Unable to handle myself, squirming with every one of your soft spoken words, shuddering at every touch, wonder, hoping that just maybe, it will never ...nd. Longing for your touch, your voice, your soft spoken words being wrapped around my throat suffocating in your intoxicating presence. The constant glares you give me, ripping me apart, making me stare at the floor, feeling as though I've disappointed you, when I've done nothing. Making me feel like a worthless piece. Why do I want nothing. Fortunately, we had packed days before, and almost all of our luggage had been sent ahead to the train station. We only needed to dress and throw our final necessaries into a small bag, and we were off. As I scampered down the stairs, James took the bag from my hands and pushed me out the door, as anybody up waved and laughed at our predicament. After handing me up into the carriage, he reached into a pocket and proffered me an apple. “Breakfast,” he explained, then pulled a second from his. More

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