"Break off your legs."
Demand. It was a demand. She trembled visibly, clutching her dress to her being. She shook her head. Her legs, long, pale, stuck out in frilled white socks. Too childish, and too cute, Vash grinned lewdly. He reached over and touched her shoulder, smearing blood down her dress. She scrunched her nose and the foul nose. He noticed. She tried to apologize but her cheek turned bright red. The smack still stung. She reached up to touch it but Vash already had grabbed her thin, bony wrist. He threw her on the floor. Lili writhed. She always did.
"Bitch, break off your legs, or else I will. Let me hurt you."
Vash stopped. She was crying pathetically. Blood not hers was staining her dress and cheeks and her nose leaked. Her yellow hair stuck to her tears.
"I love you," he whispered and picked her up, kissing her neck and ears. She squirmed and he hit her again.
"I love you so much," he whispered again, pinching her through her dress. She tried to kick him. He grabbed her legs and spread them apart and
and it happened more and more and more. Each night each day. She waited for him to come home and open the doors. She waited. She waited in pain, bleeding hurting, hurting so much. Finally when she sensed she was with child and told him he hit her on the belly. It happened again in a month. He didn't believe her. She took a test. A little plus appeared. He smacked her across the face and went out the door. He went to grab a belt or something. She grabbed the little bag she prepared during the day and put it on her shoulder. She crept through the window, jumping out one story. She landed hard and tumbled. He heard. She ran. A gun was loaded, the barrel aimed through the window. But she was already gone. She hightailed it.
Her story began.
I do not own Hetalia