Seto's POV

She's so beautiful. I could anyone not love her. I've loved her since I first saw her on the streets, begging for food. I laid the softest kiss on her forehead and closed my eyes, going through my memories of her.

The first thing I noticed about her was her hair and the light in her eyes. Her hair was black, unlike everyone's multicolored hair. It reminded me of the night. However, it had strands of brown hair, probably from the dirt, I thought. But I couldn't be more wrong. Somehow, when she was getting abused my random people that just wanted to feel more powerful, some strands grew back brown and she never understood it.

She was fierce and it showed. She would ask for food or even a few coins, but when a man walked up right into her face, she kicked him where the sun didn't shine and he left angrily. Even, when she was begging from strangers, she could still stand up for herself. She intrigued me. Eventually, she gave up begging for food, and just sat there on the same sidewalk. I was curious so, naturally, I wanted to investigate.

Every time I went to work, I would tell Roland to drive me the long way to look at her for mere seconds. I wanted to look at her more. I told myself that she was just some one that was intriguing and soon I would grow tried of her. It never happened. I even told Roland that I would start walking back from school, just to pass by her, hoping we would somehow make eye contact.

However, the day she came home with me, was the happiest and scariest day of my life.

I was walking to school like every day, and she wasn't there. I was disappointed, but that emotion just turned to curiosity. Where was she? Did she leave?

I refused to believe that she had… past away, because I was growing quite fond of her determination.

That was until I heard the most horrifying scream since my days with Gozaburo.

I don't know happened after I found some punks surrounding her. A middle age man with blonde hair was holding her back by her arms while she was thrashing and struggling to get away. She was completely naked with her long black hair tangled up more than usual. Another man, with black hair, was unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down while fondling with her left breast.

I felt white-hot anger come down me in waves and clenched my hands into their palms, almost drawing blood.

I sprinted toward them and ripped the black haired douche off of her and punched him straight in the face. Then, I slammed the blonde haired dick into the wall, making him drop the girl I've been obsessing for weeks. She had given up in the fight and that crushed me. I was drawn into the determination and no shit look in her beautiful brown eyes, but seeing her so broken and fragile was heartbreaking.

I turned to the two guys and took them down easily thanks to the training of martial arts and forms of self-defense.

I went back to the beauty and she stared at me with tear-filled eyes and a trembling stance. I picked her up easily (I frowned at this), but while she struggled, she soon gave up. That cut my black heart to its core. I wished she 'd fought tooth and nail to get away form me. That would've of shown that it wasn't as serious as I feared. But it was.

I gave her my coat of my school uniform and ran back to the mansion. She had been unconscious since I picked her up, so I covered her body with my coat, hoping to give at least some warmth.

If I had taken her to a hospital, it would've resulted in death treats to the staff and waiting for long hours at a time. I knew if I took her to my home, she would receive the best medical treatment in the city. My doctors are the best, much better than those amateurs at the hospital.

What felt like hours, but in reality would've been minutes, I burst through the front door of my mansion. She was soon taken away from my arms. I made sure that she was only in the care of female doctors, because the last thing I need is for her to freak out over what almost happened to her. I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.

After almost 3 days, she woke up. She was in my bedroom because she deserved everything in the world. My room had the biggest bed and the softest sheets. It had it's own bathroom and walk-in closet with tons of space.

She was hooked to an IV and her blood was being tested for diseases she might've caught. I stayed by her side for hours, neglecting school and even my company. Mokuba didn't know the girl, but he knew that she was important to me, so he gave me space, but sometimes would come upstairs to sit by me.

Mokuba was the best little brother, he didn't bomb me with questions until she was almost back to full strength. Even then, he took my one-word answers and vague explanations.

At first, she was terrified of men, except for me, it seemed. She would only let me touch her, for some reason. I thought maybe it was because I saved her, but I never knew. When I ask her about it now, she just replies that she felt safe in my arms and only mine. Eventually, she got better and we understood each other more. She told me that she didn't was never given a name, but she heard the name, Karen, and she loved it. That was the only happiness that she remembered.

I grew to care for her and she came to love the monster inside me. I told her about the abuse of Gozaburo and his training sessions. I told her things about myself that Mokuba probably didn't even know. Something told me to trust her, so I did. I still think that I'll wake up and she wouldn't be there anymore, just a note saying that she never loved me. Every night, I clutch her to my chest, hoping that she won't leave me and if she did one day, I wanted to cherish all the time that was granted to me. I didn't deserve her. I never did and I still question how she could ever love me. But she did.

As I was thinking about all the events that unfolded in the past 2 years, I hadn't realized that I was crushing her body to my chest in a tight embrace. I didn't realize that I my face was still buried in her neck and silent tears were trickling down to her collarbones.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Karen questioned, worry etched in her expression.

"I was just thinking of the first time I brought you home, I was terrified of losing you, even though I didn't even know your name," I whispered as I drew away from her warm neck, missing her warmth already.

She had a sad smile in her beautiful lips; she was replaying the events too.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," she whispered back.

I then moved my lips to meet hers in a kiss. It started off loving and tender, but soon turned to passionate and desperate. Desperate to show our love, desperate to make sure there was nothing hurting each other.