Robin des Bois ✓

thirty-five. Endings

Gabriel took me home to his loft. He texted Nirvana, Tina and Tyler to let them know that I was with him, and Nirvana replied within five seconds, pleading with him to let her call me and speak to me at the very least through the phone.

At my request, Gabriel only texted back that I needed rest and that I would reach out to her as soon as I could.

I fell asleep on the ride home and I only woke when Gabe picked me up from the passenger seat, bridal style. He held me close to his chest all the way up to his apartment and set me down on his bed. I curled up on top of his duvet, exhausted.

He sat down next to me, his hand smoothing my curls away from my face.

"Are you hurt?" Gabe asked me softly, his fingertips tracing the contours of my face delicately.

"I only have a cut on my scalp." I reached up to seek it out and winced a bit when my fingers found it. Gabe pried my hand away, and turned my head to appraise the injury.

"I'll get you all fixed up." His voice was like a soothing balm all on its own and I pressed my cheek into the palm of his hand, longing filling my body to the very brim.

He rose to leave, but my hand shot out of its own accord, grasping the hem of his shirt. "Don't go. Please."

He took my hand in his, his fingers stroking mine. "I'll be less than a minute. I promise."

He kept his promise, he was back almost instantly, a first-aid kit in hand.

He sat down next to me again and I put my face in his lap to give him access to the back of my head. He parted my hair with infinite gentleness and went to work. I barely felt anything and asked him to describe what he was doing –he used skin glue, which I didn't even know was a thing.

I wondered how many times he'd done this, patched himself or someone else up, to get to this level of ease. He worked quickly, his hands steady and efficient and once he was done, he packed up his first aid kit and set it next to the bed. I laid with my head in his lap longer, my cheek pressed into the firm muscle of his thigh, his hands running over my curls gently.

I would have fallen asleep like this if he didn't speak up at that moment.

"Tell me what happened. What did he do to you?" His voice was strained, wary.

I turned my face to look up at him. He traced the contour of my jaw, his fingers barely even touching my skin. I breathed in, long and deep, and the exhale came out shaky. I closed my eyes before I began speaking.

He listened, not interrupting once, his fingers tracing my lips, my cheekbones, my jaw as I spoke.

Once I was done, Gabe's only noticeable reaction was the clenched fist I could see resting next to his thigh, knuckles pale.

"I thought you wouldn't come," I whispered after a few beats of silence.

"I'd go to hell and back for you." I pushed myself up into a sitting position, my eyes searching his face. His eyes were ablaze with an intensity that almost made my head spin.

"You'll never have to save me again."

"I didn't save you this time." He leaned in close and kissed my forehead, his hands framing my face. "You saved yourself."

I tilted my head back so that our mouths were level and pressed my lips to his, kissing him with all the urgency and desperation I'd felt while imprisoned in that small white room.

I kissed him to forget and to wipe myself clean of Dominic's vile touch, to rebrand my skin with the right hands.

He pulled away first.