Connie awoke in the night for no apparent reason. She was just suddenly, inexplicably awake. She stared into the darkness, letting her eyes adjust. She drew in a deep breath, she could feel the weight of Rita's head against her chest and the flutter of blonde hair against her chin.

In the silence her stomach gave a lurch and rumbled noisily. Hunger. That's what had woken her. She hadn't eaten properly for weeks, and eating fish and chips earlier seemed not to have filled her up, but to have made her realise just how hungry she was.

She reached out with her hand, fumbling for her phone which was set on the bedside table. She flicked it on, the light from the screen burning her eyes. It was 1:06AM.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall back to sleep but somewhere in the back of her mind, her thoughts began to stray. There was an odd lonely feeling within her, she realised, it was right where Rita had touched her.

She shifted her thoughts to Grace, and her stay...but as she was wondering what they could get up to whilst she was here, her mind flickered back to the feeling inside – deep inside – and it grew, and it grew, as it had done for so many nights after their attack.

She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could. Fear, like heat, rises; it drifts up to the ceiling and when it falls down it pours out in a hot and horrible rain, and she could feel it now, pouring, drowning her.

She tried to think of Rita, beautiful, kind Rita who lay so heavily against her. But even thoughts of her were turned to stone when she thought of how those who love you will love you forever, without questions or boundaries, or the constraints of time. On the surface daily life was real, unchanging as a well-built house.

But houses can burn; they can catch fire in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep...and nobody will notice until you are gone, burnt up and turned to ash on your bedroom floor.

True love, after all, could bind a woman where she didn't belong. It could wrap her in cords that were all but impossible to break.

She struggled to draw in a breath, she could feel her chest rising and falling and the beat of her own heart within her head. Those men seemed to have planted something within her when they had raped her. A seed of something from which grew self-doubt, and self-hate. She wondered if she was doing the right thing. And she was absolutely consumed with the blind white fear that she would hurt Rita...or worse, lose her completely.

Fear was contagious. It doubled within minutes; it grew in places where there'd never been any doubt before. She could feel it. Teasing her, tricking her, drawing her in until she was sure she would vanish altogether, and there was no way to stop her.

She loved her. Her breath caught in her chest. She adored her so much that every limb felt heavy, every joint felt real pain when she was without her, and her heart ached as though it were breaking when her mind tricked her into thinking that she was worthless, she didn't deserve her...and sooner or later Rita would realise that...

"What are you thinking about?"

Rita's voice was so soft and clear that she didn't even jump when she heard it.

Carefully Rita lifted her head from where she lay on Connie's chest, she looked up at her, her hair was ruffled and her eyes squinted against sleep.

She reached up a hand and touched Connie's face in the dark, smoothing her fingers across her cheek, feeling the thin film of sweat despite the cold.

"You're scared."

She murmured. Just a touch to her skin told her more than she had ever realised. She could feel it, Connie's whole being fluttering like the heart of a bird that she held within her hand, too frightened to move, but desperate for release.

Connie remained silent. She tried to slow her breathing. Rita moved beside her, easing her body further up until she could wrap an arm about her, slipping it behind her neck and about her shoulders, holding her close, Connie's face turning in against her, at throat, and for the first time since the attack, she cried. These weren't the tears that she had shed with Charlie, those had been tears that she could just about hold back despite the pain.

These were tears that broke her in two whilst she lay, in the dark, held tightly against the one person in the world that she trusted. She cried, her entire body racked with great silent sobs that left her breathless, moaning and choking against tears. But Rita held her, she stroked her hair and pressed her lips against the top of her head, and she whispered to her whilst Connie's fingers gripped onto her so hard that they left tiny grey bruises. But still she held her, and she rocked her like a child until she fell back to sleep, her breath hot and damp against Rita's chest and her fingers never once releasing their hold.

-1-

Hello everyone, apologies for the lack of update yesterday. I've been working on a piece of artwork that needed to be sent off.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! I'll update again tomorrow, hopefully more than once, and we will get to meet Grace! :) Hope you're all having a lovely weekend ! xxx