The flat was black when you entered it, causing you some difficulty in maneuvering about without colliding into or tripping over anything, and soon finding me asleep on the couch with a pint of unfinished Phish Food nearby. Crumpled bags of crisps and cartons of Chinese take-away, littered the floor around it; but you paid no attention to them.

You did not attempt to wake me, since you love the sight of me at my most vulnerable state, when all innocence in me was apparent for all to see, and scurried quietly to the kitchen after placing a tender kiss to my hair.

There, you found nothing out of the ordinary after turning on the light, given that I have a tendency of leaving the orange juice out on the counter, and that was nothing new to you. With a knowing smile, even grinning at my routine laziness, you poured yourself a glass before you closed the carton, placed it back in the refrigerator, and shuffling back to the living room with your glass in hand. (Any girl who would put up with this kind of laziness though, for six years, without complain; she better be treated like royalty. How am I doing, by the way?)

Upon returning, you placed the beverage on the coffee counter before silently insisting that it was your responsibility on cleaning up my mess; which meant finishing off my Phish food, and brushing my crisp bags so you can have a seat on the floor. (You owe me a new pint, by the way. I wanted to finish that.)

Once finished with the pint, though you pondered on why I had balls of paper crumpled up and scattered about, you placed a blanket over my slumbering self, and sat on the floor beside my makeshift bed; and watched happily, as my chest rose and fell at a uniform pace. However, your subtle happiness had melted away after you noticed my manuscript on the floor. Nonchalantly, at first, you skimmed through my latest work, and then perusing a paragraph that was deathly close to breaking your heart.

“Mr. Avery stormed out of the stagnant apartment, merciless and callously, as an infantile Rebecca, begged desperately and naively for him, her father, not to leave her through wavering, never-endings tears. The thunderous slam of the front door, however, interrupted her mousy plea and left the frightened young child abandoned as her lifeless mother’s body laid bloody, close by.”
I woke to soft snivels, to the sight of slight rivers of tears streaming down your face, as you sat unaware of my awaking. Throwing off the blanket you had placed on me, I wrapped my arms around you, resting my chin on your shoulder; pacifying you until you had settled down.

“So this is how your mum died and why your father was never around. Why you ended up an orphan at a young age. Your father had murdered her right in front of you and then left you to fend for yourself,” you hoarsely whimpered.

“What, on earth, made you think of such an idea?” I asked, filled with much worry and bewilderment.

As I held you even closer to me, “No such thing had happened in my past, love. I promise you that. So tell me what made you think of such a thing,” I whispered to you.

You sat quiet for a moment, allowing me enough time to think of what had possibly made you so flustered. I, however, could not come up with anything. Of all the things that came to mind, not one of them made sense. I was unaware, however, that you had my manuscript in your lap, and that was how you came up with the notion.

“From reading your manuscript?” your voice wavered. You handed me the book before continuing with cleaning up my mess.

“Her older brother just stood there, glaring at the door, his body vibrating with a fiery rage, as blood poured from his nose.

“‘We didn’t need you anyway,’ Gabriel spat, wiping away as much blood as he could with a damp dish towel. ‘You’re nothing but bloody coward!’

“Rebecca ran to her older brother and clung tightly to his leg, creating a wet spot on his leg as she cried even more. Dark bruises were scattered up and down her body.

“‘Mummy’s dead, isn’t she?’ her voice quivered. The four-year-old girl’s eyes shown bright as she looked up at Gabriel, but all the fifteen year old could do was pick his little sister up, hold her close, and tell her the truth.

"‘Yeah, Becca. She’s gone,’ he sighed. ‘But you still have me, your big brother. I promise.’”

I sat there on the couch, rubbing my eyes, and a pain washed over me afterwards, as I watched you stoop to your most vulnerable.

I watched, as you turned from the happy, confident, headstrong young woman I fell in love with; to the frightened, lost, reserved little girl you had come a long way from being. I could also see a misled Daddy’s Girl praying deep inside herself, hoping that the life she was living now was not a dream. No more mind tricks, no more lies, no more acts of deception.

