Tourniquet

Chapter 8

"Breaking news! Brad Sanders, an escaped convict charged with the murder of an entire family in San Diego, was just captured by two FBI agents right here in the heart of LA. Terry is live on the scene. Terry."

"Thanks, Jim. I'm not being allowed to get too close, but as you can see behind me-"

"Boring." Miles pointed the remote control at the television and began flipping through the channels.

"Hey!" Franziska protested, sitting between his knees on the couch in her living room. "I'm the one who got that foolish bastard convicted, you know."

"Cool." Miles began laughing as she whipped her head around to glare up at him. "Well, they caught him; I think that's all we really need to know."

"Yes, you're right," she said, calming down and leaning against him again as he continued to look for something to watch. He finally settled on the opening credits of some movie neither of them had ever heard of, and Franziska decided to just close her eyes and rest her head on his arm. She couldn't help but giggle a little as he started to absent-mindedly play with her hair, much more interested in the movie than she was.

It was about nine o'clock at night, and he had only just managed to convince her to get out of bed. She still wasn't feeling the greatest after all the crying, sleeping, and fainting she had done, but he had made her some coffee and something to eat, giving her enough energy to stay awake for a while.

As they sat there together, Franziska began to think about how she felt. She really wasn't all too sure. Sitting here with his arms around her as he gently ran his fingers through her hair made her feel so content, so happy and at peace. However, at the exact same time, something about this terrified her beyond reason. That was when the question of herself returned to her. She was vulnerable now, completely open to anything he wished to do. She knew it, and it was apparent to her that he knew it as well. He hadn't hesitated in any of his actions since arriving earlier that day, telling her that he was confidently in control.

What frightened her the most was the possibility of having her clothes removed again. He could do it again, and she was so afraid that she wouldn't be able to stop him if she wanted to. Yes, she would admit to having very strong feelings for him, but she wasn't ready. She hadn't been ready the previous day either, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to tell him so. Even though he had asked her, something about him gave her the impression that her answer to that question would have changed nothing.

So, what if he wanted to sleep with her again tonight? What could she do? She wouldn't dare call it rape, for it seemed his intentions were not sinister at all and she hadn't given any obvious protests. Still, the thought remained frightening, and she couldn't help but jump a little as at that exact moment, she felt something warm against the side of her neck.

"That was…a kiss."

So, he had lost interest in the movie and had now taken to lovingly sucking on her neck. This action gave her chills and she couldn't help but give another small giggle. When he received this reaction from her, Miles trailed the kisses upward until he reached her lips and she began to kiss him back. Taking this for a golden invitation, Miles tightened his hold on her and eased them both down so that they now lay on the cushions, his much larger body almost completely concealing her. He had long since turned off the television.

Suddenly, Franziska's thoughts returned to her, alerting her to what was going on. Her fight-or-flight instinct snapped into action, and without warning she pulled her face away from his and began to struggle. Surprised, Miles lifted himself off of her just enough for her to slip out from under him and fall to the floor.

"Franziska?" He stared down at her in utter confusion. 'What the hell just happened?' was his only thought as he watched her lying there and shaking.

Cautiously, he too slid off of the couch onto his knees beside her. "Franziska?" He made to take hold of her sides and lift her from the ground, but she let out a cry as he did so.

"No!" Her voice was muffled as she lay on her stomach with her face covered by her arms. Her body was jerking with sobs, and Miles didn't understand what this was all about.

"Franziska, it's okay," he said softly, leaning over her. "What's wrong?"

"Please…" She sobbed. "N-not again… Please…"

Now very concerned and even more confused, Miles again made to pick her up, and this time she didn't scream at him, though she didn't seem to want to be touched. He gathered her in his arms and stood up, holding her close to him as he began whispering to her words of reassurance. He rocked slowly from side to side as if cradling a small child that had just experienced a terrible nightmare.

