Chapter 1 – Leal Horryn

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, mentions of trauma.

“Leal,” called her workmate. Leal, who was buried deep in the manuscript that she was editing, whipped her head in the direction of the voice and saw Ellie. “It’s lunchtime, let’s go."

Smiling at Ellie, Leal nodded and cleaned her desk before going out with Ellie and heading out for lunch. They went to their company’s food court on the lower floors and picked out a table near the window where a beautiful view of New York City could be seen.

“So, I know you’re not coming but I’m still gonna invite you,” Ellie started. Leal tore her eyes away from the scenery and looked at her. She felt like she knew what was coming...

“My friend rented a bar just downtown and it’s her birthday...”

Chuckling, Leal put down her fork and gently smiled at Ellie—appreciating her effort to continue convincing her to go out and party even though she denied it a million times.

“Ellie, thanks but you already know my answer.”

Ellie pouted, feeling miserable about another rejection. Leal never liked parties or bars. She was never the type of girl that’s outgoing and liked to have fun by dancing—that was her best friend, Izzy, and her close workmate, Ellie. She was more of a read ’til midnight type of girl and she was fine with it.

Besides, that was what her boyfriend, Dion, liked about her the most.

“But you’re turning 28 soon! You can’t waste your life by not having to party for once in your life!” She insisted.

“Ellie, not partying is not a waste of life. It’s actually a better way of living since I also avoid liquor and smoking, which is common in bars. Plus, you know I can’t go home late.” Dion waits for me every night so we can cuddle and sleep together, I can’t afford to miss that just to dance in a bar and get drunk. She thought.

Ellie exasperatedly sighed.

“Leal, I’m sure Dion would let you go home late for once! As if he never gets home late! You already came to work with bags under your eyes from staying up because you were waiting for him. Why don’t you return the favor for once?”

Shocked by her remark, Leal remained the plastered smile on her face—but the radiance was gone. She’s too outspoken today. Is she stressed?

“Ellie, listen—”

She cut her off by handing Leal her fork full of meat. Glancing at Ellie, Leal slowly bit the meat and chewed it, the rich mouthfeel and strong flavor savoring her tastebuds.

The former sighed before picking up her own steak and started speaking while chewing it. “I know, I’m ranting again. But I’m just telling the truth! Loosen up for once, Leal. You only live once, you know. And why would you even live in New York if you won’t party?!”

Leal didn’t speak again and just laughed the topic off. She was okay with not partying even if she was in New York. No matter how hard she tries, she really just couldn’t fit in with the New York girls, like she didn’t belong in New York at all! She’s too conservative, too composed, too soft-spoken, and too boring to fit in the busy state. But despite all that, she’s happy that Dion still lived with her for two years.

Though he doesn’t come home early every night, Leal understands that because of Dion’s line of work. Being one of the state’s most sought-after prosecutors isn’t really an easy job.

Nevertheless, she treasures every cuddle time she gets—may it be twice a week as most frequent or once in three months. For two years, Leal has been content. Everything in her life is well put up and she can only hope that it stays that well.

Well, she might’ve jinxed it.

Because later that day, Dion came home, holding a bottle of strong liquor, and sloppily entered their condo apartment. Leal, who had already showered and was only getting milk as it was already a few minutes after midnight, was jolted awake by her live-in partner’s aggressive actions.

He forcefully threw the ornaments in their kitchen island out of the way using his bottle and placed it on the island as he opened a cupboard and pulled out a glass, immediately shattering from the tightness of his grip. All the while, Leal was too stunned by Dion’s rash actions to clean the mess he was making.

“Babe?” she whispered.

He failed to acknowledge her presence as he frustratedly gulped the liquor from its bottle and downed the whole drink. Leal was confused and felt a foreign feeling settle inside her as she watched a different side of Dion. She knew him as the gentle, understanding, caring, and thoughtful Dion that would never throw things in their apartment nor come home drunk.

He was never like this, she thought.

She wondered why he would be acting like this. What happened? Was it the court trial he attended today? Did he lose? Leal gasped audibly at the realization. The noise caught Dion’s attention which made him turn in her direction—to the far side of the kitchen.

