Protection. 

Protection.

“Your papa is not here anymore. Is he?” His eyes were cruel and cold. “Nor do I see your uncle here to protect you. Or is he?” His stance remained as stoic as a cool iceberg. “If you were so protected like you claimed, how come you're here with me then?” Eyes were so cold that I couldn't see any warmth in them or the emotions such as empathy that should be present in human beings for other people: compassion. He lacked compassion. I was suddenly struck by the realisation. And his unreadable emotions had me awash with disbelief. I felt small at the intensity of his stare. Even when in a sitting pose, he seemed huge, bulky, and taller. I chewed my lower lip after downcasting my eyes onto the open buttons of his white shirt. He had accomplished his motive by making a point there. Didn't he? Because his words weren't untrue.

I had no answer to those questions.

Filled with angry tears, I clenched my hands into fists. He hummed before taking a firm grip on my small-fisted han