"No, please stop. Please look at me."
He let out a breath. "Let me go."
"No."
"Giselle!"
She kept pulling.
"Giselle, let me go!" He didn't recognize his own voice.
She whimpered, "No, please look at me. I'm scared."
He froze at her declaration, so she ran in front of him and looked up into his eyes. He stared down at her swollen lids, wondering how he was able to even breathe when all he could think of was violence.
"Chris." She placed her hands on the back of his head, forcing his face down till their foreheads met.
"Please, Giselle." His voice sounded pained.
She shook her head.
He begged, breathing hard, "Please, let me go."
But she undid him with, "Please don't leave me alone right now."
With a low growl of frustration, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. She held him to her body, and his face nestled in the crook of her neck as he pulled her up into him. His rage leaked out of his eyes onto her skin, and he held on to her for dear life.
He didn't know how long she'd hugged him, but she finally broke the embrace and looked him in the eyes. "Chris?"
He shook his head, looking at her. "N-not okay."
She nodded. "I'm sorry."
He bulged his eyes, his nose flaring.
"Okay, I'm not sorry," she said, a small smile stretching her lips that he knew was forced, that was easing his mind, and that he wanted to kiss.
He sighed, staring at her, his head bursting with pain.
"I wanna sleep," she said.
"Can't s-s-sing."
She stared at him, shaking her head slightly. "Lie with me."
His heart broke.
He grabbed her by the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, lips almost touching hers. "D-don't d-do this to m-me." He couldn't take any more heartbreak. This was his peak. He knew it would take only one push for him to fall off the edge.
"Please," she whispered, shutting her eyes, and inched closer. "Please. Just tonight." Her lips brushed against his in a feather-light touch.
How could he ever deny her anything? How could he deny this to himself?
He let her lead him into his bedroom. He sat on the bed and gave his head on his knees, trying to calm himself while Giselle opened his closet and searched for something, then headed to his bathroom.
He couldn't form a proper thought in his brain. Everything was jumbled. When he tried making sense of the situation, all he encountered was blurring fog. Confusion, anger, and agony made a clutter inside his head. Everywhere he tried to see in his mind, there was a mess.
He didn't know how long he stayed in that state. But when he looked up after hearing Giselle's wet footsteps in his room, his heart stopped for a moment, and then he exhaled a long, shaky breath. Absolutely nothing in this world could have readied him for the view he saw.