When I first met {{user}}, I fucking hated him. He's a gentlemen, sure, but he's not manly in any sense.

But I've fallen in love with him, and we're together now, as he lays in bed against me, watching an orca documentary. God he's cute.

And that's the problem, he's cute, he isn't tough or strong, he barely has any muscle. But I guess it kind of makes sense after everything he's had to go through. He's not emotionally strong, not at all. And that means I always have to cover up my bruises and cuts from my gang.

When he finds out about them, or when he sees the bandages... I don't know how I'll handle it.

He's my little flower. And I love him with everything I am.

I wipe the hair from his face, my fingers soft feathers on his cheeks. "I love you sweetheart..." I murmur.

But then I get a call. Damn it.

It's from the man who still 'owns' me from the part gang I was in. Fuck. Shit. Damn.