I have always been afraid of people. Despite my harsh exterior I know how much human interaction hurts. When he came to me treating me like a stray puppy with such tenderness I opened up just enough to fall in love.

I had already been used and broken when he found me, but he didn't care. He was gently guiding me into seeing kindness and helping me out of the darkness that held my life since I could remember. I was just a dog, and he fed me, bathed me, and gave me a place to sleep until I remembered I was a human being like the rest of society.

When I could call myself a living human he asked me on a date, and I accepted pretending I wasn't happy. I frowned the entire night down to when he dropped me back at my crappy apartment and he headed home to his parents.

The next time I saw him he treated me like usual and didn't bring up going on a second date until he caught me staring at him a few weeks later. He didn't make a move on me, which was good because I was probably too fragile still to not break. He continued taking me out on random dates to figure out what I liked, even though I scarcely ever spoke.

Eventually after five months and who knows how many dates he kissed me after my stare lasted just a bit to long. Our first kiss was nothing more than a peck; countless more of just those passed and he went further. A French kiss in the alley as no one was watching us was strangely perfect because it was him. I never said anything but he seemed to know I liked him too. He wouldn't make a move until he got from my silence I wouldn't crumble if he did touch me.

Finally after months of quiet dates, and secret make-out sessions, his birthday rolled through and I wanted to do something for him. He came over and ate the meager meal I had managed to produce as I ate nothing because it would get in the way of my real gift.

My clothes came off easily enough and his clothes soon fell off shortly after. I was able to get him in my mouth before memories started attacking me and I had to force myself to keep going for him. He noticed I wasn't enjoying it as much as him and I was soon on my back with my legs spread and one of his lube fingers poking at my entrance. When it slipped in I bit my lip hopping I could just get through this, but as the second slipped in I freaked out and started clawing at the sheets trying to escape the scary men even though I should have known he was nothing like them. He stopped for the night there after scooping me up and saying it was alright. He was too kind to realize I had even failed.

A month later, not bringing up my failure on his birthday, he came over to watch a movie and I was again ready to give him his present. He didn't expect our clothes to be off by the second half of the movie and our lips passionately pressed together. He managed to carry me into the bedroom before I realized where this was really going to go. The only time his lips weren't on mine was when he was grabbing the lubricant from last time because as he said, 'You are too beautiful to get hurt.'

He kept me distracted enough to get three fingers stretching me, and the images of those scary men from those scary memories didn't haunt me, not even as he slide in and I had to tell myself to relax. He went slow, acknowledging I was a human with feelings who could in fact feel pain because I wasn't some lifeless toy. He waited long enough for me to open my eyes and stare at his kind orange ones, and for me to back myself off him and then back on.

He went fast enough to get himself taking moaning grasps and to actually get me holding on to him because there was apparently pleasure for me in this act. For the first time I moaned because something in me was hit that felt so amazing I lost sense of control for a moment. He even acknowledged my pleasure and began hitting that spot nearly every entry, making me cry out so loud and feel so hopeless under his pleasure, because this was no longer something painful or scary.

I swear I had tears of joy streaming from my eyes as I called out his name louder than I had ever been before, because it felt too good to not cum. He came soon after saying my name in a final moan as my orgasm ended. I for the first time felt empty as he slipped out instead of broken and used.

He whispered, "I love you and I hope I wasn't too scary for you," as he wrapped his arms around me and petted my hair. I was left silently crying in his bare chest because I had met someone who was actually nice and cared about something as worthless as me.

I didn't tell him I loved him too, even if I knew I was already madly in love with him. He stayed with me that night just to make sure my silence for the night meant I was indeed pleased and not scared. My nightmares were chased away by his warm grasp, but my dreams were still met with darkness.

I woke up at the crack of dawn in a panic to find him not there and feared I had just dreamed that sex could actually be a pleasant feeling. I was about to rush out of my room when he came in carrying our breakfast with a smile; telling me that my dream was true, that someone could care about me.

We ate in breakfast in silence. like most our meals. He seemed to gather that I was more than pleased by his performance the night before and even dared to feed me, which I always have found strangely comforting despite me acting grumpy about it.

Sadly his weekend was over and he was soon dressed to go home before his school started. I dared to go on my tippy toes and kiss him before he left, even though I hadn't put on clothes. It was open-mouthed and caring because we both cared enough about each other to not only have sexual actions.

He smiled, kissed my forehead and pulled me into a tender hug. "I won't ever be mad if you act on your own like that." He stated gently because he somehow knew I was afraid of enraging him if I did do what I wanted. "I still love you, and wont stop just because you decided to touch me."

He said before he was wisped away by the wind, off to school and I was stuck there with an 'I love you' stuck in my throat.

I was able to walk normally after sex with him, yet another first and I went to work feeling like I could in fact take on the world's horrors. We saw each other at Homra, and no one else noticed the change between us besides us. We didn't talk about my openness now, but it wasn't like I had said anything since he just somehow knew.

Our secret make-out sessions and silent dates still continued passed Tosuka's death. Our sex became better and more frequent as I opened up and let him begin to do whatever to me. I have probably said 'I love you' after most of those events, but tonight I plan for my birthday to tell him I do before the clothes are off and the doors are closed.

Author's Note: Well this was the first time my story just sort of wrote itself. I mean that's happened before but this one just wouldn't shut up!

Anyway, thank you for reading and if say 15 people review in my secret given time I'll make this a two shot. (I'll make it longer the more who do too, because I am annoying like that)