Prompt: "don't lie to me."

WARNING: Implications of previous physical abuse. Take care when reading this *hearts*

"Don't lie to me!"

His words echoed through your mind. You flinched each time you recalled it. Tears pricked at your eyes and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You never lied. Not once. Not even when he scared you. You always told the truth, yet he never believed you. You let out a shaky exhale. Love. What was it? Certainly not what you thought you had. One too many times you let him fool you.

You tucked your knees in closer to you, thankful you were wearing jeans. You sat on the curb, your bag strapped over your shoulder, with nowhere to go. You crossed the country for him. You left your life behind for him. All for nothing. All for pain and turmoil. Stuck in some derelict small down. On the border of Mexico and the United States. Maybe you could run away to another country. Be a new person. Leave whoever this person you were today, behind forever. You stretched your fingers out in front of you, feeling the strain and pull of the muscles there. They hurt.

Goosebumps rippled over your arms and you felt as if someone was watching you. You peeked around, sure to keep your hair in your face to make yourself less obvious. There was no point, however, because when you looked up there was a man across the street, staring at you. Unblinkingly. Unyielding.

You hid, curling in on yourself. You weren't supposed to be calling attention to yourself. You didn't want anyone to find out. Not now. Not when you still didn't know what to do. You wrapped your arms around your knees and tugged them in closer, keeping yourself small. Safe.

You clenched your fists, keeping the tremors at bay.

"Don't lie to me!"

Those words crept back in as the man crossed to stand in front of you. The cigarette moving from his mouth to between his fingers. You shivered, afraid. You watched as he flicked the ashes away from the smoke. When his arm moved forward, in your direction, you visibly filched. Cowering to the side, hiding your face.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he pulled back. Unsure of himself. As if he hadn't meant to scare you. He lifted the smoke to his mouth, inhaling deeply and then after a moment, exhaling a cloud. He stayed still, close by. He was letting you acclimatize to him. As if he sensed you needed the time to do this on your own. That you needed to approach him and not the other way around.

"Where is he?"

The man's voice came out low and raw. You weren't expecting it. He sounded angry. Angry on your behalf. You kept your back to him, staring down at the ground next to you. How could you explain all the horrible choices you made that led you to this moment? All to a stranger?

You chanced a glance at him over your turned in shoulder. He was standing stock still but you tracked the movements of his eyes. He was noting each place where there was an obvious abrasion, a bruise.

You curled your hands back into fists and slowly, turned to face this new man. One that was completely opposite from everything you knew. Based on his looks alone. He held out his hand, palm down. Letting you make the decision to take it. Not assuming anything. He was terrifying. Dark and looming, yet you felt a kindred energy in his posture.

Broken but healing.

Maybe you were in shock. Maybe you needed someone to talk too. Maybe you were so far gone that you didn't care. Whatever it was, you unclenched your hands and flipped your palms up for him to see. The dark red stains all along the lines in your hands.

"Shit."

You heard him swear as you both stared at the caked blood on your hands. You swallowed. You didn't know what to do, or where to go. All you knew was that you he would never accuse you of lying again. It was over for good. He couldn't hurt you, or anyone else. Not again. Never.

"Come."

The man said. It wasn't a question, but not a demand either. Again, giving you the option to make the decision on your own. You met his eyes, somehow, someway feeling safe in his presence. You didn't know him. He didn't know you. Yet here he was, helping you.

I need you now, but I don't know you yet. The thought crossed your mind. Pleading. Whoever he was, crossed your path in the exact right moment. You nodded your head and reached for his hand. He grasped yours, strong and gentle and helped you stand. Your lips trembled at the care he was taking. Something you weren't sure anyone had ever done for you.

He led you across the street, while you followed close by his side. He approached a motorcycle and grabbed a rag, handing it over to you. You accepted it and wiped down your hands. Scrubbing as much of the dried substance off.

"It was an accident." You admitted, your voice small and quiet. A tiny quiver running through it.

He shrugged and nodded. No judgement. As if you didn't need to say anything at all. Tears pricked at your eyes when you met his hard gaze again. You could see that your tears scared him and that was comforting in a strange way. You wiped the tears away, and feeding off his own energy, you steeled your resolve and stood next to him. You weren't sure why, but you sensed that you didn't need to be scared of him. Other people were, and you could tell, but not you. Not here. Not now.

"Thank you."

You held the rag out back to him and he accepted it, folding it into one of his pockets. A wave of relief went through you. Solidarity in a stranger. There weren't enough words in the dictionary to help you express how much his quiet acceptance meant to you. A new beginning. That's what he was offering. However, that looked. He was moving you forward. No dwelling and that was more than you ever expected or could've asked for.