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What Jina had feared came upon her that night as she slept.  She hadn’t encouraged Jungkook to speed things up between them because she hadn’t wanted to remember her past.  She’d been afraid his touch would stir memories better left buried.  But she’d also craved him.  So, eventually, she had given in to her longing and to his tender touch.

Becoming intimate with Jungkook had awoken the echoes she had spent seven years trying to silence.  She lay in bed the next morning after waking from fitful dreams to remember the horrid words several cruel men had spoken to her in some of her most intimate and unwanted encounters with them.

“You’re such a plain girl.  I’m the only one who would ever desire you.  You’ll never turn the heads of any boys your own age.  But a man of my years knows your worth.  You can please me.  Do what I say.  Let me touch you wherever I want, and I won’t hurt you.  You’ll walk away unscathed.”

But it had been a lie.  She hadn’t walked away unscathed.  Not at all.  She’d been scarred.  By more than one man.  Most of them, old enough to be her appa.

In the beginning, a few of them had spoken sweetly to her.  Trying to woo her into letting her guard down.  But after a time of treating her however they liked – with subtle threats here and not-so-subtle ones there – the hatred had become visceral.  Biting into her gut.  They’d blamed her for their own lust.

“It’s all your fault.  You – with your plain face and wide eyes – tempted me to touch you.”

“You’re a bad girl, Jina.  Worthless. Unworthy of any man’s love.  You are a temptress.  Seductive in all your ways.  You tease us all and leave us wanting.  You don’t deserve any man’s love or protection.  You deserve to be punished for luring us.”

Then they had punished her.

She had never been able to figure out what she had done to tempt any of them.   She’d been a child, for goodness’ sake!  She had always dressed modestly.  She hadn’t sought out their touch or the heat of their mouths on her skin.  She had been repulsed by each and every single one of them.  

It was true that she hadn’t kept her eyes trained on the ground.  She’d refused to do that.  But she hadn’t looked them in the eye.  She had done nothing to invite their attention.

But they had been men of standing and she a lowly servant girl.  Powerless to stop them when they’d lured her into empty rooms and locked the door behind her.  They’d forced her to do things and to endure things that had tormented her.  When the abuse had finally stopped – by some grace, she’d been invited to work in the palace and left them all behind when she was thirteen years old – she had attempted to lock all those memories away.  

She’d thought she had succeeded when at fifteen she’d fallen in love with a boy who’d seemed so sweet.  The one she’d risked meeting outside to kiss.  The one who had betrayed her just to mock her as she was flogged.  That day, she’d decided she would never trust another man again.

But then Jungkook had entered the picture.  She’d seen him several times assisting servant girls.  A kind word here.  Bending to pick up something one had dropped there.  Carrying a heavy tray for another.  She had watched him each time.  And she’d watched his eyes to see if they lingered on the girls.  They never had.  Those eyes had always been respectful.  Those hands had always assisted the girls and then left them alone.  

She’d seen his kindness to many people.  And he had possessed the sweetest countenance.  There had been a childlike quality to it.  Something innocent.  Untouched.  She had begun to believe that perhaps she had met a kind boy after all.  Somehow, he had crept under all her defenses and slipped inside her heart.

Before he’d throttled her.  She’d been instantly disillusioned then. 

But since then, she had discovered his heart.  And a little of his past.  She now knew that he was far more complicated than she had at first suspected.  But over the last several days, he had proven himself to her.  He had also shown her how gentle he could be.

It wasn’t his fault the memories had returned.  Still, when he reached for her that morning, she cringed.  And he noticed.  His hand stilled.  His eyes came up to meet hers.  His smile faded.

“Jina?” he whispered.  “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t tell you,” she whimpered.  “If you knew, you’d despise me.”

“What?” his voice cracked.

She rolled away from him.  A moment later, he felt the bed quaking and saw her shoulders shaking.

“Jina?” he whispered tenderly.  “Please don’t shut me out.  Can I – at least – hold you?”

She didn’t respond.  She simply wept harder. 

He reached out to touch her arm, and she froze.  He glanced down at his fingers lying along her upper arm.

“It’s my touch, isn’t it?  It repulses you,” he responded sadly.

She rolled towards him, the agony in his voice biting into her heart and overcoming her fear.  Her eyes found his.  “It isn’t you,” she breathed.  “But your touch reminded me of them.”

“Of whom?” he whispered, but he was pretty sure he knew about whom she was talking.

“The ones who touched me.  Without my permission.”

A wave of compassion flooded his countenance.  “Do you want to tell me about them?”

“No,” she shook her head firmly.  “I want you to burn them out of my memory.”

“Gladly.”  He paused.  “But how?”

“I do not know,” she whispered forlornly.

“What we did yesterday…it reminded you of what they did to you?”

“Not initially.  But I dreamt of them last night, so it must have knocked loose the memories.  Things I’ve tried so hard to forget.”

“Jina, if you ever want to tell me about them, I’m here.  I’ll listen.  You can cry on my shoulder.  I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured as he reached up and cupped the crown of her head with his palm.  Then he ran his hand down it, along the expanse of her silky, midnight hair.  “I’m so sorry you had to endure that.  But it doesn’t say anything about you.  There’s nothing wrong with you, Jina.  You’re perfect.”

She stifled a sob as her eyes met his.  “Am I a temptress, Jungkook?”

