For a first meeting, why not make it a bit dramatic? (TW)

Date + Time February 12th 2022 + It's early night
Placement + Surroundings Near the Churchill Opera House (Some parts at it)

Clothes A dress with flower patterns Link + White small high heels
- Extra information: On the level of supernaturally beautiful + Addicting powers (Read for extra info) + She's 1,60 (1,65 with heels) + Her hair reached her mid-back.

Thread is dedicated to: @Simon Beaumont
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She'd left the house as the night crept over the city, much like she'd done so many other nights, yet this particular night was a lot more special than the rest of them. While she'd enjoyed sneaking out, partaking in whatever activities fell her way, she was going to finally meet Simon for the first time. She'd seen him before, though only through a window and with both being far apart, she knew she wanted to meet him and wanted to talk to him. She even felt giddy with the thought, seeing his face and hearing his voice, but among all listen to his words, that so often had been beautiful and in the forms of his poetry. It would be a lie, if she said she hadn't spent hours picking the right clothes, hours making sure her hair fell the right way, her skin was soft to the touch, that her rose cheeks had the right colour and of course, that she would appear as beautiful as possible. Because why most of their conversations, not always had been about appearance, she liked the possibility of him finding her beautiful, no she wanted him to find her beautiful.
She'd played it out in her head so many times, how they would meet by the opera, he would see her and just not be able to take his eyes away, the naivety of her personality, mixed with having read so much of his work, made her fantasies this very moment so many times. She liked him, even had a crush on him, he'd been the only one to truly seem like he cared for her, in a way that didn't seem suffocating and scary. He wanted to write with her and even shared parts of himself with her, in ways she hoped he didn't do with others. She knew in her mind, that he probably didn't want her, because why would he? She was a stupid and naive girl, living in a fantasy of something that wasn't going to happen, yet she wanted to believe. She wanted to have at least that, even if it was just a dream.
On her way, she would take pictures, so that he knew she was close by. She'd already told him about her tiny visits to the different parts of Churchill, so it shouldn't be that big of a surprise to him, that she would actually leave the family home, though she hoped he would be happy, that she would spend her time with him while doing something that could get her into big troubles. While she'd in some sense of the way always tried to be good, she did have a bad side to her, a side that wanted to not care and wanted to do whatever should be wanted at the moment. She didn't care too much about it when there was a chance to see him. Even as she could see the building coming into view, she almost found herself running towards it, only stopping by a crossroad, with the lights being red. She felt so giddy and yet also nervous, maybe even anxious, but she knew in her mind that when they saw each other, it would all be perfect.
A car came into view, and then everything suddenly got fast, as she heard the sound of a sliding door opening, and felt a body press against her back. A cloth was pressed against her mouth, and before she knew it, she'd passed out. In some way, she could feel her body being moved, felt herself being laid down on a blanket in the car, and then it drove away. She'd been so close to seeing him, yet now she was being taken away, as a faint mumble reached her, speaking about how she belonged to him. She didn't know what was happening, and she couldn't think about it, as her mind went numb, and darkness took over her, as it had taken over the city when day turned to night.

Outfit | Black jeans, blue shirt and black shoes with a brownish greenish jacket (link), he wears veneers to hide his serrated teeth.

Simon was unsure. Not about Persephone, of course, no, gods no, she was the embodiment of a muse to him. Whenever he thought of her, he felt the need to write and whenever he read her messages he felt ... Well, seen? It was definitely not a feeling he was used to. Being second in line was not an easy feat, and especially not in the House of Beaumont. Of course he was lucky, in some sense, as he could pretty much do as he pleased, and so he did. Writing every day, going to the theatre when he felt like it. As long as he kept up with his duties, then there would be a sure amount of money on his bank account. But his actions tonight were risky. Persephone had brought up the suggestion that they meet, and while all he ever dreamt of was getting to do just that, he felt scared too. Afraid he might disappoint her with his own mediocrity. That he couldn't live up to the words he wrote to her, or the poems he sent. He was a fraud in his own eyes, and yet he had never been himself more than when he wrote with the mysterious window girl.
And now, here he was. Standing in front of the opera house, phone in hand and in his other a single flower. In his writings he often wrote about nature, and one poem Persephone had declared her favorite was about a single rose. Of course it was symbolic, but he also felt it was almost an inside joke at this point - something which he couldn't recall he ever had had with anyone before. Checking his phone from time to time he was starting to get anxious. Fight or flight was about to set in, and he was not much of a fighter, that was for sure! The photos that she kept sending. One step closer by the looks of it, and he felt a slight shiver run down his spine, the nerves making his hands a little shaky. How was he even going to speak? He would surely start to stutter or worse be absolutely silent. What a mistake this was. He was not fit to be talking to someone as kind as Persephone. He felt like a phony, like he couldn't even confess to her how much of a weakling he truly was.
He saw as the three dots popped up on screen, signaling to him that she was indeed texting him. But then the message never arrived. Frowning he stared at the screen as if that would make the message appear as if by pure magic, but alas he had not grown such powers overnight. Had she perhaps regretted? All color left his face as he thought about it, he must've looked positively ghastly as he tried and fumbled a bit with his phone, opening up his friend finding app. Through that he would be able to see if she was even close. And well she was, briefly, but then her icon almost ran across the screen and his eyes narrowed. Was it bugging out? And at a time like this? No, it simply couldn't be. That was when realization hit him. Something had happened, and she was hurrying away.
Normally Simon was not one to intervene in the happenings of other people's lives, but this felt so out of character for the young woman he had been messaging. Dropping the rose off in a nearby bush, he headed towards the taxis lined up in front of the opera house, getting in one of them, asking the driver to follow the tracker. At fist he got a rotten look, as if he was some obsessed ex-boyfriend, but the driver wanted the money so off they went. At some point her tracker wasn't moving as fast anymore. Was she slowing down? What was going on, she couldn't possibly have just decided to go for a jog. He got out of the taxi, paying the driver and made sure to leave him a tip for his troubles as well, but his mind was far too busy with worrying.
From the outside it didn't look too sketchy. It was a relatively large area that he had gotten to, the windows barred up and the feeling in his gut told him that things were very wrong here. And yet he persisted. Following the small tracker still, he managed to locate a building further away from the rest that had a small light lit on one of the top floors. It looked like something out of a horror movie - at least with the evening fog putting a soft blanket on the earth and hiding any visible footprints that might give him a clue as to where he was heading.

