To Be Loved | Chris Evans Fan Fic

6

TW - injury detail.

I couldn't even bring myself to properly look at my reflection in the mirror. From the pain I was in, I had a dreading feeling about what was going to be staring back at me.

I brought my hand up to my cheek, the iciness of my fingertips helping to sooth the tender area. Tears began to pool in my ducts as the events of last night replayed in my head. Me coming home drunk, stumbling all over the place as Max grew angrier, questioning where I was and who I was with. When I was unable to give him an answer he was satisfied with, he gripped onto my arm .Max's shouts rang in my ears, his degrading venomous words on repeat. I felt a shift in the mattress next to me and I tensed, sending a wave of pain wash over my bruised body. Quietly, I creeped out of bed to make my way to the toilet. Trying carefully not to step on a creaky floorboard, I pushed the bathroom door open. It was still dark outside due to the ungodly hour it was. Through the dim moonlight shining through the bathroom window, I could see the outline of me in the mirror. Pressing my waist up to the sink, I let out a gasp as I traced the outline of a forming bruise on my cheek. My hand slapped over my mouth at the sudden noise as I waited silently for any stirring coming from the bedroom. As my heartbeat slowed back to normal as there was nothing coming from the other side of the door, I reached for the string and pulled it down slowly.

Then the haunting realisation hit as the bathroom illuminated with the warm light. Another uncontrollable gasp escaped my lips as I was able to see the full extent of the consequence from the previous night. Small purple blotches raked the inside of my thighs, I closed my eyes as I ran my fingertips over my thighs, remembering every agonising detail. My finger tips trailed up further to the hem of my pj top. I slowly pulled it over my head, my muscles aching with every miniscule movement. A red handprint decorated the top of my right arm, branding me. I inhaled deeply, trying to muster up the courage to look at my face.

My eyes were bloodshot, tears threatening to topple down my cheeks. A purpling mark covered my right cheek. My fingertips trailed from the dark bags under my red eyes, to the forming bruise on my cheek, to my swollen lip covered in dried blood.

What was staring back at me in the mirror looked truly horrific. Easing out of my shocked state, I began to go into a fixing mode. I opened up the medical cabinet and pulled out anti-septic cream. Pulling my curly mop of hear on top of my head, I tied it up and began applying the cream to the cut on my lip. Scanning my body over once again, there were scratches decorated across my abdomen which I also applied cream onto.

A loud knock on the door made my blood run cold and my heart drop. "Lily what are you doing?" Max asked, his voice sounding sleepy.

"Just going to the toilet" I replied, my voice sounding like a near whisper. I flushed the toilet to try make it sound more convincing. Slipping my top over me, I braced myself to open the door. My heart beat quickened as I reached for the door handle. Before I could touch it, it began to rattle.

"Lily why is the door locked?" he quizzed, sounding more agitated. The door rattled again. I quickly reached for the lock and twisted it open, stepping back after I did so.

The door flung open, my limbs began to shake with fear. The door flew open. Max's angry face softened at the state of me. Holding his out to reach for me, I flinched. Staring into his dark green eyes, I could see them tear up. "Lily, I'm so sorry" he sobbed. Relaxing slightly, I let him touch my face. He was careful not to touch the inflamed side. Without exchanging any further words he stepped beside me and turned on the bath tap. Holding his hand under the fossette to get the right temperature. He squirted bubble bath into the rising warm water and bubbles began to form.

Once the bath was full, he picked me up slowly, looking at me in the eyes to see if he was hurting me. He placed me into the warm water and rubbed the soapy suds over my bruised arms. Washing away the terror of the night. His kind encouraging words washing the degrading agonising ones which were previously shouted. His warm loving touch washing over the purple bruising covering my body. Washing it all away.

~ this was horrible to write, but i feel it was necessary for the story to show the dynamic between Max and Lily. We can all start to see the pattern of abuse, and get a real understanding of the reason for the gaps in Lily's memory. Chris is going to start to play a key role in this storyline soon!~