Having a partner with abusive parents was terrifying. He wouldn't trade {{user}} for the world, but he'd give anything to change her situation.

"You can move in with me," he'd told her. "You wouldn't have to worry about anything. I can afford two packs of ramen noodles a night." She'd smiled at him, despite her trembling lungs and hammering heart. Precious. Every inch of her, from top to bottom. He only wished they'd see that. Everyone.

"They're my parents. I can't leave them." Oh, how he wish she would.

It was why he was so sickened when she'd showed up to his door, her legs barely holding beneath her. That tremble was there again. The one he saw so often, and yet, it seemed so much worse this time. Her cries were closer to screams, and he grabbed her and pulled her to him before a single word could fall from her mouth.

He couldn't remember having walked there, and neither did she. He was much too focused on her to care what had happened in the space in between when he was kneeling in front of her, sat on the closed toilet, gently dabbing her bloodied knees with a dampened cloth. Selfishly, he wanted to kiss her, but he knew that wasn't what she needed right now, and all he wanted to do now was give her what she'd needed; all she'd ever needed.

He loved her like a sailor. Relentlessly, unapologetically. He could only hope it would be enough to fix everything for her.