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Cassandra

By: CandyCaner
folder Original - Misc › -FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 17
Views: 5,733
Reviews: 97
Recommended: 1
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I don't earn any money by creating this fiction. I own the characters. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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When You Get Better

Thank you Shuura, Julie, Saige, jackpot, bookworm, and Celery (hiii hun! *hugs*) for reviewing!



This chapter is shorter/has less words for a reason. Also, there is only one chapter after this one.



Thanks. Enjoy! :)



-----



I didn\'t leave her side at all that day.



She would fall asleep, and I knew she wasn\'t leaving me because I could listen to her uneven breathing as she lay there.



Every other hour, I would lift up the t-shirt and check on the bruises. Each time I regretted it more and more.



Every time she woke up, I would force her to talk or to listen to me talk, so I knew that she had some sort of strength left in her.



Though they looked terrible, I wasn\'t sure if the bruises were as bad as made out to be. She may have had internal bleeding, which worried me the most, but maybe if they healed, she would be okay.



--



"When you get better," I murmured, stroking her hair for the thousandth time, listening closely to her rhythmic breathing, "we\'re going to live far away from here." I smiled down at her. "You\'re going to paint all the time, and I\'m going to treat you better than anyone\'s ever treated you before. I\'ll spoil you rotten."



She\'d started to laugh, but that sent her into a coughing fit that made us both cringe. After she whimpered a little, she glanced at me with a faint smile, showing my favorite dimples. "You won\'t... say that when... I turn ugly..."



I shook my head. "You\'ll never be ugly to me," I whispered, kissing her nose and her lips softly.



Her eyelids gently closed as she fell back to sleep.



--



When she woke up a few minutes later, I asked quietly, "Have you ever... tried fighting back?"



Cassandra moaned softly as she shifted herself closer to me. "Sometimes..." she murmured. "He\'s too... strong..."



"You\'re stronger," was on the tip of my tongue, but I knew in my heart that wasn\'t true. At least not now. I didn\'t want her to get the wrong idea. She had barely enough strength to sit forward, let alone beat her husband back for the monstrous things he\'d done to her.



I heard Cassandra breathe something, a string of words, but I couldn\'t make them out.



"What\'d you say?" I asked, stroking her cheek with my index finger.



A soft noise bubbled in her throat. "Nothing..."



--



"What... will we do... about Dave?" she asked, her breathing turning heavy again.



"Don\'t worry about him."



With her eyes closed, she moved her left hand underneath the blankets and, by the slinking movement under the covers, I saw that she had rested her palm on her bruised belly. She groaned quietly. "David deserves... punishment..." she barely managed.



"Cassandra, don\'t!" I pleaded gently, resting my hand over hers.



She bit her lip, tears trickling from her eyes. "Maybe... I\'ll... kill him..." I think she mumbled, but then she\'d shut her eyes before I could ask what she meant.



--



She trembled once.



The door opened downstairs with a creak.



My heart in my throat, I kissed Cassandra lightly on the lips, whispering those three sweet words to her.



"I... love you... too, Taylor..." she whispered back, smiling tiredly, releasing my hand.



I nodded, my eyes clouding with tears. "You\'re going to be okay," I promised her, kissing the back of her hand. "You\'re going to be fine." It was horrible releasing her pale, soft hand from my own.



I threw the blankets over her, wiped my eyes, and ran out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. I could hear the boots on the stairs, and I bolted into one of the guest rooms, fixing up the bed.



Dave knocked on the door. It took so much strength to not murder him with my bare hands right there. "How did everything go today?" he asked casually. Like he hadn\'t nearly killed his wife this morning. The fucking bastard.



"Fine," I almost spat, pushing the pillow firmly into its proper place. "I need to get home."



I walked past Dave, ignoring his questioning glances between me and the guest room.



Down the stairs, I ran through the doors, ignoring the dining room, ignoring the parlor room, ignoring the interview room, ignoring all of the torment she\'d been through behind these plain, ugly walls.



Driving away, I broke down and sobbed.



--



I had this horrible feeling in my stomach...



...that feeling where you know that something horrible will happen...



...and it will happen to the wrong person...



...the one that doesn\'t deserve it.



--



"Actually, I have the tendency to fall in love a lot. But it\'s usually with sweet people. People that are loving and passionate. People that melt my heart."



--



"Taylor?"



I was suffocating.



I was tearless for the first time in hours and hours of crying.



My pillow was soaked. My body had gone limp.



I felt numb.



"Taylor, your father and I are watching the news..."



I closed my eyes. I waited.



"...someone was murdered at the Wilton Mansion."



I waited.



--



"Are you afraid to let that person know?" she asked.



"Terrified."



She shook her head. "Don\'t be. Life\'s too short for you to not let that other person know."
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