She'd been out of it through most, if not all of the driving and it was only really when the car stopped, and she could feel the movement in her body from the motion, she slowly seemed to wake up. Not that she would be able to get up and away from the people, as her mind seemed foggy and almost out of it. It reminded her of waking up from a really deep sleep, not really sure where you are or what to do, but then only so much worse. Unable to open her eyes, she couldn't really get a sense of what they were, even as arms raised her up from wherever she'd been placed after having been knocked out. She could sense breathing, and the warmth of a body against one side of her body, while the soft walking gave her an idea about them probably either getting inside or to some hiding place.
Fear almost intoxicated her, and her head felt like it was spinning, while she imagined the horrors the man would do, maybe he'd torture her or maybe even kill her. She would die, never having to meet Simon in real life, never having experienced life or having been loved in the way she wanted, and it was scary to think about. With having lived for almost 23 years, it had been like she'd never really lived at all, and now she might not even get the chance at all.
Before she knew it, the softness of a bed was underneath her, and a cold hand against her cheek, touching her cheek and doing what she assumed was an attempt as a loving touch. Yet when the wanted reaction didn't come, the before so soft touch turned violent, and a slap came across her cheek. Her head flew to the other side, almost giving her a whiplash and she groaned in pain, as it throbbed across her jaw "Good, finally awake," the voice commented, before then continuing "I've been waiting for this moment, for such a long time." She hadn't turned her face towards him, so she neither knew what he looked like, nor what expression his face held and yet the tone of his voice gave an indication of it. She could almost smell it in the air, smell it around him, as if it had been a cologne, with a scent of superiority complex and narcissism. It didn't surprise her, that he'd chosen this way of meeting her, rather than to just talking to her because she was probably not a person for him.
Still not getting the right reaction from her, or what he'd imagined she would react to having been kidnapped and now held against her will, he grabbed her jaw in his hand and forced her eyes to meet his, as her head was turned. Her skin felt dirty, and she wanted to get away, yet actually looking at him, he seemed familiar, like she'd seen him from afar or passed by him on the streets. Her brows frowned and her head was spinning, she couldn't even really focus on his face "I've wated this moment, since i first laid eyes on you and you're even more beautiful up close." His hand slowly went down her neck and then ran over her left breast, only making her feel even dirtier than before. She wanted so badly to close her eyes and turn her face away, not be in this nightmare anymore, and yet unable to she had to endure.
She could hear his breathing, sense his gaze on her, though he quickly got occupied with the buttons on her dress, while her hand then reached out to grab whatever had been on the nightstand, which luckily for her, had been that of a vase. She quickly connected it to the side of his face, breaking it in the process, yet it connected and with a groan he fell to the floor, holding his bleeding face. She tried getting off the bed, not as simple of a task as one could wish for, but with the struggle she somehow got down, pulling herself towards the door, hands against the floor, her nails threatening to fall off, as she struggled against whatever had been given to knock her out. She even came a good amount of space away from the bed, before a hand grabbed her leg, pulling her back "You're not gonna leave me now, you fucking bitch." She cried out, as he pulled her towards her, turning her over on her back "no, please no!" she wanted to say more, plead more and in some way make him stop and yet nothing really was able to come out, besides those few words.
He sat on her stomach, as she tried fighting against him, she wanted him off her and wanted to get out. It wasn't as easy as she'd read in the books, and she felt naive not to think this of the world, not to think someone would do this to her and now here she was. Her hands had reached up, trying to scratch him in some way or maybe even punch him, but rather easily he grabbed both and forced them over her head, with such strength she would be surprised if she didn't have bruises forming already "this is not how I imagined this was going to go, you were supposed to love me!" he yelled, letting go of her throbbing wrists, as his hands locked around her neck "this is your fault, you made me do this!" he was still yelling, though she couldn't think much of it, as her airway almost got crushed underneath the weight of his hands. She could even feel her head pounding and spinning, while he choked the life out of her "You belong to me!" he seemed unable to stop talking as if he was trying to calm himself down or justify why he was doing this, and yet she couldn't really pay too much attention to it. It didn't even take too long, before her vision started to blur, her eyes twitching as everything went black. She'd often imagined how she would die if it would be in some cruel way, or maybe if she'd be so lucky to be queen and die of old age. It had even occurred to her, that she might die in an accident or by murder, yet she'd never actually thought it would happen, but as she slowly felt herself slipping away, she tried thinking good thoughts, tried to remember the people she'd met and cared for, she thought of sweet Simon and their meeting through the window, she even thought of Millie and their night together. But it didn't take too long before everything went black and she was passed out.

Oh Simon, you were on deep water and unable to see the bottom. And yet in the moment all he could really think about was making sure that Persephone was safe. His heart started racing as he went around the building, hearing murmured voices from the inside, and something breaking? Okay. Time to man up. He took a deep breath as he pulled at the door, which lucky for him wasn't locked. Heading inside he could hear the grunting and commotion upstairs, moving as silently as he could, and yet he could feel how fast his heart was pounding in his chest. For Persephone, he reminded himself. He had to be Hercules, ready to fight any monster he might come upon, and yet his body was jittering.
Getting up the stairs was another feat. The building arranged in a strange manner, and yet he praised the luck of the gods that he did not make it creak. Looking around he followed the angry male voice, reaching a room that had light coming out of the bottom of the door. Bending down, he looked through the keyhole, holding his breath, but what happened next was almost as if his body acted on it's own. Opening the door, he lunged forward at the guy, pushing him back and off of the victim on the ground. At this point he hadn't even realized it was Persephone, only that this man were aiming to kill. Whether it was brilliant fighting skills or pure luck, the guy seemed to stumble backwards, his head clashing with the bedpost and collapsing on the floor. Simon stood there panting. Adrenaline pumping in his veins. He had never been a fighter, and he knew he would never be able to replicate what had just happened, but in this moment his whole body shifted, attending to the young woman on the floor.
"Persephone," he breathed out, not sure if it was from relief or the adrenaline still being spread like wildfire by his blood. He fell down on his knees, hovering over her as his hand moved to her neck, feeling for her pulse. She was badly bruised, the imprints of the man's fingers still around her like a ghostly mark. "Please breathe," he whispered, leaning down, listening for her breath as he held his own. Any sign of life. Please! If anyone could hear his prayer, please let her live. And that was when he felt the low beating in her neck. The sign he had needed. Fumbling he managed to take out his phone, dialing up the emergency hotline and getting in to contact with personnel that could guide him.

