"Crying isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign of having tried too hard to be strong for too long."

"It's when he smiles that I feel my whole world better."  - Raghad. 

●●●●●●

"Why the hell are you not ready yet?" my father basically growled in my ear.

"I don't know what I'm going to wear," I replied truthfully.

"Then find something," he said, grabbing a fistful of my hair and slamming my body towards the walk-in closet floor harshly.

A striking pain formed at the back of my head, but I made it my best not to show how much he pained me.

"You think what you did would help me?" I asked, with a venomous voice.

"Did I hear you reply?" he asked, walking closer to wear I was sitting and grabbing my hair again, this time with more force, and slapping my face with his other rough hand. "When I say something, Rose, you shut that little mouth of yours' and obey!"

His words were piercing and hurtful and I couldn't take it anymore.

It was enough.

Ignoring the coppery taste of blood that his slap created, and the pounding pain that was spreading in my body, I moved away from him.

"You keep getting what you want in the most wrong ways ever," I started; anger was rising and clear in his stormy eyes. "You can't treat me like this just because you think you're more powerful. I can't take it anymore! I can't stand you hitting and punching everyday and whenever I speak my own ideas! I'm not kind of your slave! I was never, and I will never be!"

And with that, he punched me square in my stomach and I remembered groaning and falling back into the floor, clutching my abdomen like there was no tomorrow, looking into his eyes to find a tiny bit of love he still has for his own daughter...but I didn't find.

It wasn't there.

My vision swirled and his loathe was the last thing I caught before I got...unconscious.

●●●

My eyes opened to the same view...my closet. I rubbed my eyes and stood up, wincing from the bruise forming on my stomach.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I picked a lavender blouse that my mom gave me before she died a year ago.

I guess she knew she'll leave us long before the doctors informed her. The care and love and passion I saw in her eyes were beautiful. She brought me a lot of things that I considered as good-bye-gifts. She used to stop my father from abusing me, but it didn't always work.

He'd hit her too, only she would go blind for a couple of seconds because of her arteries...and he, well he didn't like paying her treatment fees so he'd stop eventually.

Like a great husband he was.

Not.

He knows I suffer the same thing, but he doesn't care. He says that if I die, the world would be a better place to live in.

I used to cry every time he mutters how better he'll be of I died, but now, I don't bother.

I smile because he doesn't mean anything to me.

Nothing more than a person that I live with.

He doesn't pay for me anything.

I pay for my college from the money my mom left, because if the situation was under his hands, he'll be more that willingly, saving the money in his bank account.

Yes, this is how much my father loves me.

Mark my sarcasm.

I changed into the outfit, not looking into my mirror. The fear of seeing the bruise was overruling.

I only wanted to meet Ethen, maybe he'll change everything.

●●●

"What do you mean you'll come with me?" I asked impatiently one of my father's men, freaking Dylan, as we stopped in front of the restaurant.

"Mr. Smith said we need to keep an eye on you," he said firmly.

"You can't come. I'll be sitting with my future husband so need for you to join."

"This is what the boss ordered."

"It's my date, you can't crush yourself in between us, Dylan," I yelled and he rolled his eyes like my talking wasn't going to change anything.

"What if something happens?" another man questioned.

"Nothing will, just let me go," I tried opening the door by myself but it was locked, no surprise there.

They still think I'm seven years old.

Dammit.

"We never met him, and none of us trust him yet."

"I am the one marrying him, and I trust him already. Your trust doesn't mean anything."

"Mr. Smith's ordered us and we can't let you go," he repeated his excuse for the tenth time.

I sighed, "Just let me live one night away from your possession."

"No," they answered in unison, as if expecting my request.

My phone buzzed from beside me and I saw his number beam on the lock screen. I extended my arm to grab it, but Dylan got hold of it first.

Like the superman he is.

Ew.

"Your name," he said, rolling his eyes when he heard the answer.

A smile made its way on my lips as he passed the phone to me, thankfully.

"Hey," I said, happy that he called in the right time.

"Hello," he replied, causing my heart to race because of his deep tone. "Where are you?"

I smiled wider, if that was even possible, this was my chance.

He talked to Dylan and I saw how his face dropped and his smirk was transformed into a frown.

When he frowns, it's good.

Trust me.

Dylan nodded to whatever Ethen said then passed the phone back so I would thank him.

