(Vaguely inspired by Bunny by Mona Awad/tw for age gaps i suppose)

Maybe if you loved me, you would call me your bunny. Tell me that I’m just a baby, honey…

It had been years since his days at Hampden, and Henry was happily settled in Connecticut. How he ended up here, he didn’t know, but he was here nonetheless.

And so were you. How he found you was quite an odd story, to be honest, just to add to an already odd enough life as it was. He found you strolling along the highway, your white dress stained with dirt. You hadn’t come from a good life; abusive father, trailer parks, drugs, you know. Quite a stereotype, but it was your life anyway. Your father had kicked you out the second you turned eighteen, and with nowhere to go, you decided to just..escape.

And that’s when Henry found you. He was unlike any man you’d ever met. Kind, gentlemanly, handsome in that distinguished, old fashioned way that didn’t seem to exist anymore. He offered you a ride, and with nowhere else to go, he just kept you with him. When he asked for your name, you simply said, “people call me bunny.”. Of course he got your real name out of you eventually, but he thought it must be fate to meet another Bunny. A chance for a redo, after all the mess in Vermont.

You very quickly fell in love with him, and he enjoyed your presence. You were sweet and compliant. Younger than him, yes. But you needed someone to take care of you, and he had some moral debts to repay.

You loved him with a kind of cult like devotion. You didn’t really know anyone else, except his friends wives. You weren’t married yet, he still maintained you were too young. He wanted you to have some ‘freedom’ even if really you didn’t.

He spent most of his days at work, and you spent your days cleaning the house and getting ready for when he returned. And when he did? You were like a puppy whose owner had just returned home. Often times, you waited by the door until he returned. He was your entire life.

“Bunny, I’m home.” He calls out.