Here it is, one of my longest, most heart-wrenching chapters yet. Have fun. :D


You can't be serious," Blake grabbed her chin, tugging her face to look at him. "Please tell me you're not serious." He pleaded. He didn't want to believe that his best friend, the one he'd known since they were kids, had... Done such a thing to his girlfriend. Not Nellie.

Nellie tried to pull her face away, not being able to look him in the eye. Suddenly, she felt so violated, ruined, and broken. Blake cupped her face in his hands, pulling it back. "Nellie, please."

She shook her head, tears spilling out of her eyes. "I-I'm serious, B-Blake," she stuttered over her words, lip quivering before she let out a sob. Blake pulled her close, rubbing her back and murmuring reassuring words to her.

Nellie closed her eyes tightly, but she wasn't able to get Michael's attack out of her head. She felt cold; exposed, as she did on that very night. "Blake, I'm scared," she admitted. Usually, Nellie wasn't scared. She would run into the fog of danger, and she'd come out and be proud of her battle wounds. But this was different. She had been violated, and the man who had done that to her was not in jail, where he belonged. She used to be strong. She used to be independent. But after that night on the streets, she had become vulnerable and weak.

And she despised it.

Nellie had believed that she was different than most girls. She had believed that instead of following them into the bathroom to fix her makeup, she belonged in her small basement-back in Washington-that reeked of dirty water and mold, singing along to her iPod into an old microphone. That's what had made her stronger. Every slur that was thrown at her as a kid, that's what built her up.

And then Michael came along, fucked up her life (literally), and all of that strength and well-built confidence went down the drain. She felt used, like she was letting people throw her around like she didn't matter. And only Blake could convince her that she did matter, but even that didn't last long. Not like it used to, at least.

"I know," Blake said, pulling away from her. "I'm scared, too. But everything is gonna turn out to be fine, ya know?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Nellie cracked a small smile, but it crumbled as another round of sobs erupted from her.

Blake frowned. He didn't like seeing Nellie cry. He stood up, locking the bedroom door. He laid back down on the bed, looking over at her. "Nellsie, c'mere." She stayed where she was, still crying. "Nellie. Please, babe," he pleaded. She gave in, crawling over and laying beside him.

"What?" She sniffled. Blake chuckled. That little sniffle was one of the many reasons Blake was so damn hypnotized by Nellie.

"I love you," he said. "I love you, so much. And I just wanted you to know that." He wrapped strong arms around her, rubbing her back. Nellie leaned up to kiss him, and he met her halfway. Nellie attempted pulling away, but Blake pulled her closer. "No." He mumbled. "Don't leave." His goal was to make Nellie focus on them, right now, and not what had happened with Michael back then. Sure, the past hurts, but they all had to forget it.

Ahh, wise words from The Lion King, Blake thought.

He hadn't even realized that Nellie's lips had ventured from his lips, to his neck. He let out a content sigh, shifting so he was even closer to him. "I love you, too," he heard her small, quiet voice mumble, as traveled back to his lips. Blake didn't want to be... A pig, but he loved kissing Nellie.

Sure, sure, she was beautiful and amazing all the time. When she walked, talked, smiled, laughed, basically just did anything.. She was perfect, but feeling his lips on hers-and vise versa-was magical.

The kiss began to get heated, a small moan emitting from Nellie's lips. Blake smirked. He had achieved his goal. She probably didn't have anything to think about other than right now, which was pretty damn awesome at the moment. Nellie leaned away, blushing. "I think that's enough."

"No, I don't think so."

"Blake!" Nellie laughed, rolling off the bed. "We're done." She had forgotten about the Michael incident, until she heard a voice outside of the room.

"I'm gonna find out where Blake is!" Michael's voice rang from behind the door. Blake narrowed his eyes, but suddenly he had an idea. He ran into his closet, hiding. Nellie looked confused, but opened the door to let Michael in. "Oh. Hi, Nellie."

Nellie frowned. "Michael, right?"

"Right. Where's Blake?"

"He went out. You didn't see?" Nellie played along with Blake's hiding, although she didn't quite udnerstand his methods. She shivered just in Michael's presence, now that everything was so clear.

"No," Michael walked in, closing the door. Nellie backed up. "... How was jail?"

"I should ask you the same thing," Nellie replied quietly, cautiously. Michael cringed back, as if he was disgusted with himself. "You should be there right now."

Michael placed his hands on her hips. "You liked it."

"If my screaming indicated me liking it, then you need to reevaluate your people skills."

"I thought it was realistic you'd be enjoying it," Michael replied, chuckling. "It was too easy. You need to lift weights or something."

Nellie backed away from him, into the edge of the bed. She glanced at him nervously. "I'm.. I'm strong enough now!"

"I'll just turn you in again if you beat me up."

Blake held in his anger as he listened to and watched the scene from the closet. He knew that if he wasn't there, Michael would spill everything. Now he wanted to jump out and clobber him into the ground. But he stayed where he was; silent and still.

Nellie's eyes widened. "You-You what? You're the dick that turned me in!" She hissed, lunging at him. He grabbed her wrists, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Michael warned, squeezing her wrists until she was sure she was begin to lose circulation. She winced, letting out small "ow's" every few moments. Michael let her wrists drop, but he grabbed her waist again, kissing her hungrily.

"Stop it," Nellie mumbled, attempting to shove him off. It reminded her of the night when Blake had drunkenly wandered into the room she was in, bascially doing the same. Except Michael was sober, and he knew exactly what he was doing. It made the situation that much worse.

Michael didn't budge, keeping his face on Nellie's. He only pulled away a bit. "Blake doesn't have to know," he whispered. "C'mon. Don't be such a prude."

Blake bit his lip. He hated to agree with Michael, but many times he had wanted to continue his make-out sessions with Nellie, and she wouldn't let him. But Blake couldn't find any respect or sympathy for Michael. At the moment, all he felt was hatred.

Nellie shoved Michael off.

Bad idea.

Michael's eyes flashed. He grabbed Nellie's short, cropped black hair, and shoved her into the wall. She slid to the ground, shaking. "M-Michael!" She spluttered. Blake shot out of the closet, punching Michael across the face. The blow sent Michael to the floor, his nose gushing blood.

"Back off, man," Blake hissed. He knelt beside Nellie, kissing her jawline and mumbling happy words. "Stay strong, Nells. It's ok, everything's ok. I got this.. You're gonna be okay." During this, Michael stumbled back up, and kicked Blake in his stomach. Nellie moved away, too weak to defend her boyfriend, who was coughing violently. He stood up, unbalanced. He shoved Michael back, weakly, as he still clutched his stomach.

"Don't touch... My... Girlfriend," Blake rasped, eyes furious. Michael's face was a mixture of triumph and horror, as Blake regained his strength. Blake shoved him again, this time into the wall. But Michael still had more breath, more power. He started hitting Blake in the chest, neck and face. Blow after blow, Blake was winded, but he managed to stay standing.

He had to win this.

For Nellie.

But Nellie shot up as Michael brought his fist back for another blow. Nellie stepped in his way, and Michael's fist collided into her jaw. A snap or break was heard, as Nellie collapsed to the ground, blacking out.

She had done it for Blake.


I. Just. Punched. Nellie. In. The. Face.
I mean, not literally.
But I made Michael punch her.
I'm a horrible person.