A/n: I was inspired by the moment Jenny said 'he doesn't fancy girl that scarred up'. She seemed kind of...heartbroken, and I think she may have been. Here's my take on it. Enjoy, and please review:)
Jenny Everdeane walked up the stairs of the brothel just as she had every Thursday evening for the past 4 years. This was the first time she'd gone to attend to The Butcher in about six weeks, though. She'd recently been recovering from having a child removed from her womb. Aside from a scar on her stomach, she had healed perfectly fine, and she was back to normal, ready to slake the lust of Bill Cutting once again.
He'd taken her in when she was about 12 years old. He made her useful as 'The Butcher's Apprentice', assisting him in 'matters of impalement', which in actuality were parlor tricks intended to woo any audience The Butcher saw fit.
Bill Cutting gave Jenny a place in the world. He gave her some self-worth and dignity, and for that she loved him. The Butcher had always, and would always have a special place in Jenny's heart. She knew the reality was that Bill didn't feel the same way about her, and she lived with that. She would never be Mrs. Bill Cutting, no girl ever would. But, she felt as if she had to give something back to Bill for taking care of her like he did. So, she took care of him as well. When he was wounded, she was ready with aid. When he was hungry, she had no problem making him a meal...and when he fancied the company of a woman, she always volunteered to be with Bill.
And so, now, 4 years later, Jenny was 19. Being Bill's company had become a sort of regular thing for her, and she revelled in that. She loved Bill and being with him, in any way she could.
She knocked on the door across the 2nd floor of the brothel.
"Come in!" said Bill's resounding voice through the wooden door. She opened it up to find him sitting in a chair by the fireplace, smoking his pipe and scanning over a newspaper. He looked up unenthusiastically, but his mouth widened into a smile when he saw Jenny.
"Jenny! There's my girl..." he sat back in the chair, and was silent for a moment, taking a puff on his pipe. "Come here," said Bill, motioning with his index finger. He set his pipe down on the mantel above the fireplace as she walked over to him, smiling.
"I've missed you," she said.
Bill raised a finger. "Shh," he said, never looking her in the eye. He was silent, intent. He took his hand, and ran it from Jenny's navel to her collarbone. He traced her collarbone almost admiringly, his hands now moving over her shoulder and up and down her back. Bill seemed almost as if he were remembering or savoring. Finally, he brought his hands back around onto her stomach, tracing the area where the scar would be with his thumb. He sighed.
"Get out, Jen," he said simply, still refusing to meet her eye. Jenny was stunned.
"But, Bill! Please...please!" she pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of his chair, and holding his hands.
"I said get the fuck out, Jen! And get off your knees! You're not some common fucking whore, you're a lady! You got that?" he yelled down at her.
Jenny just wiped her tears, and sighed a resigned sigh. "Yes, Bill." She turned around and left the room immediately, intending to send another girl up in her place.
"I love you..." she whispered so only she could hear, feeling that the only thing that made her life worth living was now being taken away. "I love you, Bill..."