His Willow

Chapter 3

Willows POV

Mine.

A word that means ownership, possession and property.

In my experience, "Mine." has a lot darker connotations. For example, my mother would pass me around her friends and say "She's my punching bag." or my father would demine me in any form of way to get me hopeless, he would say things, nasty things, saying I was his forever, "You're mine Willow, you will always be mine."

I have always had a hatred for that phrase, but when Alaric said it to me, it felt a lot different, it still felt like ownership, but in a way that made me feel safe, it was something that I couldn't grasp, it was a feeling in my heart that I knew was right.

"Let's go back inside love, we should talk," Alaric said, kissing my forehead and making our way back into the house, never letting go of my body.

I would complain from all the touching and affection that I didn't like and wasn't accustomed too, but those funny sparks lit up my skin every time he touched me, I was ashamed to admit I am pretty much addicted to the feeling and didn't want to let it go just yet.

Making our way through the two-story home, he sat us down on a sizeable beige couch with huge comfy cushions that did wonders to my back. Alaric set me on his lap, not letting go of my waist or any of my body for that matter.

When I eventually gain some small bit of confidence, I will ask about his obsession with touching me; it was all so confusing.

I had never been touched affectionately, it has always been for malicious intent, so I couldn't hold back the shivers or jumpiness I had whenever he laid a hand on me.

I just knew what a hand on me would inflict, it is programmed into me, and I'm sure it always will be.

I don't think I can be fixed, its the sad reality that I have accepted long ago.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions." He starts, scratching the side of his stubble and rubbing circles on my thigh, making me increasingly nervous at the touch.

I nodded, feeling like this is how we might be communicating for a while.

He nodded back, knowing this is going to be a much harder conversation than he had imagined.

"I don't want to go into everything right now, you have only been here a day, but I don't want you to fear me, or be confused at all." He said, looking at me with longing in his eyes and his heart on his sleeve, looking for any reaction out of me.

I found over the years of abuse; you become well trained in knowing how your attacker is feeling, based on their body language and face. It's a good trick I learned the painful way, but its helped me out a lot in the past, knowing when not to bother my mother and father, knowing what answer to give them when they're in one of their moods or highs.

And judging by the look on Alaric's face, he's pleading with me, wanting me to understand him, which I'm able to do to some extent.

But I have a funny feeling that I'm not going to like what comes out this handsome man.

"I was the one what found you in those woods, you fell down that dirt path and banged your head. I know you don't remember much, but there's a detail in that story you need to know," He said, breaking our eye contact and staring at the floor, thinking his next words carefully.

I sat up straight and looked down to our laps, ready to take in everything he tells me, as I know if I look him in the eyes, my emotions will get the better of me.

Suddenly one of his large hands threaded through my hair and his thumb rubbed my rosy cheek, his eyes never leaving my face and he seemed to be studying me as I did to him.