I let her go

Your mind is spinning too much for this to be OK. You shouldn't be doing this...You let her go and get off the couch, leaving her on the cushions to look up at you. She looks so...confused. You looked away and covered your mouth. What the fuck am I doing??

"Hey...Sorry, Flora." A lump forms at the base of your throat. "You just...really remind me of someone I knew."

Your hands are placed on your hips. You exhale and shake your head, closing your eyes as you continue to wonder what the hell was going through your mind. Were you even thinking?! Flora was your unofficial client that needed protection, and you almost threw yourself at her after just a short date. Kenji and the others haven't even been gone for a full day, and you tried to do that because she looks like-

"That was kind of nice," Flora suddenly comments. "My...I haven't had someone hold onto me like that in all my life. It felt really nice."

The thought of turning around came to mind, but you didn't. You only cleared your throat. You had to switch gears in your line of thinking now. "How so?"

Silence boils in the cave for what seems like forever before she decides to reply to your question. "I don't think you'd really understand."

Finally, you turn around. You've calmed down enough to face her once more. "I'd still like to know what you mean, though."

A pathetic excuse for a smile forms on her lips. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, we'll be together for some time. It might be a good thing to learn some things about each other." You lean against the wall. "I told you a bit about myself already. If you want to talk more about me, don't be afraid to ask anything."

Flora's mouth becomes crooked as she folds onto herself. "My background isn't adventurous, though."

"I only told you the things about me that I wanted you to know. I'm actually one big bag of depression with two legs."

Her lips smile again, but this time her eyebrows arch. "Seriously?"

"Ah...Nah. (??)"

"Well...You mentioned someone named Delilah before...Is she the one you are referring to? Do I look like her? Talk like her? Or just have the personality?” She purses her lips together at your silence. "You remind me of someone I used to know too. But you don't share any of his characteristics or personality. You both are complete polar opposites from each other."

Flora looks away. Her expression darkens as her gaze is fixed on the dirt wall. "The person I'm referring to is my husband. Well, my now ex-husband. I'm a widow, I think?”

Jesus, this just got a little heavier...

"My family married me to a man that I thought loved me when I turned 21. He treated me like a queen and made me feel like the last woman alive. He was a rich, powerful man that came out of Boston. He had connections and got involved in a lot of trading wars with the others States. He put on a great show for everyone, even me when we were 'home.’ He'd go on these week-long business trips and return to me like nothing bad had happened. Then one day, one way or another, something happened, and he asked me to come with him - he didn't tell me why or what we were doing, but I trusted him. I thought he loved me... He knew I loved him. So he took me to New York state. When my parents heard about this, they asked how I felt. I remember snapping at them for questioning him - questioning the man that they made me marry and to one day have offsprings with."

Flora grunts, a look of disgust washes over her face. "I don't know who I am angrier with now. Them or me...Whatever. He took me to New York and dolled me up. He bought me all the clothes I liked. Protected me like no one else ever did. I spent more than fortunate keeping me feed and entertained until we made it to what used to be the Big Apple. There, he sold me to a group of Chinese gun runners for a shipment of AKM's and 30.cal machine guns."

"...I felt so dirty my in the dress. So whorish and used with my makeup. My first and only act of defiance was taking off my fucking ring and throwing it at the bastard I was married to." Flora cups her hands and leans into her knees. Her grace had gone missing, and her voice was lacking the innocence you once looked for. "A dozen men reached out and touched me. Everywhere. They slapped me around before they dragged me and my luggage into a car to drive me around as they counted their gains. I felt their eyes go over me like a toy the entire way back to their hold out."

She exhales. Her hazel eyes were now dark. "I wasn't **** or used by them, but I know I would have if it weren't for the crossfire they got into with a rival gang along the way. The driver of the car I was in died somehow and drove us through a barrier and fence where I could slip out and escape during the firefight that ensued after the crash. Unfortunately...I was caught by the attackers - with my luck. They were **** dealers. My 'pristine' appearance gave me a one-way ticket being face-fucked by the first guy that found me, and then stripped and beaten in a camp in front of 30 men."

A drawn-out sighed comes from her mouth. "From there, I was taken to Ohio - I had pretty much given up hope at that point. I wasn’t sexually abused all that much; they didn't want to damage any of their product - they just flaunted me naked at every stop to gather attention...Before I was either sold or taken somewhere else, though, Amari found me. She gave me a choice to either follow her around or stay where I was."

She shrugs and leans into the couch, motioning to the cave. "And here I am. Montana. Telling some strangers my entire life story."

She leans back, folding her legs together, and then holds them together. “The way you were holding onto me felt like the same way I thought my ex-husband held onto me...the only difference was that I could feel real love behind your actions...”

“So,” she deadpans. “It felt nice.”