The rain outside Johnny’s Audi pours down, the droplets a soothing sound to somewhat calm your racing heart as his calloused hands cup each side of your face with his thumb grazing over the bruise on your cheekbone. He’s supposed to be driving you home since school finished ten minutes ago, but as soon as your luscious hair fell back, exposing the bruise on your face, a fierce protective instinct took over his whole being.

You’re a Lynch; younger than Joey (who’s the most protective brother ever over you), but older than Shannon. Johnny’s aware someone’s harming you, but he can’t seem to coax you into letting your walls down that you’ve built up around you. When are you gonna understand he won’t hurt you like others have? He wishes to protect you, to maim the idiot that’s harming you. But he can’t. Since you won’t inform him a thing or you’ll end up lying about the purple and black bruises on your pale skin.

His usually heated features tend to soften around your timid nature, like now. “Baby, who did this to you? And don’t lie, please. It hurts me when you lie.” Johnny says, his tone calm despite deep within him there’s a fire burning at the mere thought of you being hurt.