As the police arrived, they apprehended the guy who had been the perpetrator in this whole ordeal. The guy having a crazed look to him as a medic wrapped a blanket around the female mythical's shoulder. Simon was giving his statement to the police, his eyes kept darting towards Persephone, hoping she would be alright. "You're quite lucky, dearie, a few bruises here and there, but I would like that you are not alone the first 24 hours - just to be sure you haven't gotten any head trauma," of course the physical aspect was just that. Physical. "I would also advise that you see a specialist in regards to what has happened tonight; While your bruises might heal fast, there are wounds that we doctors can't so easily stitch," she said, sending her an apologetic smile, but clearly she had Persephone's best interest in mind.
Simon eventually finished his talk with the police, moving over to the young woman whom he had only written with. He was fiddling a bit with his fingers. Nervous yet again because now the adrenaline was gone he felt less inclined to just act. "Does it hurt?" Gods, why didn't he just slam his head down in the concrete and get a set of balls already! Of course she was hurt, you dimwit, she was covered in blood and bruises for crying out loud! Lifting a hand he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths, "I do apologize ... I meant to ask, how do you feel?" He felt so stupid. First time he meets this wonderful woman his own age and he goes and ruin it with his stupid question.

The second the man's hands were off her neck, allowing her body to naturally heal itself and of course, allowing her to actually breathe in air. This also meant she got more present, she could sense she wasn't alone or rather that she was no longer alone with the stranger, though she didn't recognise the voice talking to her, only that it seemed relaxing to her. She felt his hand against her skin, and as she finally opened her eyes, he'd been the first she'd seen as her eyes opened, and she wanted to smile. She wanted to say his name, but at the moment seemed unable to and not in the right space. It had been a scary episode, so close to dying and maybe even that of something worse, yet she was alive but also changed by the whole ordeal.
With the arrival of the police, and the arrest of the man, she should be okay and she should be able to move on, yet she still felt dirty and could even still feel the touch of his hands on her body. Even now, when she was safe with Simon, did she feel as she was dirty and broken. Her eyes would be darting around everywhere, unable to really look the person into her eyes, yet she nodded and then just wanted to get on with the night. She wanted to go back to the moment, when all she could think about was to see Simon, was to hear his voice say her name, not in shock and terror, but with that of happiness.
Her darkened gaze was still lowered, as Simon joined her, she could feel his presence by her side, which she realized felt more comfortable than the strangers presence had. It was more inviting and warm, whereas the man's had been cold and scary to be around. She did, however, raise her eyes, as she heard him talking to her, the simple question and yet he seemed to beat himself up over it "I think I'm okay, but I don't know." Her voice was huskier than usual, the result of having been strangled to that extent "I'm sorry this was how we ended up meeting each other," she wished it had been different, yet one couldn't always get what they wanted. She wanted to ask him if he'd want to spend the night with her, not that they should have sex, but she felt unsafe and scared and didn't really wanna go home, but could she ask him? Would he even say yes? "The doctor... she said that I shouldn't spend the next 24 hours alone, you know because I might have a concussion. I guess what I'm trying to say is if I could stay at your place?" she felt naked as she asked him, not even able to look him into his eyes.

Hearing her speak should've made him feel more at ease, and yet he could hear how strained her vocals were. Even if he wasn't sure what she sounded like usually, he could hear how unfamiliar her voice sounded. It was strange in a way, being so close to her and yet feeling so far away because of his own worries. He just hoped she wouldn't be cross with him. But then she spoke of needing a place to stay. Hesitating, he let his hand fall down his side, looking at her as if he was making sure this was what she wanted. "O-of course," he stuttered, looking at her with his blue-green eyes filled to the brim with worry. The next headache would be her family, but right now he wanted to focus on her well-being and not whatever her family deemed was right. She knew herself best, so he could only comply.
The doctor was slowly packing her things away, speaking briefly with one of the police men to give her evaluation of the whole ordeal. Simon looked at the blanket that was wrapped around Persephone. It was one of those metal shiny ones, those that were not comfortable but generated heat. He took off his jacket, handing it to her, as the strange material looked positively uncomfortable. "I'll call us a taxi," he told her, making sure she was sat alright before stepping away to make the call. Maybe she would've preferred walking, but at this time of night and after what she had been through, he didn't even dare think to have her walk very far.
Returning he thanked the doctors and policemen for their work before looking at Persephone, "can you stand?" he asked, his voice soft and caring, and yet not infantilizing. Rather his voice was smooth, the worry clear, and yet there was so much deep feeling in how he spoke. If she had trouble standing, he would reach down around her, lifting her up in his arms. He was not the strongest, but to his luck she was almost as light as a feather - or maybe he still had a fair bit of adrenaline in his bloodstream. Carrying her out of the building and down to the street, the taxi was already there, waiting to take them back to his place. Placing her in to the back, he went around the car to enter from the other side. He was surprisingly silent, but it was not like he wasn't present. Making sure to check if she was alright, asking her numerous times if she was cold, even offering her to sit closer to leech off of some of his body heat, though he doubted he smelled as nice from all of the stress sweating.

Reaching his place luckily didn't take long. The beautiful apartment complex being lit up by LED lights out front. He paid for the ride, getting out and around the car to help Persephone out once more, carrying her again if that was what it took. He just praised himself lucky to have an elevator in the building as he lived on the top floor.
Unlocking the door to his apartment, it had a pretty basic layout. The entrance had a small rack for jackets and a small area where he stored his shoes. He would help her out of his jacket and her shoes if she let him, otherwise he would let her handle that by herself. It was clear from the get-go that he was very considerate and maybe a bit too much for his own good. "Quite funny, actually, I believe you'll be my first overnight guest," he joked, though he wasn't sure what was funny about it. Maybe he was just too nervous to really think too much. From the entrance it opened up to a rather spacious penthouse, a nice open kitchen and living room and a few doors leading to a bedroom and a wash room. And then of course were the door out to the terrace that came with the apartment, rather spacious and with a small garden even.
"Perhaps we should inform your family?" he suggested, not sure what to actually make of it. He knew she wasn't happy with her circumstances. From what she wrote in her messages she had at least alluded to the fact that she felt trapped, and on top of that he knew only of her small walks. "I think it would only be proper, and our families are quite adjusted to one another," he spoke proper, maybe even snobbish, but there was nothing snobbish about him. Well besides where he lived. He was quite down to earth, a simple guy with simple pleasures.

