I woke up with my heart pounding so frantically that I feared it might break my ribs. I sat up abruptly in bed, feeling as if an invisible hand, Oliver's hand, was squeezing my throat and choking me. In the blink of an eye, the bedside light came on, revealing Erik's room before my eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, gently stroking my back. I nodded, swallowing hard.

It had just been a nightmare, but the echo of the suffocating sensation still lingered, making it difficult to breathe. Erik got up silently and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I ran my hands over my face, trying to rid myself of the horrible feeling enveloping me. Over the years, I had been sweeping all the problems, the shouting, and the gruesome things that had defined my relationship with Oliver under the rug. Now, with the rug lifted, I was facing head-on all that accumulated filth, and I felt terrified. It was true that with Erik around, the fear was less, but not enough.

After dinner, we had hugged, kissed, and he had made me feel desired, but as soon as his lips touched my neck, I froze completely. He understood, of course, but I didn't want to feel this way, like a broken doll simply because my former owner had shattered me. Erik returned with a glass of water, which I greatly appreciated, and I took a sip, noticing how dry my throat was.

"We should listen to Vir," he said, looking at me with concern.

"Which part?" I asked, glancing at him sideways.

"The part about the wedding, you've already said no," he smiled.

"And about going to Spain too," I pointed out.

"You should do it for yourself, but also for all the poor women who have the misfortune of meeting him. If the police already know what kind of person he is... with a second complaint, they'll take it more seriously," he said, looking me straight in the eyes.

He was right. Such people deserved to be marked and punished. Oliver hadn't just raised his voice on a specific day, nor had he broken a table because of a bad day at work. He was horrible ninety percent of the time, although the other ten percent knew how to make you believe he was an excellent being of light.

"I just don't want to run into him again, and..."

"I'll go with you, you're not alone in this," he assured me.

"And Vir will ask you a thousand questions," I bit my lower lip knowing that my friend would ask him things that wouldn't even occur to professional investigators.

"What are you afraid she'll find out?" he laughed. I took another sip of water.

"I don't know. That you have another girlfriend in Glasgow or..." Erik didn't let me finish the sentence, he put his hand on my wrist and squeezed gently, making me look at him.

"I'm not your ex. I'm not going to deceive you. Nor shout at you, nor do anything horrible to you," he said with such confidence in his voice that it was impossible not to believe him.

"I know."

"Then stop doubting. The only thing she can find out about me through your friend is that I tell her how much I like you. Because you don't seem to believe me," he smiled, and I rolled my eyes with embarrassment.

"It's hard to believe," I defended myself.

"Why is it hard to believe?"

"Because you're very handsome." Erik laughed, making a very funny face.

"Do you think I don't like you because I'm very handsome? Thank you, you're also very beautiful, but that doesn't mean I don't believe I like you when I look at you like that," he said, looking at me intently and smiling when he noticed I was blushing. "And your cheeks turn fiery."

"Why would you want to be with a girl like me?" I simply didn't understand, he could be with whoever he wanted. Why me?

"Because you don't understand half of what I say," he said jokingly, I gave him a little slap on the arm and he laughed even more.

"So, Spain is your hunting ground."

"I already went to Spain and fell in love with a Spanish girl's smile," he reminded me. "Now I'm trying to win her over."

"I didn't know Scotsmen were players."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"You thought all we did was go to the pub to drink whiskey?" he laughed, and I nodded amused.

"And wear skirts"

"kilts." He corrected me by rolling his eyes.

"And throw logs."

"You need a Scottish boyfriend to change your perspective," he denied, making a very funny noise with his tongue.

I looked at him. Did he just say I needed a boyfriend? Did he not count himself? Did he think of himself as a potential relationship? What were we?

"What did I say?" he asked, possibly seeing the doubts in my gaze.

"Nothing," I said, looking away.

"Andy..."

"What are we?" I asked, bluntly. Erik raised both eyebrows, probably not expecting that question at all, but quickly relaxed his features and took a deep breath gently.

"What do you want us to be?"

"I asked first," I defended myself.

"I know, but my answer depends on yours."

Okay, I had no idea what I wanted us to be. I liked being his friend, and obviously, I liked Erik as something more than that, but... Was I ready to take that step? Did I want to get into another relationship and end up suffering? Why did I assume I would suffer?

"I like you." Erik smiled, lighting up the room more than the light on his bedside table.

"Do you like me?" he asked, playfully, and I nodded, blushing.

"But that doesn't mean that..."

He didn't let me finish before he put his lips on mine and kissed me gently, making all the doubts that were stuck in my head relax.

"What do you think if instead of labeling it, we set boundaries?" he suggested, gently pulling away from me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, somewhat confused.

"One of my boundaries is lying. Don't lie to me," he asked, and I nodded, I liked that boundary, I wanted it too.

"I accept it and ask the same of you," Erik nodded.

"We can negotiate what we have, without calling it anything, when you come up with things you want or don't want, you tell me," thank goodness I was already somewhat adept with the language because when Erik spoke as if he had been there all his life, I felt like a beginner again.

"I think I understand. Like a contract," I said, and he laughed.

"Do you want a safe word too?" he said, amused.

"Do we need one?" I asked, putting the glass of water on the bedside table and lying down next to him. Erik adjusted his arm so that I could lean on it and turned off the light, stroking my hair.

"It never hurts."

"I'm not sure if I can give you that right now," I confessed. Erik turned to look at me, although the room was too dark to see each other well.

"What do you mean?"

"Something more... intimate. I know we've already slept together but..."

"Andy, I don't like you for sex, although I have to admit I like sex with you," he kissed my forehead. "If you didn't want to cross that boundary with me again, I would respect it." His words left me confused.

What kind of man wanted to be with a woman without sleeping with her? Did he have a completely wrong concept?

"But then, you would sleep with others. We wouldn't be a couple."

"Do you think I sleep with a different woman every day?" he asked, with a playful voice.

"You could," I shrugged.

"But just because I could, doesn't mean I want to."

"You don't want to?"

"Why would I want to?"

"Why do you always answer me with questions?"

"Because I love how your forehead wrinkles when you don't understand me," he kissed my forehead. "Don't worry about that. I won't sleep with anyone else."

"And in 20 years?"

"Are you going to put up with me for 20 years?"

"Erik!" I complained, because he answered me with another question.

"Andrea, stop worrying about everything. You're here, now, with me. Forget about what will happen in 20 years," he turned to stay facing me, putting his forehead against mine.

"From your mouth, it sounds easy."

"It's a lifestyle, making things easy. Do you want to be here now, with me?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's all that matters," he rubbed his nose against mine. "I won't do anything you don't want. And if I do something you don't want, you have permission to kick me out of your life without remorse."

"I don't want to kick you out of my life."

"Then stop worrying and enjoy." I felt like it was a dream.

Too good to be true. Perhaps, I had become so accustomed to the nightmare that, faced with a healthy person like Erik, I felt out of place.

"I don't want to confuse you. I want to kiss you, but I don't know if I can go further." Erik put his lips to mine, but didn't kiss me, just left them there.

"You can do whatever you want with me, as far as you want, when you want, and how you want," he whispered, intoxicating me with his warm breath. "And if we go further and you decide to stop, we'll stop. Never feel bad about setting boundaries." I gave him a small, soft, short kiss.

"I'm not a bad person for it?"

"Neither bad, nor a slut, nor taking advantage."

"You're not real. Surely at some point, I died on my way to this island and you're my reward for so many years of suffering." Erik hugged me, resting my head against his chest and kissing my hair.

"Then enjoy your hell, you've got a pretty mischievous devil."