Matryoshka
He saw what he had expected: fear mostly and pain of course, the raw emotions of any wounded animal. But there was something there that surprised him. It wasn't courage exactly, somehow that was the wrong word for it. Discipline. Some kind of tenacious inner strength that was unusual in someone so young. This was a girl who exerted an enormous amount of control over herself. All of it working overtime not to panic.
And yet, at the same time, she looked so impossibly fragile. Her wide blue eyes were so open, the fear so close to the surface it seemed like he could touch it if he were a bit closer. There were no walls up at all, no hint that she knew she should try not to look so much like prey. And the grip she had on herself, cost her dearly. Something inside of her seemed to be burning far too hot. Flames licking the feet of some virgin martyr.
His cock stiffened in his trousers.
“You heard my name.”