𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓪

I saw Owen again that next day at the cafe.

I held my ground, wanting to be brave, wanting to learn and heal.

My hands shook as I placed his coffee on the counter. I grabbed my wrist tightly, wanting to stop.

Owen noticed this, but he didn't say anything about it. He looked at me as if he could see right through me. I tried to steady my nerves and focus, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he knew something was bothering me.

"Are you okay?"

I looked at him. His brown eyes were warm, inviting, dark like chocolate.

I swallowed and looked away. After a moment, I nodded.

He looked at me, "Clara." His voice was soft, almost comforting.

I raised my head, wishing for more costumers so I had an excuse for him to leave.

"When do you get off?" He asked gently.

My heart raced, debating whether to tell him or not. What if... I can't trust him. I can't. I can't. I can't. Oh God, help me...

"Clara, look, I-" he paused, studying me, his voice barely above a whisper. "You seem so scared." He looked around him quickly, but he was alone, the only customer inside the cafe.

I left, quickly walking into the back room, trying to steady myself. I can't. I can't.

I shook my hands as if doing so would shake away this panicked feeling. Oh God, I can't.

"It's okay... It's okay," I repeated quietly. "Ohhh," I let out a heavy breath.

"Clara?"

I panicked when he walked into the small room. "You can't be back here... You can't..." I shook tremendously as he came closer, afraid he would do things to me. I wanted to scream for someone, but I was the only one there.

He took my hand.

I stared at him.

He didn't move, just stood there, my hand in his.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Tears began to surface. I looked down at his hand, wrapped securely in mine, the tail of a snake tattooed on his wrist. Slowly, I let out a heavy breath.

"Do you need to talk?"

I glanced up at him and shook my head after a moment.

He looked at me and nodded, just standing there, my hand in his.

A sudden calm washed over me.