Dennis is quiet. He doesn't talk and act friendly. He says whats on his mind. He is stern and harsh. He is hard to please, I know I have to in order to get him to do what I want. I have to make him think I like him. I heard Dennis talking to himself in his room. He was a floor below me. It was bedtime now. I just sit in my room until he tells me to clean or Hedwig wants to play, or I want something. I heard Dennis talking to himself then something about getting ready for bed. Everything was muffled. I decided now I might as well throw in the towel and give it my all.

I made my way down a floor. I saw a dim light from under Dennis's door. I walked to it. I debated on knocking. I chose not to. I opened the door and Dennis was in pajamas and turning down the blankets so he could get in.

"What do you need?" He asked stopping what he was doing and standing up straight. he watched me curiously.

"I didn't want to sleep alone." I said and stepped inside. I closed his bedroom door behind me and locked it. A small act of faith that I won't need to get out in a hurry.

"You want to sleep with me?" He asked surprised a bit but his face doesn't exactly changed emotions much. I nodded.

"Yes." I said and looked down. "My shirt is dirty." I said and slipped it off. "So are my pants" I and took them off. I set them in Dennis's hamper. He stared at me. Oh shit I can't believe I am doing this. I had on a white bra and white undies. I stood there facing him self conscious of my body. I had my arm slid around my belly. I slid my other arm over my chest a bit. I stood there and he stared. "Well... do you want me or no?" I asked with zero confidence. I was so uncomfortable.

"Yes." he said and stood there longer. He finally moved over to me and picked me up like I was a feather. He tossed me onto the bed and stood there and looked at me. I rested up on my elbows.

"What?" I asked.

"Perfect." He got over me and just touched my scars. "Beautiful. You're amazing." he said touching every inch of me that was bruised or scared or flawed before touching the rest of me. In reality all of me is scared and broken.

I sat up on my legs, he was on his knees. I reached up and started to unbutton his pajama shirt. It even matched his pants. His shirt came off. His chest was scared and still wounded from where I shot him. I never realized before all of his scars. The one on his arms and chest. I already saw the ones on his hand

I reached out to touch the ones on his chest. The bullet wounds were like scratches and scraped, they weren't deep. It was actually amazing. What was he. His big hands reached up to the side of my head and pulled me close for a kiss. It was sloppy and rough. He was harsh and aggressive. Not soft and passionate like I'd like, but I'll be okay.