I never knew that small things like the soft yellow hues of the bedside lamp that light the bedroom and the sound of a running shower in the far distance -under which Hero is standing right now- could feel as soothing as they do at this moment. It is just simple things, but I'm sure that these things make a home. The familiarity in the fact that the sounds you hear, are the sounds you know and recognize must be a fundamental thing in feeling at home somewhere.

Hero's bed is soft and warm, and because my skin is still burning slightly and my limbs are still tingling, it feels as if I'm in heaven. With red hot cheeks and while my breathing is still not fully back to normal, I wait for him to join me in his bed, and I can't help but let my thoughts wander back to what happened a few minutes ago.

I had no idea. I was so clueless, it's almost comical now. I had no idea that I was capable of giving myself something like that. Without Hero, I would've never even thought about the possibility, but he showed me, and even though my thoughts are extremely conflicted whether this right or wrong, I can't deny that now that I've had a taste, I'm curious about the other possibilities.

I'm still shocked that my body can react like that. I knew men could; I've witnessed that more times than I would've ever wished. But for women -for me- to have a release like that, it's mind-blowing.

And because they never gave me that, it somehow doesn't remind me of what happened to me. They never gently touched me; they were always rough. It was never -never- about me and always about them. Sometimes I even doubt it was about them too, given the fact that Leonard was always watching. They did what he liked, and the only goal for him was to hurt me. To put me on the edge of death, and then slowly pull me back in torture just to let me know that he had the power.

Power. Power and control. It's been the main thing I fought against when I lived with him. He had all the power and control, and there were times that I thought it was normal because I didn't know anything else.

And then there was Hero. And he never uses power against me. He never tries to control the things I do or say. And after what we shared on the couch just moments ago, it finally starts to dawn on me why I allow Hero to come this close. Why I crave his touch even though my mind says I shouldn't.

It's because his touch can't be compared to theirs. Hero's words and actions are gentle and for me. He doesn't get off on causing me pain, and therefore his touch never brings me back to that filthy mattress and all the things that happened on it.

He shows me something completely new, and although it could never erase what happened to me, I'm starting to believe that if he keeps his patience and doesn't lose me in the chaos we will no doubt face, he can heal me.

"She's so cute when she's sleeping." Hero's voice disturbs my thoughts, and when I look in his direction, he just closes the door behind him. He's wearing dark blue boxers, and his hair is still wet. When he turns around so he faces me completely, I see that a few wet strands of hair are sticking to his forehead. His cheeks are red, no doubt as a result of his warm shower, and an endeared smile lights his face.

"Daisy?" I ask, distracted by his appearance. It reminds me of that time I walked into his room while he was naked, and a very small part of me wishes he was wearing just a towel -or less- now. It must be because I'm still not over what we shared.

"Yeah." He smiles while he steps into bed next to me. "I checked on her just now. I've missed her."

He lays next to me on his side, his face towards me. He keeps a proper distance between us but his hand does grab mine so we are holding hands.

I squeeze his hand. "I'm sure she's missed you too."

He smiles, his eyes flickering to my mouth very quickly before he says, "I have a phone for you."

I frown at the unexpected and abrupt switch in conversation. "A phone?"

"Yeah." He smirks and then squeezes my hand while he shakes his head. "And before you start a tantrum about how I can't buy you things anymore, I didn't. It's Mercy's old one. That's why I went to my mum's before work."

"Hero, I-"

"It's for my own selfish reasons, you know," he continues, ignoring me with a smirk on his face. "I hated the idea of leaving you two and I figured that if you have a phone, we can text and you can send me pictures. Of you and Dais."

"But won't Mercy need it when her new phone breaks?" I lamely ask. I know that he won't budge in this, and to be honest, I quite like the idea of keeping in contact with him while he is at work.

"No. Mum and her have at least five phones extra. We get new ones every year." He slides his head forward so our noses are touching, and all the heated feelings that I felt moments ago return in full force. Will it always be like this now that I know what these feelings can lead to?