She found it cute how nervous he seemed, which also matched with her own current state. Yes, she was traumatized by what had happened, but there was also some nervousness in her, given that she'd just met someone she'd been writing to for a good while, but never actually had gotten the chance to meet. This didn't negate everything that had happened, but in some ways, it did make it easier to push away and maybe even for now just forget, at least because she didn't want to talk about it. Her gaze had lingered away from him and yet when he gave her his jacket, as a substitute for the uncomfortable blanket she'd been given by the police, she allowed herself to look up at him. If just for a moment, she smiled and then put on. While he was away, she pulled up at the collar of the coat, smelling it if not just to see if it smelled like him. She felt so embarrassed about it, she quickly stopped, so that he wouldn't notice what she'd been doing.
If she hadn't found him cute before, she sure would now, the kind way he'd asked such a simple thing, yet as she seemed unsure, just lifted her up. Her arm reached around his neck, her eyes looking up at him as if he was her hero, which in many ways he was. Beautiful and like the ones in her books, and so clever from what she'd been reading. Forgetting the episode with the man, she felt like a girl out of a romance novelle, saved by the prince and deemed to be happy for once. She didn't really even notice that they moved, it was only really when she was placed inside the taxi, she'd notice how far they had gotten. She'd found his questions kind, even when he asked if she was cold, she would allow herself to cuddle up against his chest, she knew he probably only did this because he wanted to be nice, but she took this moment for herself.
Getting inside, much like how they had gotten to the car, her eyes looked around the wonders of his home, it was simple but she liked it. She'd allowed him to help her, not that she actually wanted to get his jacket off, yet she wasn't going to get into all that with him and not at this moment. She feared he would find her strange if she was to ask to keep on the jacket "I feel honoured," she said in the same raspy whisper as at the police station, but she did feel honoured that he would allow her into his home.
The comment about contacting her family did make her nervous, she knew her father would be furious and her mother believed her to be nothing more than a common whore. Yet in a way he was right, even if she didn't want to reveal her breaking rules, it had to be done "you are right." She sighed for a moment he hand reaching up to touch her upper arm, as she stood there in front of him "I'm sorry our first meeting had to be so chaotic, it wasn't how I'd imagined it going." Her blue eyes locked on him "but thank you for helping me, it means a lot."

While she was standing there he couldn't help himself from imagining how he would've reacted to seeing her at the opera dressed like this. She looked absolutely beautiful, and yet it would not be something he could muster up the courage to say right now. And even besides that, the last thing she needed was compliments, right? Watching her reaction to what he said about her family made him sigh. How many times had he not wished for this to be a simple fairy tale where he would rescue her and give her a freeing existence. But rules were rules, and he could not disappoint his family by betraying the friends of them like this. As she stood there, she looked positively forlorn, almost shy and yet there was still a glimmer in her eyes. The fact that she looked at him like that made him feel nervous, because such attention had never been gravitated towards him. No, in his family it was his elder brother who was the good-looking one, the dashing as his mother put it quite eloquently.
Lifting his phone as if to sign that he would make the call he told her, "make yourself at home," sending her an apologetic smile, exiting through the glass door to talk on the phone. He knew what would be met him was anger and frustration, but he could bear it. He would not let harm come upon her any more tonight if he could help it. Lucky that it was Persephone's mother who picked up, he had a pretty decent conversation with her. He told her about what had happened, how the police and doctors had advised that someone stay with the young woman for the next several hours and that he would take her by a doctor on the way home, just to have her check up and everything. They came to an agreement; Persephone could stay here through the night as long as he brought her back the next day. Could he even sense something of a joy in the mother's voice? He wasn't sure as they ended their call.
Coming back inside, he unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt, breathing out in a heavy sigh, moving a hand up to mess with his curls. This was quite the headache, and yet it was not one he minded. He was a selfless person, doing what other needed of him, and right now this wonderful and quite innocent young woman needed him. He wasn't sure where he would find her, as he had said she could make herself feel at home, so he went to search for her. "Persephone?" he called out, his voice soft and almost tender, yet not as if he was calling for a child.

As he vanished outside, to make the phone call to her family, she wondered who would be picking up the phone. Had it been her father, he would be mad and angry, not to mention demand he brought her back, her mother would probably not care and her brother would refer to her as a slut. She didn't know where to place herself, as he'd asked her to make herself at home and yet she felt awkward and didn't want to do anything wrong. She moved around a bit in the apartment and ran a hand through her hair, her eyes taking in all the details around her. How she managed to stay this calm, seemed almost supernatural in a way, or maybe it was just the shock of everything, mixed in with adrenaline and nervousness.
She'd been walking around, studying the place, though not moving to the bedroom out of fear of being caught. This didn't mean she sneaked a tiny look, before then going on to something else, and yet as she heard him calling her name, she went back to where she'd been, to begin with. She looked at him, as it didn't take her long to discover the changes he'd made to his appearance and she wanted to be closer to him. Yet at the same time, there were many things stopping her and many of them she didn't really wanna think about "yeah?" She finally asked, her gaze moving from the lose buttons at the top of his shirt, to the hair she just wanted to run her fingers through, before meeting his eyes.