“What?  No!”  His eyes searched her face.  “Why on earth would you think that?”

“They told me it was my fault.  That I tempted them.  That I lured them.  But in the beginning, you didn’t even want me.  And I did want you.  So I can’t possibly be that tempting.  If I couldn’t even attract a man I wanted, how did I possibly attract men I didn’t want anything to do with!”

“It was most certainly not your fault!  They blamed their own problem with lust on you.”  He knew a little about that.  He had seen his father do that to several women.  But Jungkook had always known it was wrong.  “You did not lure them,” he ground out, horrified that she would believe such an awful thing about herself.  She’d been a child!  

“You didn’t tempt me.”  He smiled sweetly at her as he very gently added, “Although, now you do tempt me.  But it’s because I’ve fallen in love with you, Jina.  Not because you’re a seductress.  You’re not.”

Her eyes met his again.  “Really?”

“Jina,” he whispered brokenly, “you can’t actually believe that you were the problem.  Can you?”

She shrugged her shoulders as her eyes slid away from him.  “They all told me it was my fault.  One way or another.”

“No.”  He shook his head.  “It was not.”  His heart was breaking in his eyes as they slid over her countenance.  “Please.  Let me hold you,” he urged desperately.  He simply had to comfort her.  Somehow.

She bobbed her head up then down shortly.  He pulled her into his arms and buried his nose in the apple orchard nestled in her hair.  “Jina,” he breathed, but he didn’t know what to say.

She rested her face over his heart, eventually turning her head to listen to the steady beat of that faithful organ.  She felt herself beginning to relax.

“Jina, I’m sorry I woke up your memories.”  Grief was shattering his voice.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered.  

“But if I hadn’t touched you…”

“I wanted you to touch me,” she admitted sheepishly.  “I love you, Jungkook.  I…need your touch.  I just…” her voice trailed off.

His arms tightened around her.  “It’s okay, Jina.  We’ll take it slowly.  Whatever makes you comfortable.  I just want you to be happy with me.”

She drew away from him to meet his eye.  “I am happy with you!  Far happier than I ever dreamed I’d be with a boy.”

A ripple crossed his face, and she giggled.  “You didn’t like that I called you a boy again, huh?”

He shrugged, but then his grin broke out.  He was just happy to hear her laughter again.  “It’s okay.  I think I get it now.”

“Do you?” she sobered.  “They were all men,” she whispered suddenly.  “Most of them old enough to be my appa.”  She swallowed.  “I…part of the reason I feel safe with you is because…”

“I’m younger than you?” he breathed, a sudden vulnerable expression crossing his countenance.

She nodded as her eyes met his again.  “Yes.”

His whole face was suddenly lit as though from within.  “This is the first time I’ve been happy to be as young as I am,” he chuckled.  Then he bent his head and brushed his lips sweetly across hers.  “I love you, Jina.  I mean it.  Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Her heart melted.  “Your affection definitely makes me feel comfortable,” she murmured.

“Jina?”  He was looking at her intently now.

“Hmm?”

“If their words come back to you again, I want you to tell me.  I want to give you something to replace them with.”  He nuzzled her neck then and breathed on her.  In the sweetest way possible.

Tears flooded her eyes.

“No one should ever have to endure what you went through.  And I want to silence those echoes forever.”

“They told me I was plain,” she whispered suddenly.

Jungkook felt his heart turn over.  He’d thought the same thing when he’d first met her.  

Plain.  Inconsequential.  An irritating wisp of a girl.

Now he felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to see her for who she really was.  The girl underneath that face.  The brave soul who shone out of those great obsidian eyes.  The ferocious spirit that had endured so much abuse yet kept on fighting anyway.  And apparently not just for herself.  But for others too.

“They told me no one would ever desire me.  That my only purpose was to make them happy.  That if I did what they told me to, they wouldn’t hurt me.”

His stomach had started to ache again.  

“They lied,” she whispered fiercely.  “Over and over again.  They lied.  They did hurt me.”  

She burst into tears and clung to him.  The boy who loved her.  She’d finally found a boy who loved her.  He’d come to her defense.  No one had ever protected her from any of the predators.  

Until Jungkook had entered her life.  He had rescued her from Chanyeol.  He had been ready to run his sword through the man.  She’d seen the expression in Jungkook’s eyes as he’d spied the guard’s hands on her.  That look had been deadly.  

All vestiges of the boy had evaporated in that moment.  In his defense of her, Jungkook had been a man.  Intent on destroying that which sought to harm the girl he loved.  Maybe he hadn’t loved her then; she wasn’t sure.  But if that protective nature of his bent towards her in such a violent fashion hadn’t been love, what else could she have called it?

“Every single thing they said to you was a lie, Jina.  Every single breath,” he whispered into her ear, his warm breath swamping her with his affection for her.  “You aren’t plain.  Not at all.  You are beautiful – so beautiful – to me.  I do desire you.  All of you.  Heart, soul, and body.  I don’t ever want to hurt you.  I want to make you happy.”

She was so grateful for his love that she turned her tear-streaked face up to meet his and brushed her lips across his mouth.  For several sweet moments, they lay in each other’s arms and shared a few blissful kisses.  And Jina – for the moment, at least – allowed Jungkook’s kindness to brush away her doubts and her memories.  For a little while that morning, she made some new and pleasant memories with him instead of recalling the horrid past.