"It's not only for me to text you," he continues, mistaking my silence for doubt about taking the phone while I'm actually thinking about something completely different. "It's also for safety. If you need help when you're alone, for whatever reason, you can get into contact with people. It didn't sit well with me that I left you and Dais alone today, knowing that you couldn't reach out to someone if needed to."

My thoughts slowly drift to what he is saying, and all I can do is conclude that he is right. It actually surprises me that I didn't think of that myself. I'm so used to not having contact with anyone, I didn't even know about the possibilities of calling someone. "Okay, thank you."

A huge grin spreads across his face, and he rubs his nose across mine once again. "You're very welcome, love. I'll show you how it works tomorrow, yeah?"

I nod and without overthinking, I snuggle against him a little more so our fronts are pressed together. And he immediately pulls his hand from mine so he can wrap his arm around my waist.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, his voice not harder than a low whisper.

I wish I could answer him, but I still haven't processed all the feelings that rush through me right now. I feel flushed, tensed but at the same time completely content, warm, shaky. It's all there.

"Different," I settle on, and his green eyes glimmer at my answer.

"You look different, too." His hand slides up and down my back, stopping just above the curve of my behind and then trailing up to my shoulder blades. It makes me shiver. "Beautiful," he murmurs.

If my cheeks could heat up any more than they already were as a result of all the events, they would because of his compliment. "I really didn't know I could feel things like that."

"There's so much more, Jo. You have no idea," he tells me while he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "It won't ever be like what they did to you. I promise. I'll make sure you will never feel like that again. You will only feel what you felt today, I swear."

"I know." And I do. I know.

He nods, a relieved breath falling from his lips. And for a moment I think that he wants to say something else. But he doesn't. His eyes go over my face instead, and then he determinedly pushes his mouth onto mine.

And while the new heated feeling spreads through my veins once more, he pulls me back into that familiar dreamingly situation, where the lazy kisses and gentle touches give me that unmistakenly feeling of safety.

"I envy the way she is knocked out after a feeding," Hero mumbles while his nose nuzzles in her soft hairs, his lips sliding over her head too as she lays across his chest.

She's asleep, her cheek laying on his bare chest. Her arms and legs are stretched out like a star, and she is drooling a bit, but Hero doesn't seem to notice how it hits his skin. His hand is covering her entire back, reminding me of how small she still is even though she did grow over the last weeks.

"As if eating is the most important thing in the world?" I smile, my eyes going over them intently, trying my best to soak up every little detail.

I'm laying next to them on my side. They are within reach, but I don't reach out to touch them. Somehow, the sight of them is too beautiful to change, even by my own hand.

It's almost seven in the morning, and Daisy woke us up thirty minutes ago because she was hungry. She had quite a rough few hours; her cramps were bothering her almost the entire night and therefore, Hero and I hardly slept as well. It's the reason we are staying in bed for a bit now, and Daisy finally seems okay with that.

"Yeah," Hero chuckles before kissing her head again. "We should make this a tradition."

I lift my head a little so I can look at him a little better. "What?"

"This." He nods his head to Daisy and then to me. "Us. Every morning like this. Cuddled up in bed."

"I know she would love that." And me too.

"Yeah, me too," he lazily responds, letting out a content breath right after. As a result, Daisy moves along with his chest.

For a moment we fall into a comfortable silence. I hear Hero's steady breathing and Daisy ever so often hiccups or sobs even though she didn't cry. The sound oozes rest, and I can't help but close my eyes and just enjoy.

The scent of Hero's sheets has changed. At first, they smelled solely like Hero. Every time I stepped in, his scent consumed me, and soon it became connected to the feeling of safety. But now, as I bury my nose in the duvet and inhale, I smell us. It's a combination of me and him, and it smells even better.

"I was thinking," Hero eventually whispers, forcing me to open my eyes again. "Would you like to have dinner at my mum's tonight? I have a shift again, and I thought that you might like to have some company. Merc is there too."