He breathed out in relief as she returned, and you could see in his eyes how he went from worried to more relaxed. Just seeing her alive, not lifeless as she had been at that apartment ... Just thinking about it made the hairs on his neck stand up. He sent her a small smile, "I've explained the situation, and they seemed to take it well," he said, wanting to be as transparent as he could right now. She deserved to know everything that was going on, or at least he thought as much. "You can stay the night and I'll have you checked up by a doctor tomorrow before I take you home," that was the agreement, and while she might hate him for it, he also had no clue as to what was the right thing to do.
"Now, I think it be best if we got you changed into something more comfortable ... I probably have some clothes you can borrow for the night, if that is alright with you?" he suggested. His clothes would be rather big on her, but since they were going to stay here, there probably wasn't that much to worry about. He walked closer to her, moving slow and not hiding his hands at any point, almost as if to gain her trust while unknowingly probably already having it. He looked at her dress, seeing that it had been quite badly bruised as well, he wondered if it would make sense to put it back together or to simply toss it. Touching a bit of the torn fabric he sighed to himself, his eyes filled with regret. Had he not encouraged her, she would've never gone out at this hour and never gotten herself in to trouble. "Come along," he said, letting go of the fabric to lead her in to his bedroom.
In the corner of his room stood his desk, filled with papers scribbled on and pages laying a bit unorganized, but it made sense to him. He opened the door to a closet, walking in as he hummed to himself, "short or long sleeved?" he asked, looking at her, hoping she would give an answer to what she was most comfortable with. Once she had made that choice, he picked out a few options for her. Maybe she had a preference in fabrics? He knew he surely had. He also found a pair of shorts that were in a softer material, almost like pajama pants, "I don't know if they'll fit, but you can give it a shot if you want to," he said, flashing her a small and shy smile. As the clothes had been sorted he went to leave the room for her to change, only stopping himself briefly, "are you hungry? Thirsty? I'll bring you anything you like," he said. This was clearly a safe space, and he wanted her to feel that as much as experience it.

She played with some fabric of the dress, as he explained the situation and what was going to happen, which she was okay with. She enjoyed that she could spend more time with him and maybe even get to know him in a different way, than what she'd done throughout the last few years. Even if the way they went about meeting each other, maybe wasn't one she would recommend, focusing her brain on the current positives, was making sure she wasn't just breaking down into a mess "that's alright with me," she wanted to tilt her head, but just as much as thinking about it, almost send shocks of pain throughout her neck, so instead, she just stayed still as he got closer. Her heartbeat started to get faster, as he touched the broken dress, one she'd spend such a long time picking out, yet now appeared mildly destroyed after everything.
She could sense the regret in him, maybe even a bit of self-hatred, much like the one she had about herself and how she was beating herself up about it. Yet not for a moment did she think he did something wrong, not for a second could she imagine blaming him for what had happened this night. Instead of commenting on it, she followed him to his bedroom, her eyes darting around even more now than when she'd seen it through the crack in the door "long sleeves." She'd been taught to wear long sleeves, that it would protect her, so almost more came naturally to her asking for that, rather than to ask for the other thing.
Now having been given the clothes, she looked up at him with a smile "thank you," she said with a softness to her voice, which hadn't been there until this very moment, as she stood with him. She could even swoon over his own tenderness and if not also the shy smile "I would like some water, but if it's okay, I'm quite exhausted." She played with the fabric between her fingers. Was he to leave after this moment, then she would change into the clothes he'd given her, before then joining him once again. How she just wanted to walk over to him and hug him, allow his warmth to embrace her and make her forget about everything that had happened.

Water? That was an easy fix. He left her, letting the door remain half open, just to let her know he wasn't trying to keep her in the bedroom. Going to the kitchen, he opened up a cupboard, taking out two glasses, one for himself and one for her. His fridge he had almost just gotten restocked, so he picked out a pitcher of water which had a few fresh slices of lemon in it. It made it more interesting taste wise to him. Filling the glasses up, he grabbed his own glass, taking a few gulps as he leaned back against one of the kitchen counters. He felt warm, like his body was suddenly realizing what it had gone through. Opening the cuffs on his shirt, he rolled the sleeves up before grabbing his glass once more. That was when she appeared once more.
Stunned he just stood there, leaned against the counter with his glass in hand, looking at her. She looked almost more beautiful now, if that was even possible, but perhaps it was because she was always beautiful to him. "Y-your water," he said, gesturing to the glass on the counter not far from him. Of course he knew that someone like Persephone with her stunning looks would never look his way in a romantic sense, and for some reason he was quite alright with that fact. He had gotten to know the wonderful person she was through their messages, heard about her hopes and dreams. He truly felt like he knew her, and yet here they were almost acting like strangers. Truth be told it was his own cowardice. His own insecurities and doubts that made him not step forward and pull her in to his arms like he had wished for so many times. But that was a selfish thought, and he was not about to hurt her further.
"I," he said, taking a deep breath as to calm himself a little, "I know you said you are exhausted, and I don't blame you, but I would feel stupid if I didn't at least try and speak with you now that you're here." He felt like he had to watch his words. He didn't want to trigger a fear from earlier, but he also felt like he needed to clarify some things. Maybe even apologize, even if what he had done had lead to her safety. He placed his glass down, telling her rather honestly about how he had gotten worried and opened the tracking app. How he under normal circumstances wasn't someone who tracked others, but her abrupt messages made him worry in a way he hadn't felt before. "You see ... You've grown to be quite dear to me," was that too forward? Oh no, what if she thought he was coming on to her? He was not trying to be predatory and try and schmooze her now after the night she had had. "I mean, from our exchanged messages - and I hope you don't take this the wrong way - but I feel like I've found, perhaps, a kindred soul in you?" the way he spoke to her was so vastly different from how the attacker had spoken to her. His voice smooth and tender, raw with emotions and it was clear he wasn't afraid to open up. Simon had always been in touch with his emotions, and while some people had rediculed him for it, it hadn't changed how he was. "And I want you to know, that I am the same Simon as you've read about in our messages; I do not demand that you take refuge in me, but I want it to be known that I am here for you. Even if it is about what happened tonight, I want you to feel just as safe with me as you have stated you feel with my messages."

His comment made her chuckle softly, before walking over to get the water. It seemed that every single moment in him, made her remember those feelings she had for him and the crush that she'd developed over the years. Being close to him and hearing him actually speak, as well as being able to be close to him, made it all a bit more real for her "Thank you," she gently took the glass and lifted it to her lips, while her eyes seemed unable to look away from him. Especially as he started speaking, trying to explain exactly how important she was for him. She wanted to know how he felt about her and also how the current situation had affected him, yet as she could feel her heart started beating faster, as he even called her dear to him and even a kindred soul.
She placed the water down, only to end the space between them, though not to do what she might actually have wanted all along, but rather just to give him a hug. Her cheek was placed against his chest "Thank you for everything, it means a lot to me and you are quite dear to me too." She smiled almost shyly, as she said it and it would surprise her if he hadn't felt how her heart beat so aggressively, with being so close to him. She even had to step back a bit, just to not make it too clear how nervous she was "Shall I sleep on the sofa?" she asked, just to clear the air of the awkwardness that was her hugging him.

