Spray Paint and Thick Tension

I slowly dropped the knife I was holding, my chest lightly heaving as I avoided Florian's gaze. Does this mean that my parents would be helping Ronan run away after what he just did to me? I know he never held a job, and for a trip like that, my father would have to be sponsoring it. How can they do this to me?

I turned to Florian. He was sitting on the counter, his eyes fixed on me, his expression solemn. I felt tears sting the back of my eyes, and I immediately shook them off, then started to turn back to the meat.

I had no appetite at this point, and no motivation to do anything at all. I wanted to curl up in bed and close my eyes, and just pretend that none of this ever happened to me. That my brother hadn't aided in my violation. That my parents were not helping him escape in turn.

"Roxanne."

I looked up to Florian, and he gave a small smile, then moved backwards, tapping lightly on the small space between his legs.

"Come here."

I looked down, then shook my head. "I won't fit."

H