She looked on from the side, as she so often did. Her curiosity, never sated, ruled her heart and mind. He didn’t hide much from her and gave her answers if she was ever brave enough to ask. Obedient behaviour, such was her nature, allowed her to be indulged in ways others might not have been, allowed her to be kept safe in huge gentle hands and soothed with soft kisses.
He wouldn’t break her, not like others, instead handling her like a flower and piecing her back together, though she felt the absence of him more often than not. All he wanted, she could not give. The bitter truth sat deep in her chest everyday, gnawing away, and only his words and his comfort could banish it, if only for a while.
Never was she asked to show herself or act in ways that would tarnish her in her own eyes. Never was she left broken and humiliated at his feet, never treated too harshly or scolded. Never did she earn his ire. Innocent, he’d called her once. She was the girl in white.
And what she could offer, she did so with the fullness of her tender heart.
But it never felt like enough, not to her. And not to him, either, she always feared.
She listened out always for the sounds of his steps or his voice, clinging to them like a child clings to a dream. She would watch him pass from the little dollhouse where he kept her and might as well have been invisible. His size changed depending on his fancy and there were rooms of the house to accommodate them. Some parts of the house she’d seen more than others, but held a vivid memory of being woken by the feel of enormous fingers wrapping around her and lifting her from her little bed.
She’d whimpered and squirmed, half dazed in the dark from sleep, with primal instincts being the first to rouse. A firm grip and hushed words quieted her. Those hands had dwindled, leaving her bundled in a pair of huge arms moments later, her head resting against a shoulder and breathing in a familiar scent. He’d kissed her, then, and it was like life being breathed into her again.
Laying her back, his hands made quick work of slipping off the white dress. She remembered how warm and heavy they felt on her skin, caressing her like something precious and pinning her down like prey in equal parts. He used his fingers first inside her, whispering to her. Told her how sweet and delicate she was, how he’d protect her, crush any who tried to harm her, or take her from him.
He’d let no one take her from him, he promised when he filled her to the brim. Little flower, that’s what he’d called her when she cried, stretching around him helplessly. Over and over, he kissed her until he’d felt her begin to relax and arch her little hips. That night was consumed in him, by him. He didn’t stop until he could cup the swelling in her lower belly and pulled her, breathless and boneless, against his chest.
There hadn’t been a night quite like that since. She had seen him carry off his other girls or seen them go to him to offer themselves up, even seen him use them from her hidden quiet. She saw what they gave him, reminded of what she lacked in turn. Only then, she would not be herself anymore. The cruelest voices assured her to be lacking was simply in her nature.
It was difficult to go to him. Putting herself forward, rather than waiting to be plucked like the flower he called her, left her strained with a sense of overbearance. If he wanted her, surely he would come for her. And since he didn’t come to her, surely it meant he didn’t want her.
Perhaps if she was braver, bolder, maybe he’d like her better then. She made it halfway down the walkway towards his desk when her nerves deserted her and she froze in place like a doe in headlights. A poor idea, she was certain, for his time could be far better spent.
Shakily the breath left her. She turned on her heels, ready to tiptoe back to the dollhouse with her face hidden by the veil of dark hair. The thoughts were too loud as they clawed in her mind that she didn’t hear him move; for a giant he could be frightfully quiet. And by the time those enormous fingers had closed around her it was too late.
“Where’d you think you’re going, little girl–”