Page 39 of Scornful

"Yesterday at the warehouse. Said he'd kill anyone who hurt you again, and your dad would help hide the body."

"Sounds about right," I mutter. "They've been like that since I was a little girl. Even more so after that shit with Laken."

"Tell me about him," Geirolf says suddenly. "I know he hurt you, but I want to understand."

I pull back slightly, surprised. "Why?"

"Because he's part of your story. Because whatever he did still affects you. Because I want to undo every bit of damage that bastard caused."

I take a deep breath, not sure I want to talk about this.. "We met at a bar. He wasn't in the club, which I think Dad actually liked at first. Thought it would keep me away from this life." I laugh bitterly. "Turns out being an outsider just meant he had different ways to hurt me."

Geirolf's voice is dangerous now, that protective edge in full effect. "How?"

"Started small. Comments about my weight. Suggestions about what I should wear, what I should eat. Then it was who I could see, where I could go. He'd say things like 'You're lucky I love you, most guys wouldn't want someone with your body.'" My voice cracks slightly. "After a while, I started believing him."

"Fuckin’ bastard," Geirolf growls.

"The worst part was how he'd flip it. Make me feel like I was being too sensitive, like he was just trying to help me be better." I shake my head. "By the time I got the courage to leave, I barely recognized myself. And then he wouldn't let go, kept showing up, kept calling."

"Until that night at Bubba's."

"Yeah." I meet his eyes. "Until you stepped in."

"I'd do it again," he says fiercely. "In a fuckin’ heartbeat."

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of our pasts hanging between us.

Two damaged people finding something neither of us expected.

"Come here," Geirolf says, pulling me into his lap.

I straddle him, our faces inches apart. "Listen to me, Astrid. That piece of shit was wrong abouteverything. You're fucking perfect exactly as you are. Every curve, every inch. And I'm going to spend as much time as you'll give me proving that to you."

This time when we come together, it's slower, more deliberate.

Each touch feels like a vow, each kiss a promise.

Clothes disappear piece by piece until there's nothing between us but skin and truth.

Geirolf worships my body with his hands and mouth, whispering sweet sayings against my skin. "So beautiful," he murmurs, lips trailing down my neck. "Perfect. Mine."

That last word sends heat spiraling through me. "Yours," I agree, arching into his touch.

When he finally enters me, treating me like I might break, tears threaten to spill over.

This isn't just sex—it's something deeper, something that terrifies and excites me at the same time.

"I've got you," he whispers against my ear as he begins to move. "Always got you,minn."

I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, lost in the feeling of being completely consumed by another person.

When I come apart in his arms, I feel at peace… like nothing could hurt me ever again.

After, we lie tangled together, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow back to normal.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I've never felt more content.

"We should go," I say eventually, though every part of me rebels against the idea. "It's getting late."

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