He roughly grabbed her dark hair and shoved her down onto the bed, "Edith I swear to God-!"
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Her struggles and wails were to no avail as she tried her best to fight against him.
Her tear stained cheeks puffed out, "I already said sorry, just let me go already!" Her defined face was pushed into his bed and his intoxicating scent overwhelmed her. He leaned down next to her ear, lifting up her head with his hand. She felt his cool breath fan across her face.
"This is your last fucking warning," He spat at her maliciously before pounding her head back into his sheets and storming out the room, there she was left a sobbing mess in.
What were they fighting about? Hell if she knew, it was just another one of Owen's moodswings. Her black eyeliner and mascara had been ruined and it was now left in streaks down her face, her dark black hair was matted and clung to her wet cheeks, there was blood spilling down her nose after he had slapped her so hard that she felt her vision go fuzzy.
As a drop of red plopped onto her dainty hands she rushed to the bathroom that was across the hall. The brunette only just remembered that his parents were home and they had probably heard all the screaming, loud bangs and crying. She always wondered why they never intervened, maybe they themselves didn't know the full extent of their son's temper issues.
Owen showed that side of him to only her and let only her feel the effects of it, the bruises, the pain, the scars...
She stared into her reflection tiredly. She looked half dead - her pale skin matched with deadly ice blue eyes and hollowed cheeks, her small button nose that was still currently dripping into the sink that she was gripping onto for dear life, the only part of her that seemed to have colour were her blood pink lips that she constantly bit and gnawed on. One of Owen's oversized black jumpers hung off her lowly. She was extremely skinny to the point where it didn't seem healthy, she had deep eyebags but her eyes were shielded by her waist length straight black hair.
Edith Marilyn Harvey felt like a zombie, a shell of her old self.
She rubbed off her ruined makeup with water and held a tissue to her nose as she gave herself one final glance and then stumbling back into his room. It was messy and her clothes were littered over the floor, there was barely any light in his room, his bed was tucked into the corner of the room and facing away from it was his gaming setup , his shelf was packed full with books, dvds, games and manga. Next to it was his prized possession of vinyls and his myriad of skateboards, some broken, other worn.
She uncomfortably sat on the fluffy rug and leaned against his bed. That bruise she had gained from him a couple days ago for talking back was starting to ache.
Grabbing her phone off the night stand she looking at the time. 4:30. She had to be home soon, but she couldn't go back like this. She could feel a new bruise forming on her thigh and internally sighed. The idea of wearing baggy clothing and long sleeves for the next week in the midst of a sudden heat wave did not seem appealing.