My hero.

●●●

"Ethen, where are you?" I asked anxiously after I followed his directions.

My eyes searched for him, but I couldn't spot someone sitting alone. Maybe he wasn't alone. Maybe he brought someone with him. Is that possible? Should I ask someone to come with me?

No.

I ran my fingers through my hair and tightened my coat around my body, shivering.

"I found you," he said quietly, my heart racing and racing.

For a moment, I thought that my ribcage would burst open, and my heart would bounce out and dance from excitement.

Yes, this is how I basically felt.

I wanted to see him.

I needed to.

"You did?" I asked, and smiled after I heard more of his voice.

"Yes."

I searched for him, and I failed, miserably, might I add.

"But I can't find you—"

"I'm right here."

He stood in front of me with a captivating smile drawn on his perfectly curved lips. His eyes held all the tones of blues I would ever imagine. He looked straight into me and I couldn't breathe properly.

He studied every inch of my face as I blushed crazily. His chocolate brown hair was swept to one side, and a few strands fell on top of his forehead messily.

"Oh," I muttered, lost into the ocean inside his eyes.

I examined his face as his smile grew wider. His structured jaw and his beautifully sculpted face made my brain go all types of wild inside my scalp.

He was beautiful.

His smile.

His face.

His warmth.

His eyes.

His grin.

Him.

Everything about him.

Everything about him was right.

●●●

"Your grandmother died when you were sixteen?" I asked, on the verge of tears. Her grandmother and how he described her reminded me of my mother, a lot.

He nodded, somberness visible on his beautiful face.

"I lost my mom because of a heart stroke," I said, then squeezed his hand...he squeezed mine in return.

"I'm sorry," he said, bending his head over mine that was resting on his shoulder.

"It's fine. I just wish I left before her—"

"Don't say that," he cut me off. "It's faith. You can't regret things you can't control. I know one thing."

"What is it?" I asked, looking straight into his eyes. The lights in the streets were dim, but the spark in his eyes never seemed to fade.

"Dead people feel when we cry over them," he started. "They know when you cry out their names when they break. They know that you can do it. God knows you can do it. God doesn't let you go through anything unless he knows that you will pass it, Rose. You lost your mother, and I also lost people. I think what they need the most is for us to pray with them."

I smiled, "I miss her so much."

"She misses you too," he smiled back, melting my heart.

I wanted to be next to him, forever

Forever.

"Can I ask you for something?" I asked, looking as his eyes turned from the moon and into mine.

"Anything."

Aw. My. Heart. Just. Turned. Into. Liquid.

"Can we take a picture?"

"Now?" he chuckled, and I swear I could feel my breath hitch at how amazing he sounded.

"Yes, so you'll be with me always."

"Okay," he smiled. "Let's find someplace with a brighter light first."

●●●

"Why didn't you let the men go with you?" my father shouted when I came into his view from the entrance.

"Because it's my night," I replied, grinning goofily because I was remembering every detail.

He stood up from the arm chair and walked towards me, his face expressionless as always. He locked me. My back was stuck into the door and he was right in front of me, breathing like a dragon.

"Because it's your night, huh?" he asked, his voice husky and sore.

"Yes."

"Listen to me, Rose," he held my face from my chin and made me look into his face. "I'm doing this to protect myself, you meet him just because I have work to do, after the work finishes, you would leave him and die alone."

Die alone? I smirked to myself.

Trust me, it's the other way around.

"No," I said back, completely unaffected with his voice.

His eyes darkened, and guess what?

He hit me.

Again.

He raised his large hand and punched me straight on my head. His image blurred and tears streamed down my cheeks. I lost my vision and he didn't even bother calming me down.

Oh how much I needed Ethen right now.

I needed him so much.

So much.

"Take her," I heard him call someone from a distance.

I felt someone's hands on my arms then I was led to the stairs and into my room.

"He said sleep," the man said in a soft voice, making me think that he actually had feelings and that he knows that what he saw was completely and utterly wrong.

I doubt though.

No one has feelings in this mansion.

Not after my mother died.

Everything died with her.

I nodded after my vision came back and buried myself under the blankets, soaking the pillows with my tears that never seemed to stop.

What can I say.

A crappy end to a magical night.

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A/N

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All the love in the world,

Raghad.