Instead, he watched her fidget with her hands, bunching the sheets in her fists to then smooth them out just to repeat the motion.

And he knows why she did it. She worried.


"I didn't mean to be disrespectful by coming here. I just heard you and..."

Fanny shook her head, interrupting Michel. She doesn't want to tell him how she feels, somehow she doesn't think he deserves it.

Though, she feels that her normal manners would want to thank him for what he did last night.


He helped her.

However, her anger towards him is too great to give in to the impulse to let him know.


Fanny doesn't want him to get excited because he has that kind of power over her. So she kept quiet. It's really strange.

Fanny knew exactly that what she saw yesterday wasn't real, but that was just hindsight.

At that moment, she was convinced that she was back in that basement with Mr. Aiden and the constant torture.

But for some reason, Michel was there suddenly and she couldn't deny the fact that his presence helped her through the night.

Yes, she hates him. Just knowing absolutely about having him close filled her with fury.

But strangely enough, he himself was there to calm her uncontrollable fear. And that's what she would choose over pain any day of the week.

"You really wouldn't consider any measures..."

"Are not."

Silence stretched between them. All she wants is to give in to the urge to sleep. She felt exhausted and being around everyone was a challenge today.

However, fear... it was fear that made her sit up straight, resisting the need to close her eyes.

Looking back at Michel again, she noticed that he was now sitting back in that armchair just like he had the night before.

Fanny knew that was where he spent many early morning hours, watching over her and comforting her every time she saw something.

Maybe...

Keeping his gaze expectant, she released her chewing lower lip and took a steady breath, hoping that he would understand what she was implying.

"I'm tired, though..." Fanny said softly.

And Michel did. He really understood.

She doesn't want to ask him, but he knows what she needs.

"You... do you want me to stay? I can just... sit here... like I did last night?"

Fanny did not answer. However, she just teleported and slowly crawled under the sheets, lowering her head as if what he said was her cue to finally relax.

Michel watched her as her fingers clung to the edge of the pillow, her eyes resisting for a moment but then losing the battle to sleep, allowing her lashes to glide across her cheekbones in the beautiful way he always favorite.

---

Just two hours later, Michel was startled awake by heavy breathing and crying.

He fell asleep in the chair, so forcing him to open his eyes, he sat up again and found Fanny snuggled against the headboard, her arm wrapped around the knee she had pulled up to her chest as her fingers gripped the bed sheet as if her life depended on it.

Michel swallowed thick saliva against the dryness in his throat and slowly stood up.

"Fanny?"

"Shut up. He can hear us..." She warned, her eyes filled with fear as her chest rose and fell from the shallow breaths she was taking in.

She is having a panic attack.

"Fanny, he's not here..." Michel tried to reassure her, taking a small step toward the bed to show her his intentions.

"What?"

Michel shook his head. "Just me and you here..."

When he found her unconvinced, he quickly tried to think of another approach.

What did he do to comfort her the night before?

Recalling his moves, he came to the conclusion that it played with whatever she was going through.

If he can cut into her story, then he'll probably be more likely to convince her that there's no imminent threat anywhere.

'Listen…" Michel began, taking a careful step toward the bed, seeing her watching him approach made her cringe a little.

"It's really just you and me right now. But I have a gun. I can kill him in case he shows up." He told her.

He wasn't exactly wearing his holster at the time, but he really hoped that she believed him.

And to his surprise, her expression changed slightly.

"Do you have a gun?" Fanny asked, breathing still ragged.

Michel nodded.

"I'll kill him, okay? He'll never come near you..."

Clearly relaxed, he looked at her and then inched to the side of the bed, creating space.

"Okay... but you have to stay here and watch."

Before the statement, Michel's heart skipped a beat as he sadly pondered whether she was aware of what she was asking for at that moment.

He really wished she did...

Unable to speak, he nodded again and walked over to her, carefully sliding under the bed sheet beside her as she slowly lay down again, keeping her back to him.

"You..."

"Huh?"

"Do you really have a gun?" Fanny asked again, her voice calmer now, but still uncertain for some reason.

Since she couldn't see him, Michel licked his dry lips and pulled him together.

He knows she is desperate for this reassurance and he will tell her as many times as she needs to to make her feel comfortable.

"Yes, I have it right here."

"Okay..."

There was a long pause again where Michel thought she had fallen asleep.

That was until she spoke again, this time her voice was no louder than a mere whisper.

"I still hate you, you know..."

Pressing his lips together as he felt the pain rip through his chest, he rested his head on the headboard and stared at the ceiling.

"I know..." Michel whispered back.

"But do you have a gun?"

Michel suddenly felt choked, the emotion suddenly so present that it was almost impossible for him to give her an answer.

"Yes, Fanny. I have it right here." Michel repeated his previous words.