His grim and sunken eyes darted at her, which was way different from the calm and soothing brunette sienna orbs she liked to stare at. Leal was frightened by the look on Dion’s face.

“Babe..?” She called him again.

With long strides, Dion walked over to her. Leal was frightened of her partner’s actions which made her clutch the countertop tightly, leaning on it for support. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening. The apartment was a mess, and so were her emotions.

Dion gently snaked his arms around Leal’s tiny waist, which was opposite to his rough gaze and ticking jaw. With the tender touch, Leal’s tensed shoulders immediately relaxed and recognized the warmth of Dion’s soft caress. A small smile made its way to her lips as she was suddenly not intimidated by Dion’s dark stare and breath that smelled of cigars and liquor. She recognized him and knew that this was still the tender Dion she loves.

“Let’s go to sleep,” she whispered against him.

She placed her palm over his broad chest as he was in close proximity and slowly invading her personal place.

After a few moments, Dion’s intoxicated breath fanned over Leal’s lips as he heaved a sigh and silently nodded. As soon as they got to their bed, he scooped her up in his arms and nuzzled his nose in her neck—sniffing her scent.

Leal was momentarily afraid earlier, but now that Dion has come to his senses, she feels peaceful again. But she couldn’t ignore the tugging feeling—her gut screaming imminent danger. Restless, Leal tried cuddling more to Dion who was still wide awake and staring off at the horizon.

“Leal,” Dion’s baritone voice washed all the sleepiness slowly creeping from Leal. “When are you going to let me inside you?”

The question threw Leal off-guard.

She was shocked at his question but she knew he was going to ask that question sooner or later. In the two years that they’ve spent together, half of that was them living together; and they’ve never reached that level of intimacy. She never allowed it.

They were only full of cuddles and making out, probably until pleasuring each other but Leal would always stop it at that. For the sole reason of trauma.

When Leal was in college, she decided to let her first boyfriend, Axel, pop her cherry as they were both overflowing with emotions and both acted repulsively.

The intercourse was painful, at first, but after a few thrusts, the pain was replaced with blissful pleasure. It was a great one. But the day after that, Leal woke up alone in their hotel room with only a throbbing pain greeting her in the morning, no sign of Axel.

When she looked for him, Axel coldly spat out how bad she was in bed, and how everything was all a dare thus breaking up with her and taking her heart’s broken shards with him as he walked away. From her, and her life.

The experience scarred Leal for life.

At first, she was also afraid of men as they had consecutively broken her heart and made fun of her, from her father that disowned her to Axel that ridiculed her, until Dion came. But, still, Leal didn’t want another pre-marital intercourse to happen. It was bad enough that she was made fun of by everyone after that incident, this time, she knows Dion’s friends and her workmates will make fun of her.

Everywhere she goes, she’s never taken seriously.

“I love you,” Dion murmured as he kissed her, gently at first—until it turned more ferocious, hungry for more. His hands started wandering to her body, one of them even slipping under her nightgown. Leal was smiling, happy that Dion still loves her despite her fear of s*x... until his hands wandered down there.

His hands gently caressed her inner thigh, making her open them in pleasure. Dion’s kisses traveled to her neck, leaving love bites and licking them. As his one hand massaged her mounds, the other was busy wandering all over her body. It was all pleasure and Leal was liking it, until Dion’s moves became more aggressive, as he mindlessly s*ck*d and bit her n*ppl*s, while tugging her underwear.

“Babe, not yet. Please...”

Leal was whimpering in pleasure while saying these, so it didn’t turn out as strong as it should. But when Dion started unbuckling his belt and pants, that was when Leal started panicking.

“Dion, I can’t do this yet,” in a soft voice, she stopped him.

But Dion seemed as if deaf from all her pleas, because he continued pulling his manhood out, which was upright and in its hardest glory. He growled and slapped Leal’s hands protecting her opening.

“I said stop, Dion!”

In a clearer voice, she yelled at him. But once again, Dion seemed deaf and instead grabbed the liquor bottle that was on the bedside table. With shaking hands, Dion grabbed it and hammered the bottle to her head, his eyes misty.

“Shut up, b*tch!”

He growled and repeatedly slammed the now broken bottle into Leal’s fragile head, forcefully hitting her with the sharp shards of the glass.