“I’m sorry that my writing has upset you. But they’re only empty words on a page, Syeira,” I said, getting down on the floor with you and helping you clean up my mess. “Nothing but a story. I promise.”

“But why must it be so violent and depressing?”

You still could not look up at me, but I could see the innocence radiate off you in mass abundance, and sense an aura fear mingling with it.

I pulled the wastebasket closer to us before resting my head against yours. “Because those who fall the hardest, they rise above tragedy the highest,” I grinned, brushing my lips on your forehead. “And I believe, end up the strongest of people.”

You pulled away from me, wrapping arms around yourself as you got up from the floor. I finished cleaning up my mess as you walked away with an abandoned look in your eyes. And as you round the corner towards the kitchen, out of view from me, you rested your back against the wall; sliding down as a silent tempest of tears rolled down your face.

After taking the path you took towards the kitchen, I hunched myself down in front of you before taking a seat next you against the wall, wrapped my arms around you, and sat there with you until all was calm again, rocking you back and forth.

You then buried your head against my chest, and I did my best to dry whatever tears were still streaming down your face with my sleeve. There we were, though, on our kitchen floor, sitting in the dim light, as a peaceful silence surrounded us.

“I was abused as a child,” you tiredly muttered, breaking the silence finally. “But I didn’t want to tell you, just in case.”

“In case of what, Syeira?” I whispered back, brushing a piece of hair from your face.

“In case you were the type to leave.” Tears filled your eyes once more, and all I could do was sit there and hold you close until you had calmed again.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you, Cass? Now that you know.”

“Just let it out, Princess. I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.”

You hugged me tighter after I said that, and my hold on you grew tighter as well. “I love you, Cassiel,” your voice trembled as you gasped a sigh of relief. I kissed the top of your head with a smile, pulling your legs across my lap.

Closing your eyes, a rush of serenity washed over you and a calm had filled the air once more. You slowly, then, started to fall asleep in my arms, your chest rising and falling at a steady pace.

Careful not to wake you, I lifted you up and carried you to our room. I set you down gently, on the bed, before removing your shoes and throwing the comforter over you.

"I love you, too, Syeira,” I whispered to you, as I kissed you once more.

A tremendous weight had lifted off you that night, the chains of imprisonment broken.  My princess was not only finally free, but, for the first time in her life, she was at peace with the world around her. All because, I promised you I would not leave.

I left the room briefly, though, to grab my book from the living room, as well as to double check that you had locked the front door behind you, shut and lock any windows I had left open, and turn off any lights left on. I didn’t want to be out of our room too long, in case, and in fear, that you would wake, find that I’m not there, and think I had betrayed you and left. Therefore, I wanted to do everything, as quickly as I could, before returning to you, picking up my book last.

I had just finish closing the windows, however, and about to make my way to the kitchen to turn off the light, when I turned around, and found you standing there in the doorway leading to the hall.

“I was just seeing if you were still here, Cass,” you muttered naively, pulling at the blanket you had thrown around your shoulders.

“That’s okay, Princess. I was just locking up the house, and turning off the lights, before I returned to our room.” A sleepy smile spread across your beautiful face. “Now go back to bed. You’ve had quite the night. I’ll follow behind.”

You remained in the doorway, waiting for me, with nervous look in your eyes.

“Do you promise?”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world, than where you are, Syeira.” I smiled to you. “May God strike me down and give me to Lucifer if I choose elsewhere,” I said; bring a hand to my heart.

I took you in my arms, holding you by the waist, hoping it would help calm you of your insecurities. You gave a silent laugh before crinkling your nose at me, for making a tease at your Catholic faith.

“No boy named after an angel should be making jokes like that, Cassiel Xavier.”

“I know, but it brought a smile to your face, and that’s what I wanted to see.”

Breaking away from my grasp, you took me by the hand and playfully pulled me along with you back to our room. After switching out of your clothes into a pair of pj’s, and returning to bed, it took a few moments; but your eyes fluttered closed once more as you laid in my arms.

This is the moment I cherish the most. I could have walked away, yes, but I stayed instead; because you were, then, and still are, the world to me.

And I wouldn’t change anything.