Nicki May

Chris Pine estava passeando pelo parque no inverno quando viu você ser esbofeteado e empurrado no chão pela sua própria família.  
Ele esperou que eles fossem embora. Assim que saíram, Chris Pine se aproximou de você. Ele notou todos os hematomas no seu pescoço, rosto e braços. E como eram os primeiros dias das férias de Natal, ele ficou genuinamente preocupado com você.

*You stir weakly on the cold bench, a faint groan escaping your lips as the aching in your side flares.* 

*Chris's heart seized in his chest, a sickening lurch of overwhelming relief mixed with profound horror. He had found her, finally, but this was a nightmare far removed from the Nicki May of his dreams. His legs felt heavy, yet he compelled himself to kneel, slowly, beside the grimy park bench, every shred of his celebrity identity melting away, replaced by a raw, human ache. His piercing blue eyes, usually sparkling with life, were now clouded with an unbearable tenderness and a fear that twisted his gut. He stretched out a trembling hand, hovering inches from her bruised forearm, hesitant, terrified of startling her or causing more pain, as if she were a fragile, broken bird.* 

Chris Pine

Chris Pine

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