Her reply, albeit brief, was enough to ensure him that she was not seeing him in a bad light. He had feared that his actions might've made her more upset, but for now he let his worries rest. That was when she asked where she should sleep. Frankly he hadn't thought about it, but letting her sleep on the couch seemed much too impolite for the mythical. He shook his head, placing his glass down on the counter, leaning back against his palms that were now flat on the surface behind him. He was tall, so he had to bend his knees a little to reach it. "If it is what you wish for, but I think you will find my bed is much more suited for a good night's rest," especially after what she had been through. While her sleeping in his bed might sound suggesting, he smiled softly at her, "I won't get much sleep anyways," he added, just to let her know that this was what he wanted as well. He hadn't let her come here to just sleep on the couch and then take her home, no, she would get some proper rest in a bed and he would watch over her as the doctor had told him to. "I'll just ... Sit reading or something," he assured her, his whole body clearly showing how calm he was.
He wouldn't give in until she took the deal, even offering to change the bedsheets if that was what she preferred, though he wouldn't call the linen that was on dirty by any means. "Bathroom is down the hall to your right ... I think I do have a spare toothbrush as well, if you'd like?" was he too considerate of everything? He could seem like he had almost planned it all out, but he was just the type to have that kind of stuff on hand. Regardless of whether she wanted it, he found it for her, placing it near the sink before letting her have a few moments perhaps to collect herself, remove any smudges of makeup or whatever it was young women like her did in the bathroom at this time of night. Meanwhile he went to the bedroom, picking up the book from the bedside table, placing it over at his desk where he lit a small light. It gave the whole room a warm ambience to it, and wasn't too bright as to wake anyone sleeping on the bed, but also bright enough for him to be able to read his book. Checking that the linen was alright he took a step back, sighing as he felt tired. He could feel his whole body aching, but how could he even rest when he knew she could have some hidden head trauma?

She raised her eyebrow, as he suggested she was to use his bed, even stating he wouldn't get much sleep. It wasn't as much the statement about allowing her to sleep in his bed, but rather that he didn't sleep or wouldn't be doing it, that caught her. She didn't know what it was that made this happen, and yet didn't feel as if in this current moment it was okay to ask questions, so in the end, she just didn't say anything, even if it puzzled her. Of course, it was also because she'd forgotten what the doctor had told them, so in her head, it didn't make any sense "I'll accept," she smiled softly, as she looked at him, in a way excited for the next morning, though only because that could give them the chance to talk more if they were to eat breakfast together.
The instructions were simple and easy to follow, or else she would try to find her way around his apartment, and with practice would come to a better sense of security. After all, this was her first visit of what she'd hoped would be many more. She followed him to the bathroom, getting herself ready to go to bed and maybe just relax for a moment. When done she left to join him in the bedroom "I really appreciate everything you've done for me," she whispered tenderly, as her lips pulled into a kind smile. He'd done so much more for her, than what he'd probably ever know about and the way he could just make her day so much better, by simple writing her a text, it was crazy.

Why did she have to be like this? So sweet and kind on top of being beautiful. But he wasn't thinking of her beauty as how she looked, no, he saw what her insides were like. He had seen that through their messages back and forth, felt it in the presence that she gave with every word she wrote to him. And now when he finally had the chance to tell her how much she had helped him without knowing, he felt at a loss for words. He wanted to tell her how much he had grown to care for her, for her well being and just wanting to see her have all her dreams and aspirations fulfilled. But all he could say was, "please, it is the least I could do," and that would perhaps open another thought in his mind. The fact that he could've done so much more if only he was brave enough.
He stepped away, letting her get in bed as he moved over to his desk that was placed against the wall. He spent most sleepless nights writing, but not tonight. Tonight he would read and watch over her, be there if she woke up, shivering from her nightmares as her mind had time to process what had happened today. "Is the light alright?" he asked, being able to dim it down if it was too bright. He sat beside the light, like an immovable watcher who was there to look out for her.

Night turned to day, and as he had been able to get a bit of rest in his chair, it hadn't stopped him from comforting her if and when she woke up during the late hours. As soon as the light came through the curtains in the bedroom, disrupting his miniscule sleep, he stretched. Opting to go have a shower first, freshening up as he still felt like he smelled of sweat and adrenaline from the night before. Getting dressed he picked out something neat, a light blue shirt with a pair of grey dress-pants that he felt went well together. It was more casual than what he usually wore, but he also felt like shedding a bit of his posh look for her to see the real him. Even if she wouldn't. His sleeves he had rolled up, keeping the buttons at the top open like yesterday as he got to cooking.
Simon was a good cook. Strange for a man of his stature, but he had always found comfort in creating, and that had extended to food as well. He picked out a few of his own favorites; Freshly scrambled eggs with bacon, a small bowl of mixed fruits and of course some of his home baked bread that he lightly toasted to spread cold butter on. Pouring a cup of coffee and juice, he placed it all on the table before he went back to the bedroom. "Are you awake?" he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed, feeling her forehead gently with the back of his hand, just making sure she wasn't running a fever or anything unexpected. "I've made breakfast if you're hungry?" he suggested in a soft voice, clearly still unsure about where he stood in all of this. On one hand he felt as if he had known her for so long that he was allowed to hug her, and yet he barely knew her outside of their messages.
"Or do you want a shower first? I can find you more clothes that you can borrow if you so prefer?" was he getting annoying to her? Was he being too considerate? He wasn't even sure anymore, and decided to just hope that she didn't find him unbearable to be around.

She felt exhausted on so many levels, almost like she'd been up and about for so many hours, never allowed to either sit or relax. So when she actually got into the bed, it seemed like it was made out of clouds, just pulling her into a softness, that she deep down really needed "It's okay," she called back at him, allowing herself one last look at him, before laying down. Her eyes closed and the exhaustion on her body took over, as she then fell asleep. Her dreams had been a good mix of Simon, but also the stranger, she could feel his hands on her neck and his breath on her skin as he'd talk to her. But as time went on, her sleep got more relaxed.
When night turned into day, she was still somewhat sleeping, even as Simon got up to make breakfast, it was actually only when she heard him talk, it broke that last piece of her sleeping, that in the end woke her up. She opened her eyes, as he sat down beside her on the bed, his hand that reached out to touch her forehead, which surprisingly didn't feel hotter than what was expected "Morning," her voice slightly husky from the night and still a bit hoarse from the incident. She found herself reaching up to gently take his hand in her own, her smile coming to her lips "I'm famished," she chuckled for a second and then moved her gaze to look at his hand, her fingers running across his palm. He had soft hands and warm too, she liked the feeling of them on her skin, of course not knowing the kind of effect her touch could have on him. Though she did let go when he talked about taking a shower "Gosh, I must look so horrible." She sat up in the bed, her hand running through her blonde hair, as she turned to look at him "I would love a shower, and after... maybe we could share breakfast together? I've never shared a breakfast with someone else before," her teeth played with her lower lip, as her eyes looked at him in hopes of him saying yes.