He isn't looking at me, his focus seems on Daisy still, but somehow I feel his hope. I hear it laced in his proposal as well.

"Won't your mom mind?" I ask him, even though I know his answer already.

And indeed, he shakes his head, not even needing a second to think about my question. "No. She asked me to ask you yesterday. They love you, Jo. They love having you and Dais over."

My chest swells, asking myself once again how I got this lucky. His family has been nothing but welcoming, and it's overwhelming. They don't even know us, but that doesn't stop them.

"I think I'd like that."

"Great." His broad smile tells me just how much he means that. "She'll come pick you up with the car. I can't bring you because I go on my bike."

"Okay. If that isn't too much trouble for her," I counter, just to make sure but he shakes his head again.

"Never, Jo. Trust me." He then sticks his arm out towards me. "Come here."

I scoot closer, laying my head on the upper part of his outstretched arm. He then pulls me closer, so my head slides onto his shoulder and my front is pressed against his side.

"You comfortable?" He mumbles, his head now turned so his lips are pressed against my forehead.

"Yes." And it's all because of him. Because of him and the little girl that's lying across his chest. Their scents, their steady breathing that relax me to the bone, and how they look at this very moment.

"Me too." He kisses my forehead and pulls me against him even closer. "Don't ever leave, Jo. Promise me you'll never leave."

I never want to leave. I want to make this a tradition, just like he suggested moments ago. And even though I slightly doubt if Hero understands what it means to have us forever, I only want to tell him yes. And somehow that is enough for me to forget everything else right now.

"I promise. We won't leave."

"Oh, I swear she is the cutest, Jo!" Mercy says for the tenth time, and I can't help but giggle as I see that Martha playfully rolls her eyes at her daughter's high-pitched voice.

Mercy is sitting on the sofa, her feet resting on the coffee table and therefore her knees bend. Daisy's laying on her upper legs, and since she just drank she is awake. She is looking at Mercy with wide eyes, no doubt because Mercy is talking in a high voice and is making a lot of movements with her hands.

"She's a very easy baby, isn't she?" Martha asks, eyeing Daisy for a moment.

"As long as she's getting all the attention," I chuckle. "Last night she was a bit of a terror, to be honest. She had cramps, and Hero and I were up for hours."

They both laugh, and Mercy even gives Daisy a high-five which makes me giggle. Martha is sitting next to Mercy, and I'm sitting on one of the chairs. And I feel completely at ease as I look at them. There isn't a trace of need to protect Daisy or to hold her myself. I know they would never hurt her, and where I first found it a bit nerve-wracking to give her to people I don't really know, I now am happy that they want to hold her.

I trust them, and I know they want all the best for both Daisy and me.

"I think I'm going to start making dinner," Mercy pipes up after kissing Daisy's hand. She then gives Daisy to Martha, and I don't miss how she first looks at me questioningly. I just smile and give her a small nod.

When Mercy has left the living room and Martha has moves Daisy so she's holding her in her arms, she turns so she is facing me completely. "And how are you, Josephine? Have you had the chance to properly settle in at Hero's place?"

Her expression is friendly and I can tell she is genuinely interested. Since she picked me up two hours ago, we've only had some small talk, and it mostly was about Daisy. I like that she waited to ask about me until now, even though I love talking to Mercy as well.

"I have. It's becoming our home more and more." I nod in Daisy's direction so she knows we're both very comfortable at Hero's place. I know Daisy is too, even though she is still small. She must recognize the smells and sounds by now.

Martha nods knowingly, the smile on her face reminding me of Hero's; she has dimples too, although they aren't as pronounced as the ones of her son. "You should've seen Hero the day he knew you and Daisy would stay with him. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. We helped him, but he was the one that told us what to do. He had it all figured out."

