Story (Part 1): Please don't hurt me

The flickering neon sign outside the diner cast Caroline's face in a sickly green glow. Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the storm brewing inside her. Her hands trembled as she clutched the worn leather purse, her knuckles white against the brown. Please don't hurt me, the silent plea echoed in her mind, a constant refrain since she'd bolted that morning.

The diner door creaked open, a gust of wind sending a shiver down her spine. A young man, his hair plastered to his forehead with raindrops, looked up from wiping down the counter. His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with concern as they landed on Caroline's tear-streaked face.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.
Caroline's lips twitched. Speak. You have to. But the words wouldn't come. Her throat constricted, a raw fear keeping them hostage.

The man, sensing her distress, lowered the cloth he held. "Come in," he said, his voice soothing. "Get out of the rain."
There was a kindness in his eyes, a genuineness that tugged at something deep within her. With a shaky breath, she stepped inside. The warmth of the diner enveloped her, chasing away the chills that had taken root in her bones.

He didn't push her. He simply gestured to a booth in the back, tucked away from the few other patrons. When she didn't respond, he brought a steaming mug filled with what looked like hot chocolate and placed it on the table next to her. "This will help warm you up."
Caroline took a tentative sip, the hot liquid soothing the rawness in her throat. It was then she noticed the name tag on his chest - Tyler.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Tyler moved behind the counter, his face shadowed by the overhead lights. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

She shook her head, the tears welling up again. The fear was a coiled viper in her stomach, and any attempt to speak felt like it might send it thrashing.
Tyler didn't press it. He went about his work efficiently, occasionally stealing a look at Caroline. There was a vulnerability about her, a fragility that sparked a protectiveness within him.

Over the next few hours, as the storm outside gradually dwindled, a quiet camaraderie settled between them. Caroline watched Tyler move, his easy confidence a stark contrast to the chaos within her. Every now and then, she'd steal a glance at him, captivated by the way his brow furrowed in concentration when he tallied the bill for a customer.

As the diner emptied, Tyler switched off the neon sign, plunging the room into a soft darkness.
"You should get some rest," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Caroline understood. She couldn't stay here forever. With a deep breath, she rose. Reaching for her purse, she found a crumpled twenty inside.
"I don't have much," she began, pushing the money towards him. "For the hot chocolate…"
Tyler shook his head, his eyes holding hers. "Keep it. You'll need it more than I do."

Their eyes locked, a silent conversation transpiring. There was a question in his gaze, an unspoken understanding dawning within him. Caroline knew he saw the fear in her, the echo of hurt hidden behind her guarded expression.
"Thank you," she said again, the words thicker with gratitude this time. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she turned, one last look at the man who'd offered her a safe haven in her storm.

The next few days were a blur. Caroline drifted from place to place, a ghost haunting the city streets. Each day was a battle against the fear, a constant reminder of the life she'd left behind.

One night, huddling for warmth in a bus shelter, a memory surfaced. The warmth of the diner, the kindness in Tyler's eyes. A desperate hope sparked within her. Maybe… maybe he could help.

She returned to the diner, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The familiar neon sign glowed in the night, a beacon in her darkness. Steeling herself, she pushed open the door.

The diner was empty, except for Tyler who was polishing glasses behind the counter. He looked up, his face lighting up with surprise, then concern when he saw the haunted look in her eyes.
"Caroline?"

She walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. "I… I need help," she blurted out, the words tumbling over each other.
Tyler placed the glass he was holding down and came closer. "What's wrong?"
Taking a deep breath, she poured out her story. The abusive relationship, the constant fear, the desperate escape.