𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔣𝔦𝔳𝔢***

     Feyre was watching me carefully as we got ready for bed that night. I was sitting at our vanity and brushing my long hair out.

"Stop staring at me," I said to her. She glanced away quickly, her cheeks turning red.

"Sorry," she uttered. "I was just wondering how you felt about the dinner. And . . . everyone."

    I turned in my chair to face her, thinking it over.

"They were loud and impertinent," I recalled. "But I don't know. They were also kind. And they made me feel comfortable."

"I've never seen you open up like that to anyone else," Feyre observed. It was true that she was the only one I'd opened up to as of recently. And I still hadn't told her everything.

"It wasn't easy," I admitted, my cheeks heating. Had I overshared with them?

"Well, I'm proud of you," she said with a smile.

"You are?"

"Always," she replied.

       I smiled sheepishly, getting into our bed. No one had ever told me they were proud of me before. I curled up at her side, nuzzling close to her as she held me.

"I'm sorry that I overlooked the way Tamlin was treating you," she whispered. I tensed at the mention of my brother.

"It's okay, Fey," I answered. "It wasn't your responsibility.

✯¸.'*¨'*✿ ✿*'¨*'.¸✯

**************

I was little for a 10 year old, but the cabinet was still too small for me to move an inch. My head was spinning from breathing in the same air for ... I didn't know how long it'd been now.

Father had beaten me and shoved me into the cabinet, locking it. I had been crying for what felt like hours, now.

I weakly banged my hand against the door, as much as the limited space allowed me to.

  I heard the lock jiggle, and I perked up. The door opened, and I gasped at the cold air, scrambling out of the cabinet.

I didn't even see who let me out before I jumped into their arms, shaking with sobs.

"You're okay," Tamlin said, though he seemed taken aback. He hesitated before carefully wrapping his arms around me.

Tamlin and I weren't close. He was 10 years older than me, and was never home. I'd rarely even had a conversation with him. But I liked him better than my other brothers. At least he never hit me.

But I was so desperate for comfort, I buried my face in his shoulder as I cried and let him hold me.

Usually, I went to my mother for comfort. But not when it was my father who hurt me.

Our mother worshipped our father, and he treated her like a queen. She loved him greatly, and refused to accept the fact that he abused all of her children. Despite the fact that she witnessed it several times.

The last time I'd run to her after a beating and told her what happened, she'd just scolded me for speaking of her mate so poorly.

"Do you need me to take you to Mother, mousy?" Tamlin asked me as I pulled back. He'd called me that for as long as I could remember.

"No," I declined, sniffling. "She'll just tell me Father's a good male and he had a reason for what he did."

"It's easy for her to say that when he's never laid a hand on her, isn't it?" he asked me. I nodded, feeling my lower lip tremble.