He then took my panties from my clutches, lifted my swollen foot to place it through the leg hole, then did the same with the other side and pulled my panties slowly up my shins as my breath hitched at his tenderness.
Once he got to my bent knees, he stood up to lift me to my feet as I held on to his shoulders and pulled my panties up my thighs and over my butt, stabbing me with that dark gaze. The same gaze of the man in the library watching me being railed by Ezrah.
His fingers tucked into my towel and pulled it off me as I covered my breasts with my arms in fear. Keeping his eyes on my face, he took my bra from my hands and placed my arms through each strap and then turned me around to fasten the hooks.
He then continued to dress me, slowly and tenderly, guiding my arms into my sweater and my legs into my jeans. Then, when I was fully dressed, he lifted me in his arms and carried me back out to the basement, where he laid me back down on the mattress.
No word was spoken as he dressed his doll. No word was spoken as he climbed the stairs and shut the door behind him. Leaving me reeling, confused as if he had reached his hand into my chest and stolen my heart.
This tenderness did not fit the man—the same man who hunted me down in the forest at night, and locked me in the basement after finding me snooping at his house.
After he was gone, I was left with silence that twisted around my neck like strangling vines. Nothingness. Every creak of the walls seemed louder than normal, reverberating my emptiness. It’s odd how a tiny moment of kindness can turn one’s perception of the world around you.