Feeling her take his hand, he felt a rush in his stomach. He wasn't sure what it was, but he couldn't get himself to remove his hand from hers. In fact he felt almost in a trance, and yet so awfully aware of what she was doing, how her fingers were caressing his hand and making him feel so strange yet good. He couldn't even move until she let go of him, and yet he felt the yearning for her touch once more. But despite that, having witnessed what he had yesterday, he couldn't act selfish. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as she spoke about looking horrible. "You look like you've slept well," he corrected her, smiling at her as he let her consider her options. The fact that she wanted a shower did not surprise him, though just thinking of her in the shower made his heart beat a little faster, "I'll find you a towel, then," he said, almost having to force his body to get up. He had of course noticed her brief mention of this being her first time having breakfast with someone, but he thought it would be better asked about once she had cleaned herself up a bit.
While Persephone was in the shower, he made sure to lay out some clothes that she could borrow, not only to wear in the apartment, but for the doctor's visit and the ride home. It was really nothing special; A green long sleeved top and some grey sweatpants that she could tie at the waist to keep them up. He tended to the small table, adjusting the cutlery a bit, maybe to calm his own nerves.

She got up from the bed and went to the bathroom, where she got ready for her shower. She did, however, stand for a few moments to look at her bruised face and the marks on her neck, which by now seemed almost fainted, due to the healing her species had. The shower itself had been fantastic, and she'd forgotten just how much she actually enjoyed taking them, it was much like when she'd been younger, not wanting to take a bath, but when after getting into the water, then refused to get out again. Though as she'd gotten older, it had become a way for her to relax, it did lead to some awkward meetings with her brother, which she still didn't know could be considered wrong, given how normal it was for her.
After the shower, she dried herself off and got the clothes on he'd given her, she couldn't remember ever having worn sweatpants, as it was not considered proper for a lady to wear such clothes. Though she did have to admit, that they were very comfortable, even if too big for her tiny frame, which meant she had to do a bit of work to get it to look better than before. Now dressed she joined Simon "It looks nice," she said with a tenderly smile gracing her lips. She was used to people making up the table for her, but not in this intimate way that Simon had done for her and maybe even himself. It made him even cuter in her eyes, she'd imagine spending her mornings with him, them eating breakfast together and talking about what they had to do for the day. In her daydreams, he would always be reading the newspaper and drinking tea, and she would sit in front of him with her own coffee.

As she joined him, he made sure that the hot items were indeed still warm, as well as the toast nice and crunchy. Her compliment made him scoff softly, not that he disagreed, but rather she seemed so grateful for everything he did, when he thought he could've done so much more. "Well I do hope you're as hungry as you said you were," he smiled at her. He was relaxed now that she was here. Was he perhaps anxious when she wasn't? He couldn't really tell himself, but he bottled it up to how he had seen her yesterday. The memory making the hairs on his neck stand up from how scary it had been. Gesturing for her to sit, he sat down across from her. There was coffee, tea and juice - and if she said she wanted something else he would get it for her. "Is it strange that perhaps that the thought of us sharing breakfast have never been far from my mind?" he asked. He sure felt odd about it. But in the best way possible. Perhaps it was because he had gotten to know her so well in their messages, how he had come to care deeply for a young woman he had never truly met. But now he had, and sitting here across from her felt almost surreal as he started to spread some butter on a nicely toasted piece of bread.
He poured himself a cup of coffee, as he needed the caffeine today after the night he had had, though he much more preferred the taste of tea. The silence between them didn't even feel awkward. No, it felt almost peaceful, like they didn't need to speak to enjoy one another's company. But he was going to break the silence once both of them at least had gotten to eat a bit. "I was thinking that the next time we see each other I would come and pick you up," he said, his lips pressed together in a polite smile as he didn't want to mention yesterdays happenings. And yet he wanted to assure her that he wanted to see her again. "I suppose your family won't be happy about you sneaking out, but twisting the narrative to your favor might be our best option," he said, as they might as well start plan what story to give her parents.

"You have no idea," already smelling the breakfast made her stomach growl, truly making itself known in the room. She did enjoy food, a lot more than people thought, though she wasn't always allowed to indulge in this, as her mother would either call her fat, her father would comment she'd never find a suitable husband if fat and her brother just raised an eyebrow and removed the food from her presence. It had always been expected that she should act like a lady and be a good wife for some man in the future, she both feared getting married, but at the same time wanted it. Maybe getting married meant getting away from her family, but it could also mean a life of misery.
Quickly she threw the sad thoughts away, as she sat down in front of him after he so sweetly gestured it to her. She made her coffee ready, as he spoke of his thoughts regarding them sharing breakfast, one she herself had also had "not at all, I myself had thought of it, though you often drink tea for some reasons when I imaged it." She chuckled to herself, and a small thought came to her mind, what if she would be lucky that her family saw Simon as a suitable mate for her, though she did not think he regarded her in that fashion, so as much as it would be cute to think this, it also hurt in a sense of the way.
Just as he was, she started making her own breakfast, getting eggs and toast, it felt quite intimate and warm, in a way she'd never experienced before. It was something as simple as breakfast, yet it was made more special because she was sharing it with Simon. She wasn't locked in her room, expected to be silent or to do what was told, she was in the actual company of someone else and she was enjoying herself. Her smile couldn't even stop showing up, as she buttered up her toast. Her gaze raised, as he suggested picking her up, the next time they should meet "I would love that very much," she sipped at her coffee, imagining what they would do next, maybe he would share more of his poetry with her, or maybe even show her the Opera, which she'd sadly not seen yet.
As soon as he mentioned her family, she got quiet for a moment, her gaze more serious and she nodded "that would be a good idea." She didn't want to discuss her family, yet it was probably for the best.

