Suddenly, she stopped me. In a flurry of clumsy activity, she scrambled to her feet and began to pace the room. "Come with me," I told her, taking her...by the hand. "What? Where?" "Come with me," I said again with a bit more force, and guided her to her bedroom, pulling the door not totally closed behind us. When I turned around, she was still standing exactly where I had lead her. Sliding my hands just under the bottom of her shirt, I began to kiss her neck as I rubbed the soft skin of her. “Oh it’s fine.” I said, my voice slightly muffled as my head was pressed into the bed by her weight. “You can love me for now and I can love you. If we stop loving each other one day, then at least we will have loved a little.”She was silent for a moment that stretched for so long that I was worried about having somehow upset her. Maybe she hadn’t meant to say the world “love”? Maybe she meant something along the lines of “glove”? Like - “I want to say that I glove you”? Because she wanted us. ”I nodded. “You’ll be safe there,” I promised. If I can get you past my landlady without getting the police called, I added silentlyIf anything should have scared off the waif, it was my car. 20 years old, the VW had no heat, was rusted out along the entire frame, and had what amounted to no muffler. The suspension was shot 10 years ago; every pebble on the road made itself felt. Zanya didn’t bat an eye, however, climbing in. She needed assistance belting in - the concept seemed foreign to her. He had disappointed her, practically left her for dead. That gave him no right to cry. But the tears fell anyway. The tears fell on Regan’s face, making small clean streaks down her pale face. After a few moments, he forced himself to stop his womanly ways. Lying her back down on the sad excuse for a bed pallet, he took inventory of her. Her face was dirty and bloodied on one side. It looked like old blood, but he wasn’t quite sure how old the blood was. She had bruises on her arms and he.