💕Your worth loving💕 A twisted paradize. Amiyah scott and Chris Brown story Bxb

My Broken Parts

Gigi Pov

The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the TV. Elijah was kicked back on my bed like he lived here, shirt off, basketball shorts hangin’ low on his waist. He smelled like warm cologne and body heat, and every time he moved, my whole body tightened like a reflex.

But I tried to stay cool. Chill. Normal. Like I wasn’t tryna fight the storm bubbling up inside me.

Then he hit me with it. Outta nowhere.

“What type of men you like, Bambi?”

I blinked and looked at him. “Huh?”

He turned his head toward me, the softest smirk on his lips. “You heard me.”

That name—Bambi—melted my chest every time he said it. It made me feel small in a way that didn’t scare me, but… right now? It caught me off guard.

I swallowed. “I like dudes who real. Not just street real, but heart real. Somebody who sees me and don’t flinch. Who don’t treat me like I’m broken or a phase. Somebody who don’t run.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“So do I got a shot?”

I froze. “What?”

“I’m sayin’…” He sat up more. “I been feelin’ you, Gigi. For a minute now. You think I don’t peep how you be lookin’ at me? I ain’t here to play. I just wanna know… can I be yours?”

My chest squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe. “Elijah…”

Before I could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

And for a second… it was warm. Soft. Familiar.

But then—my body went cold.

Suddenly I wasn’t in my room no more. I was back in that place. That day. That night. Where hands weren’t gentle. Where my voice didn’t matter. Where I bled and nobody cared.

I gasped, jerking back so fast I hit the headboard. “Don’t—please—don’t touch me,” I whispered, my body trembling.

Elijah’s face dropped in instant concern. “Gigi? Yo… I’m sorry. I ain’t mean—”

“I’m sorry!” I cut him off, hands covering my face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out—I just—I can’t… I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I—I was raped as a child and sometimes it come back like this. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

He didn’t move fast. Didn’t get loud or awkward. He stayed sitting right there, calm and present, like a safe place.

“Aye,” he said, voice low and even. “Look at me, Bambi.”

I slowly lifted my eyes. His gaze was steady. No judgment. Just care.

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. You hear me? You didn’t ruin nothin’.”

I sniffled, ashamed. “You probably think I’m a mess now.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I think you survived some fucked up shit and you still got the heart to let somebody close. That’s strength, not weakness.”

He reached his hand out—slow, open—then placed it on my knee.

“I still want you, Gigi. All of you. Not just the parts that smile and flirt. I want the messy parts too. The scared parts. The parts that think they don’t deserve love.”

My lip trembled.

“I’m not askin’ you to be ready today. Or tomorrow. I’ll wait. I’ll show up. I’ll stay soft. I’ll be whatever you need me to be… for as long as you need.”

I couldn’t speak. Just nodded, wiping my face as tears slid down.

He moved closer, not to kiss—but to hold. He wrapped me up in his arms and held me like I was made of something fragile and holy all at once. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat—steady, safe.

And in that moment, I believed him.