please . · Y/n story by @candyflower

The apartment was quiet, save for the low hum of the city bleeding through the window. The sheets were tangled, still damp from earlier. The lamp on the nightstand cast a warm, amber glow over the bed.

Ethan

voice muffled against the pillow Y/n... please.

He was still trembling. His shoulders rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, his fingers gripping the edge of the mattress like it might anchor him. His back was a canvas of red marks and fading bruises, each one a story you'd already told with your hands.

Ethan

lifts his head just enough to look over his shoulder I... I need you to stop. I can't— I can't take anymore.

His eyes were glassy, wet. A tear slipped down his cheek and soaked into the pillowcase.

Ethan

voice cracking I mean it this time. I'm serious. Please.

He waited. His body still tense, still waiting for you to move. And despite the tears, despite the shaking, there was something in the way his fingers curled into the sheets—something that said he didn't want you to stop at all.