For some reason, my cheeks heat up at her comment. I knew that Hero had made sure everything was ready for us, but hearing it like this from his mother somehow makes me feel even more special. "He still makes sure that we have everything we need. Sometimes I think it's too much."

"I'm not surprised. Hero has always been very caring." She smiles proudly while moving her hand over Daisy's hair. "And I know for a fact that you're giving him a lot in return. He loves having you and Daisy around."

I smile, my eyes focussed on Daisy. For some reason, I find it difficult to look at her while she tells me this.

"How's therapy going? Does it help you?" She changes the subject, and I can't hide the surprise that her question calls in me. How does she know that I have therapy? Did I tell her that? "Hero told me you're having therapy every day," Martha explains, no doubt because she sees my confused and surprised expression. "I hope you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, no," I tell her honestly. "I don't. I just didn't expect the question. Therapy is good. I like my therapist. She's very kind."

'That's good." Martha smiles, her eyes scanning my face. "I hope she helps you, Jo. I truly do."

"Me too," I mumble. I blow out a breath and look at Martha, who has now turned her attention back on Daisy in her arms. "We've talked about pressing charges," I then add, and once Martha lifts her head once more. "She thinks that the only way for me to go up is to take control. And to do that, one of the things that could help me is talking to the police and tell them what happened to me."

"And what do you think about that?" Martha counters with ease.

I shrug and pull my legs up the chair. "It makes sense when she says it, but the thought scares me. What happened to me, it's... It's a lot. And I don't feel like it's something that everyone should know. I don't want everyone to know what happened to me."

Martha nods knowingly. "Of course, you don't."

My eyes widen and suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Does she know? Did Hero tell her and is that why she is reacting this knowingly?

"Don't worry, honey," Martha reassures me the moment the thought crash into my mind, reading me perfectly yet again. "Hero didn't tell me anything. I can only imagine what you've been through. Maybe a little better than others because I think we share some things."

I frown, not completely understanding what she means. Was she kept somewhere too?

Before I have the chance to ask her though, Martha already continues, her voice steady while her finger is now stroking Daisy's hand.

"When I was sixteen, I had my first boyfriend. He was twenty, and while my parents weren't keen on the idea, he was a very sweet guy. A little young for his age, which I think was the reason why we connected the way we did. We had a lot of things in common, and we would talk for hours."

A small smile forms her lips. The memories seem to make her smile, and it's exactly why I have no idea where she is going with this. Either she thinks something entirely different happened to me, or her story is going to take a drastic turn.

"He still lived with his parents and he worked full time in the local pub. His parents were kind; they welcomed me with open arms and I stayed over for dinner nearly every weekend. I was sixteen and in love; it all seemed perfect. It was perfect."

She starts to sway Daisy from left to right, even though she isn't crying. She's falling asleep, but Martha seems to need the movement to continue.

"He also had an older brother that had his own house already. I'd never met him, but on my boyfriend's birthday, he came home to celebrate. He was twenty-four, and at first, he was nice to me, just normally nice. We didn't speak much; during dinner, he showed a little interest just to be polite, but he talked more with his father."

Martha lifts her head, and only then do I see that her eyes are slightly glossy. She also takes a deep tug of air before she continues. "After dinner, I excused myself to go to the restroom. The one downstairs was occupied though, so I went to the one on the first floor. I felt at home there, so I did it without thinking."

A soft sob forces its way out but Martha ignores it. "When I was done and opened the door, his brother was standing in the hallway. I greeted him, thinking that he was waiting to use the restroom as well, but the moment I stepped aside to let him in, he grabbed me."

And suddenly I realize where this is going. It's shocking and completely unexpected, and before I overthink it, I've moved to the sofa. "Martha, I'm sorry." It's the first thing that comes to mind, but she shakes her head before taking another deep breath.

"Shh. I'm fine," she insists. "He... He dragged me to my boyfriend's room, and he raped me. It was rather quick, I assume, although I have no idea how long it took. I've always thought it wasn't that long, because nobody came looking for us, not even my boyfriend."