After a couple minutes of this, Franziska's crying became much less panicked and her entire body relaxed considerably so that she became almost limp. Taking care not to make any sudden movements, Miles made his way back to the couch, taking a seat and setting her across his lap, still holding her close to him. "It's all right. You're going to be fine. Just calm down." He held her head against his right shoulder and gently kissed her forehead, hoping to sooth her, though he still had no idea what had come over her.

"M-Miles…" She looked so frightened that he could hardly stand it. "Please… Don't… Not again… Please…"

"W-what?" She was pleading with him, as if he was hurting her somehow. "Franziska, what's wrong?"

"I-I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I-I'm… so s-sorry. Please…just… please don't do it again."

His mouth dropped open upon hearing this. "Franziska, are you…?" He couldn't believe what this meant, but at the same time… it made perfect sense. "Are you…afraid of me?"

There was a tense silence between them aside from her continued sobs. She didn't answer him; she couldn't bring herself to, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

With a miserable sigh, he placed a hand beneath her chin, lifting her head so that she looked directly into his eyes. The fear was apparent to him now, and he felt his heart sink. "Franziska," he said in the softest, most gentle tone he could muster. "I would never, ever intentionally do anything to hurt you, and if I have, please tell me."

Franziska took in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to stop her crying. "M-Miles… I… I really do… want to be with you." She was clutching tightly the lace cravat that hung around his neck and was holding it to her face. "I'm s-sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said, brushing her hair back from her wet face. "Just tell me. Why are you afraid?"

"I d-don't… I don't know."

Miles shook his head. "Franziska, please… There has to be a reason. What have I done?"

She hesitated again. He seemed so gentle and ready to listen and understand, but she just felt so guarded. However, there was really no point in hiding anything anymore; he had already seen her exposed. "Y-yesterday… when you took my whip from me… I just… I felt… helpless…" She paused again, trying to find the right words as he watched her, listening carefully. "I-I didn't know what to do. I was excited, but at the same time… I realized that I felt powerless, controlled. I know… you didn't mean to, but the last person to ever have power over me was…"

She didn't even need to finish the sentence; he knew to whom she was referring. The news hit him like a ton of bricks, a knife to the heart. He…had reminded her of her father.

"Miles, I'm so sorry. I really… really…"

"No, Franziska," he cut her off. "I… I understand. I'm the one… who should be sorry. I never even stopped to think about what I was doing to you." With that, he stood up and placed her carefully on the couch. Their eyes met one more time as he looked at her sadly, then he turned his back, walking away from her with his head down. He couldn't believe it; the one person he had kept himself alive for, and he had hurt her.

"Miles."

He stopped walking, hesitant to look back, but when he did he saw her coming toward him. "Franziska-"

"Miles, please… I never said I wanted you to leave." She looked like she'd start crying again, but she was fighting it.

He just looked at her, unsure of what to say. "But… You just-"

She now stood right in front of him. "Miles… I never meant…" She swallowed hard and wiped her face with the back of her hand, trying to arrange her feelings into words. "Miles, you're the only one… who has ever given a damn whether I live or die. You're the only one who has ever believed in me, the only one who's ever stood by me no matter what I chose to do. You… you showed me what it was to be…loved…" She couldn't stop them: the tears overcame her once again and she threw her arms around his neck. "I… I can't lose you, too. Please… give me a chance to figure this out. Please."

There were a few moments of silence between them as Miles gazed into her eyes, seeing the near desperation within them. Yes, he wanted to stay more than anything, but if she was afraid of him, then he would be hurting her despite how badly she thought she needed him. However, he could not refuse such a plea from her; she just kept breaking his heart.

Finally, he wrapped his arms around her in turn. "If you're sure," he said. "I just don't want to hurt you anymore."

She rested her head against his shoulder with her eyes closed in content. "I'm sorry, Miles. I… I really should have said something before. I just-"

"No," he stopped her. "I should have known better. How about we just slow this down a bit?"

She looked up to see a smile on his face again, and she returned it as best she could. "Yes, I think that would be for the best."