Chapter 16 The Spark

Chapter 16 The Spark
Dragon Ironside
We entered several stores. I let her choose whatever she wants,dresses, pants, blouses, shoes. She was hesitant at first, choosing simple, practical things, almost all in dark colors. But as the hours pass, I see a change. She begins to pick out a blue dress that matches her eyes. A pair of heeled shoes. Earrings that shine softly against her dark hair.
I watch as I make the payments. And I see something in her blossom. Something that, though small and fragile, is very real. She is allowing herself to have things for herself. Things not tied to pain and fear.
We are walking back to the car, our arms laden with bags. As we pass by a small square, there is no one around. I see an old, large tree in the center casting a long shadow over a wooden bench.
Something in me, an impulse I don't examine, I don't carefully analyze, makes me stop. I gently pull her into the shadow of the tree, away from the direct view of the street, though I know Leo and Tomas are nearby, watching everything around us.
"Dragon…" she begins, my name coming out as a warning whisper from her mouth.
But I don't listen. Not completely. The sight of her with her new dresses, with the sunlight filtered through the leaves dancing on her face, with that small spark of something in her eyes that isn't fear,it's more than I can bear.
I pull her to me. My arms wrap around her waist, pulling her against my body. She is small against my frame and far too soft while my hard cock was compressed, pressing against her abdomen. She lets out a small sound of surprise, her hands still holding some bags now pressing against my chest.
"What are you…" she starts, then I lean in and kiss her.
It is a soft kiss at first. Just a press of my lips against hers. She is motionless and rigid. Her lips are sealed, and her eyes are open, full of shock.
But I feel when something changes. I don't know what I did,perhaps it was the movement of my tongue, or the low sound of suppressed desire that escaped my throat,but something makes her respond to my kiss. Her lips part slightly, she closes her eyes, and I feel her fingers clutch the fabric of my shirt.
She is kissing me back.
Even if it's hesitant and inexperienced. It is the kiss of someone who has never kissed for pleasure, only out of obligation, or as a prelude to pain. I believe it might be the first time she has truly kissed; it is something real for her, and for me, it is everything in this moment.
My world narrows to this point: her lips under mine, her body against mine, the low sound she makes in her throat. It is more than I expected and far more than I deserve.
And as suddenly as it began, it ends.
Nadja pulls away, her eyes wide and full of panic. I see something strike her, passing through her gaze. The question of what she just did is there in those beautiful blue spheres. I know there will be confusion in her mind, that she needs answers to her question.
Unfortunately, it is not a calm sea I see in her eyes; it is terror returning, multiplied in a way disproportionate to the size of her heart and mind.
And then, before I can say anything, before I can process what happened, her hand flies towards me once more.
The slap isn't strong; she is small and the movement is more panic than force, but the sound of the impact is sharp in the quiet air of the square. My head turns slightly with the blow.
I am surprised, and with that, time stops.
I see Leo's and Tomas's eyes widen in the distance. When I look back at her, I can see her panic transforming into horror as she realizes what she has just done. Again.
But this time, I don't feel anger. I feel something different. Something more complex.
Because she didn't hit me out of anger, not like last time. She hit me out of fear of her own response. Fear of what she felt.
And that changes everything between her and me from this moment on.
Without saying a word, I take her arm,not with force, but with firmness,and guide her to our car. She walks with trembling steps, her body already shrinking in anticipation, imagining the punishment she will receive from me.
I get into the car and start the engine. I pull out, tires squealing, not out of anger, but out of an urgent need to be somewhere private, somewhere where we can deal with this away from curious eyes.
Beside me, Nadja is curled against the door, her hands clenched in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. She is breathing fast and shallow, on the verge of a panic attack.
"Little One, I want you to breathe slowly," I say, my voice softer than she expects. "Just breathe, Nadja."
She looks at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears and confusion.
"I… I didn't mean to…" she begins, but her voice fades.
"I know," I say, surprising even myself, knowing the full truth of those words. "I know you didn't mean to."
I drive home, my mind working faster than the vehicle. She kissed me back. She responded, and it wasn't out of any obligation, it wasn't out of fear, but because something in her wanted to. Something in her desired me.
She became scared when she realized the confusion inside her. That's why, frightened by her own response, she resorted to violence. To the only defense she knows.
When we arrive home, she gets out of the car quickly, almost stumbling in her haste to get inside. I sigh, suppressing a smile, gather the bags scattered in the car, and follow her more slowly, giving her space.
I find her in the bedroom, her back to the door, standing in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold herself together.
I close the door behind me. The sound makes her flinch slightly.
"Nadja," I call, keeping my distance. "Look at me."
She turns slowly, her eyes still full of dread.
"You are not going to hurt me," I say, and it is not a question.
It is a statement of what I want. I see her shake her head in denial, but she doesn't seem to believe the movement she is making.
"You kissed me back," I continue, approaching one step at a time.
Even though with every step I take towards her, she takes another step back. I stop walking.
"And then you became afraid. Not of me, but of yourself. Of what you felt when our lips touched."
I feel the truth of my words hit her. Her eyes widen, her hands begin to tremble.
"I didn't… I didn't want to…" she tries again, her words coming out broken.
"You did, Little One," I say softly, but relentlessly. "For a moment, you did. And that scared you more than I ever could, and that's okay."
Tears begin to fall from her eyes, silent, unceasing.
"I don't know… I don't know how to be… this, Dragon," she whispers, her hand going instinctively to her lips, as if she can still feel the kiss there.
I move closer, slowly, giving her a chance to retreat. But she doesn't retreat. I stop before her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, to see another tear tracing a path down her cheek.
"I don't know either, Little One," I admit, and the admission comes out easier than I expected. "I don't know how to be a husband. I don't know how to have a wife who doesn't fear me. But I know I want to find out. With you."
She looks at me, and in her eyes I see the war,fear against hope, trauma against possibility, her past against our future.
"And what if I can't?" the question comes out as a broken sigh. "What if I'm too broken for what you expect of me?"
I raise my hand slowly. When my hand touches her face, she shudders, but doesn't pull away. My thumb wipes another tear from her cheek.
"Then we'll be broken together," I say, and the words are the truest I have ever spoken. "But at least we'll try."
She closes her eyes, and more tears escape beneath her closed eyelids. She leans into my touch a little, a small, almost imperceptible movement.
But it is enough. For now, it is more than enough for me.
I withdraw my hand from her face and slowly take a step back, giving her space to breathe and to process what just happened.
"I'm going to the office; I need to take care of some things. And you may not believe it, Nadja, but I'm going to celebrate the slap you gave me," I say, my voice soft.
She looks at me, her expression a mixture of relief, confusion, and disbelief. She nods and watches as I leave the room. I left the shopping bags scattered on the bedroom floor with her new dresses. With all the things she chose.
And in the midst of all this, a thought emerges, clear and undeniable, in my mind as I walk down the stairs.
She kissed me back.
And that, somehow, is the beginning of everything for both of us.