A small chuckled followed by a subtle, "well," as he felt like she had hit pretty spot on. It truly felt like she knew everything about him simply from looking at him. Like he was an open book that she could so easily read with those big doe eyes. He envied the innocence in her gaze, he could see she was clearly unaware of the effect she was having on him. And yet, all he could really do was smile, tend to his breakfast and eat a couple of mouthfuls of toast as she grew silent from his mention. "Do you see me as a villain?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. Did she really think that he wanted to just give her back when he had heard more than enough through her messages? No, if he had the power within him to steal her away and give her a chance at a good life, he would, but sadly he was too hung up on his own family dysfunction.
Placing his butter knife down beside the plate, he looked at his cup of coffee for a short while before turning his blue green eyes to her. "I'm sorry, I just wish there was something I could do beside write you and meet you in secret," he spoke rather honestly, feeling his heart ache for her. She was a kind soul, nobody could deny it, and yet it seemed as if the whole world was truly against her. He rested his hand on the table between them, a heavy frown on his brow as he looked at her. Actions spoke louder than words, or that was how the saying went, so why was he such a coward? Why did he insist on using only words? Perhaps because he was a dreamer, one who wished that ones hopes and wishes would come true. And he hoped for her happiness, dreamt of a day when they didn't have to hide the friendship they had nurtured. "And I guess today we will take the first steps out of secrecy together, create a foundation that hopefully your family might approve of so that we can see each other more candidly," the corners of his mouth pulling upwards in a more hopeful smile.

She was sipping her coffee, adding a bit more milk, only looking up at him with his sudden question. It was a strange one, and she didn't understand the connection between what she herself had said, and then suddenly painting him as a villain. Confusion even reached her blue gaze, as she placed her mug down, to more understand how he made that kind of result from what she'd said to him. While she wasn't too happy about talking about her family, she'd expressed his idea was probably for the best. Maybe she was the one who was confused about something or had misunderstood what had been said.
Though not commenting on the villain question, she was a lot more focused on what he was saying, as he explained his thoughts. She liked hearing him talk and liked listening in on his thought processes, there were at times something almost philosophical about it. For a second her gaze fell to his hand, and she was tempted to reach out, if only to touch his hand softly and yet she didn't "I am sorry if my words made you think I viewed you as a villain, I do not," she frowned for a moment, finding her words "It is not that your idea was bad, it's just I wish not to ruin this moment with talks of my family, I wish to enjoy my moment with you before reality has to come back." Her hand reached up, softly playing with locks of her blonde hair, as she so often did when nervous "But you are right, I also want us not to met in secrets, that I may enjoy your company in daytimes and on other platforms than text because I have enjoyed this little time with you, as we've shared here today," her smile became more tender before she then continued, "You matter to me, in ways I would never be able to find words to describe, and it would sadden me if we'd never talk again, so I would do it for you." For him she would talk to her family, even if it scared her. She'd often been described as well-spoken, maybe even a bit posh in choice of words, yet she was very well at articulating her thoughts and opinions, even if she didn't do it that often.

So he was not a villain. A relief to say the least, but as she went on to describe how she felt about all of this, not only the situation they were in now, but what she feared was something he listened to quite intently. The way she spoke wasn't far from how she wrote, but hearing her voice and how she articulated every sound made him feel his heart beating slightly faster. Hearing how he mattered to her touched him in a way he hadn't felt before. Had he actually made an impression on her? And yet he could not find any traces of lies or manipulation in her words nor expression. "Well then ... I suppose we are on the same side," he chuckled, smiling at her, seeing how her finger slowly wrapped around the golden lock it had picked out to twirl. While he was not one to stare, he couldn't help but take her in as she was right now. Happiness in her eyes and yet he felt like she was far too grateful for something this simple. If this was all it took, he wondered how she would react to grander expressions of adoration towards her.
He resumed eating, and once he had finished his cup of coffee he switched over to get just half a cup of tea. It wouldn't be a real morning without that flavor on his tongue. "Though we have imminent doom looming over us, I don't want it to ruin our day," he said after a bit of silence. It was clear he had an idea, a small mischievous glimmer in his eyes as he looked at her. "I promised to take you to a doctor, but after that I would love to bring you to the opera - Seeing as we got interrupted yesterday," he was going to pull a few strings, that was for sure, but he also had truly looked forward to showing her the place and then the performance."I know the troupe who is running rehearsals today, and while it won't be a fully fletched show, perhaps it can ease you in to the world that I've tried describing to you?" It was an idea for sure, and while he knew he had the duties of returning her safely, he also felt obligated to stay true to his words. He had promised to spend time with her, to talk and be near one another in a way they couldn't over the messages.

The second he switched over to tea, it almost fit that image in her head, which she'd imagined those nights alone, hoping that one day that would happen. It was much like with her novels, how she would imagine herself to be the heroine of those tales. She didn't share this fact with him though, fearing he would find her to be a fool, but how she at this moment wished to be able to read his mind, know how he felt about her. She pushed it away, in favour of just taking at the moment, enjoying every second of something that is quite mundane for everyone else, but a pleasure for her, until she then had to get home.
She chuckled sweetly "I wish not to ruin it either, with too many thoughts of this imminent doom we face," she mirrored his own words, with the same glimmer in her eyes and the teasing smile on her lips, though she did very much mean it. If possible, she would completely forget about her parents and forget about the chaos that would be, when she evidently had to go home. She emptied her cup of coffee, just as he talked about taking her to the opera, after the visit to the doctors, making her smile even grander than before. After all that had been the plan the day before, if not for a bit of trouble, that was beyond that of their abilities "I would love to see it, I do have to change though, I wanna look my best when you're gonna show it to me. Even a rehearsal is a show, and one must look good at the opera." And maybe she also wanted him to think she was beautiful, besides the fact about looking one's best when visiting the opera.
She felt like a bit of an idiot, how she almost felt she was swooning over his words and his acts of kindness, her naive mind comparing it to these grand gestures in her books. But with a lack of experience and knowledge of what was considered normal among friends and her growing crush on Simon, it would be strange if she didn't at least make some kinds of screw-ups along the way, to learn these things. She just hoped that it wouldn't break her heart completely when he would evidently and probably turn her down for someone better.