Webfic
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Chapter 9

Once she unbuttoned her pajama blouse, the two gruesome gashes before her chest were clearly visible! "It was my second year in high school. A girl from my class lured me to a storage shed, and I was surprised to see that the boy I respected most was there waiting. He kept advancing at me… I was so scared that I took out my palette knife and stabbed myself. "He kept coming, so I stabbed myself again—deeper this time—and it almost reached my heart and killed myself. He ran after that… I guess more than lust, he feared carrying the burden of taking a life." Iris spoke calmly as if she had not been hurt by the incident. Eventually, she undid the last button and her blouse fell off. Thomas saw the jagged, uneven scars on the fair skin over her back right then! "This… this was because a boy in my class liked me, and the girl who liked him pushed me off the stairs. And there were glass shards that just 'happened' to be on the bottom. I was supposed to be disfigured, but I sensed danger and turned, so my back hit the floor first." She looked up to find the impassive look in Thomas' eyes. She jitterily continued, "I survived as much as I was hurt, Thomas—it was that way in school, and things would get worse now that I've graduated. I know that you want me whatever the reason may be, and I want your protection. My body is pure and it's yours to take, but you have to give me time. I'm so repulsed by sexual matters now, and it's almost innate." Josh made her feel fear again that was second only to Thomas, and she refused to let herself be caught in the rivalry between two men—the only choice was to bet on either of them. In that case, Thomas was the ideal choice because he was the head of the Franklin estate who had the power to inspire fear among those who coveted her, including Josh. As such, she pleaded gingerly, "Can you give me time? Let me slowly get used to you. Honestly, after what happened in the hallway that day, I scrubbed my skin so hard that I was almost bleeding, and I was puking my guts out." Thomas glowered and took her chin as he demanded coolly, "What about now?" "I still get sick," Iris admitted. "No vomiting, but I just don't like it." He kissed her fiercely then and pulled away a while later, his eyes cool as he stared at her. He immediately saw that she was getting sick, and her gaze was flickering—but she tamely stayed put. "Lie down," he growled. She slid under the blanket at his words and watched as Thomas entered the bathroom, listening to the sound of the shower as she fell asleep. Thomas emerged over twenty minutes later in a black bathrobe and found her hidden beneath the blanket without poking her head out. He picked up his phone and left the room, heading to the empty study to dial a number. "Mike." "Tom—it's been a while. To think that you'd actually call me!" a guy uttered on the other end. Thomas then told him about what Iris said. In reality, everything she said was already in her file—which also included everything she did not say. After he was done, Mike stayed silent for a long while before saying, "It seems that she suffers from extensive childhood trauma. It's a terrible psychological issue and basically impossible to treat—some patients try to pretend to be normal, but there would always be some stimulus that would inevitably ruin their pretense. I can say for sure that she lacks libido." When the conversation ended and Thomas hung up, he became pensive. He lit a cigarette, allowing the smoke to swirl around him as he leveled a thousand-yard stare on a painting over the wall of the study. It was a portrait of a long-haired woman from the back, dressed in a white dress. Her face was identical to Iris', but the drawing was dated fourteen years ago. - The next day, Iris woke up to find her in her own room. She had vaguely felt someone carrying her last night and thought that it was Thomas taking her back to her room when it was time. She took out her phone to see a text from Ida. [I'm sorry, Iri, but I left a document on my bedside cabinet. Please bring it over to my office when you wake up.] Iris quickly got out of bed and groomed herself before heading to her aunt's room. She knocked first and soon heard the door open. "Oh. Good morning, Iri," Sean greeted her mildly. Iris took a step back, saying, "Uncle Sean, I came to get Aunt Ida's document." "I know," Sean replied. "I was just going out by myself. I'll send you there." Iris did a double take but quickly said, "In that case, you can deliver it to her. I have something else to do…" "Actually, Ida wants you to get something from her too. You have to be there." She could not refuse at that point and headed to Sean's car with him, taking the backseat instead of riding shotgun. It was just her and Sean as he drove in silence, and she still shifted behind his seat to hide. Staring at her from the rearview mirror for a while, Sean eventually stopped the car by the road and told her, "Come up here, Iri." Iris stared at him warily, her fingers clenching over her phone—a habit she developed over the years. Sean sighed feebly. "Iri, we're family." Even so, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Uncle Sean. Please keep driving." It hurt to see her being so wary. He drove again, but he suddenly turned the car at a junction and stopped the car again. Iris stiffened, and Sean could see it. Even so, he alighted and opened the door, saying, "It was raining the first time I met you. You were hiding under the shed of an ATM, and you were wet from head to toe." Iris looked up in shock—she would never forget that. They did not know each other back then, but he never tried anything funny. Instead, he took her straight to the hospital, even paid all her bills, and quietly left afterward. "Yes, I remember." "If I were going to hurt you, I would have done that three years ago," Sean added mildly, clearly sensing Iris relax. "From my perspective, you're a child like any other who needs to be sheltered as you grow. I was quite surprised to see you again after I met your aunt, and I'll keep protecting you as your elder. Do you understand?" Iris' eyes welled up with tears. She felt Sean's kindness, but she could never let down her guard toward anyone. "I… Uncle Sean, I…" She started fumbling for her words. Sean smiled. "It's alright—take your time to get used to this. You can treat me as a friend or a family. Come to me if you have problems, but don't refuse my goodwill, alright?" He then took out a watch, and Iris saw that it was the same one Thomas threw away. As she looked at him in surprise, Sean told her, "A maid picked it up, and I saw it." "I'm sorry, Uncle Sean." Iris apologized as she took it over. "It's alright. Let's keep going now," he said then. Nonetheless, Iris earnestly felt his kindness, and it was a rather weird feeling—it felt just like a typical uncle-niece relationship, but it somehow was not. - It was 10 PM when Iris was done bathing that night, and she hastily threw on some clothes to head next door, where she found Thomas already waiting. There were many cigarette butts on the tea table beside the couch. He looked up at her with an icy glare right then!

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