still not convinced, that he wouldn't take advantage of her, she reluctantly began to eat, to soon gobble the food down as fast as she could, as if she was afraid to not get enough of it before he would take it away.

When she choked because of that, the man took the plate from her lap and placed it on the nightstand, to pat her back until she stopped coughing. Then he handed her a small bottle with water.

"Here, drink.", he ordered her with a worried smile. "Then you should eat a little slower, there's enough food there. And if not, it's already morning and we can order from the room service very soon."

She still hadn't spoken a word since she woke up.

"Where are my clothes and why am I not wearing them? What did you do?", she questioned suspiciously, "I swear to you, if you did..."

"I did nothing to you, I can promise you that, my dear. I just took the wet clothes off of you. You could have told me by the way. Why were they wet?"

"Didn't have the time to dry them, after washing them in the sink", she murmured between to bites.

"Aha, well, I changed the wet clothes with dry ones and I hung them up in the bathroom, so they can get dry. And before you worry, I didn't touch your underwear, I even tried to look away as much as possible, while I tried to get you dressed again."

Nathalie stared at him for a while.

"Thank you", she hissed.

"You're welcome", he said with a warm smile. "Are you feeling a little better now?", the designer then questioned as he subconsciously placed his hand on hers.

The singer nodded slowly, blushing deeply when she felt his thumb caressing the back of her hand.

"That's good. I'll go and run you a nice, hot bath. If you would like that, of course!"

She nodded.

"That would be great", Nathalie hummed.

Twenty minutes later, he helped her into the bathroom, showed her, where she would find the towels and handed her his own bathrobe. To her questioning look he replied:

"I have already worn the one from the hotel, but my own is still unused. I can't do much about the underwear though, but just in case, there's a pair of my boxers to wear underneath those sweatpants. Maybe you'll feel better with them, I don't know, I just..."

The young woman had approached him and placed a soft peck on his cheek.

"Thanks again, you have no idea, what that means to me!"

He cupped her cheeks shortly as he nodded, then turned around and left her on her own. He sat down on the sofa and put his feet on the armrest. He didn't mind, that he was too tall for this one, he just wanted the young woman to have a good night's sleep without being afraid to get attacked while she slept.

About an hour later, Nathalie came back into the room, wearing only his T-Shirt and his boxers, her hair only in a loose tail and hanging over her shoulder. She had her arms crossed in front of her and held her glasses in one hand. Gabriel took a sharp breath. When he was changing her clothes, he really had tried to not look at her. But as she stood right in front of him now, those beautiful long legs wearing only his very own undergarments and his white T-Shirt, visible without a bra underneath, as he could see a little through the fabric, he couldn't help but stare.

"Wouldn't it be better, if I stayed on that sofa? I'm way shorter and it would still be an upgrade to that dirty old mattress in the bar", she suggested when he jumped to his feet.

But Gabriel smiled at her lovingly and objected:

"I promised you to sleep in a bed and that you will be able to feel safe, so please, stop being modest and just take what you deserve"

He stood right next to her now, awkwardly staring at the wall behind her, when she suggested:

"We could as well share that bed. It's huge anyway and I promise to keep my fingers to myself and stay on my end of the mattress!", she snickered. "So you don't need to be afraid, I could ruin your name"

Gabriel looked at her open mouthed. Nathalie shifted sheepishly from one leg to the other.

"It's just....you had me in front of you.....unconscious.....and you didn't do anything....so I.....somehow......feel save with you.....and maybe I won't dream when you're closer...I....it doesn't matter.....just...I don't know. Maybe at least as long as I tell you my story....if you're still interested...just to help me make it through the night. What was it, that my voice did? What you thought wasn't even possible anymore?"

He cupped both her cheeks now.

"It touched my heart. Since Emilie died, nothing else has. Just go to bed, please. I'll go get ready for the night and then I promise to stay next to you, until you're asleep, would that work?"

Nathalie nodded.