Last Hope {a paramore fanfiction}

Chapter Twenty One

I never really had a family. I had my aunt and she had two sons. But I never knew my mother or father. And I never wanted to spend time with my aunt. I got on with the sons but they moved out soon being older. She remarried and her husband was lovely. But I just kept myself to myself. I never even asked about my two years in Ireland. But that didn't mean I didn't think about it all the time. I looked at Hayley, Jeremy and Taylor as they cleared away the table. Right now, this family was pretty damn perfect.

Hayley and Jeremy left, leaving me and Taylor to sit and watch some late night TV whilst trying to de-bloat from the Chinese food. We sat sprawled on the sofas. "Is it bad that I still feel full from the Chinese but I want ice cream?" He asked. I silently got up and walked to the freezer pulling out the vanilla tub and taking two spoons from the drawers. I walked back over and lied down on the opposite side of the sofa whilst opening the carton and putting the ice cream on the table. He looked at me. I paused before looking back at him. "I was waiting for you to say it," I said, pausing again before bursting out laughing and Taylor joining in.

It was around eleven thirty when we both began to yawn and agreed that it was time to hit the hay. I walked in front of Taylor, up the stairs, and to my door. I turned he was suddenly in close proximity to me. "Urm," he said. I realised that the whole night we'd manage to avoid the topic of what happened in his bathroom. The moment which seemed to knock us even more off course to a good destination. Or was avoiding telling Taylor how I felt, going in the wrong direction ultimately? "I don't want you to think that today ruined our friendship," he said. "I mean seeing you in your...it's basically a bikini and that's cool," he said. I knew he was trying to make it better. "It's cool Taylor," I said and wrapped my arms around him. Me and Taylor and hugged before but no recently. I mean, like I said, small touches and of course that day where his hands were on my waist, but not a full on hug in a while. When he hugged me back I remembered something. "Shit, my bandages, I didn't put them on," I said. "Here, let me go get them," Taylor said as he walked into his room and returned with them in hand. As I took them, it reminded me of the past few days and what had happened. I had nearly forgotten about all of it. It reminded I needed help and that Taylor was doing just that. But also that I was weak. And vulnerable. Just the way I was when I was with Sam. Taylor noticed my worried face. "Do you need me to help out them on for you or-" "No, no...no, I'm fine. Good night," I said abruptly and walked into my room.

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I pulled the chicken out of the oven. I decided to surprise Sam with a home cooked meal for our first night together since we moved in to the apartment. He'd been in a bad mood recently, different to the way he'd been when I first met him. We started dating when I got back from tour with Paramore in November after I met him in a club in August 2010. It had been fun. Getting drunk in clubs and smoking whatever was given to us. But we decided to stop and that it shouldn't go on. That's when he suggested we move in with each other. It was now March and we hadn't been dating long but I thought what the hell? At the time I told myself I was being spontaneous because of love, but in reality, I hoped it would be some way to distract myself from the demons in my head.

I started to make a salad when I heard the door open and slam. Sam had gone to meet with some friends. "Hey babe, your back sooner then I expected," I said. He walked through the apartment to our room. I had been bluntly ignored and like it would do, it put me in a bad mood. It TV was on in the living room, when I heard something that sparked my interest. "The rock band Paramore, who had two members leave in December of last year, have revealed they've just recorded a track, called "Monster," that is set to he in the new Transformers movie," the overtly chirpy news reader, who couldn't care less about what she was saying. I suddenly heard the tv turn off. "Hey Sam, I was watching that," I said. "Well you're not anymore," he commented as he opened up the freezer and pulled out a can of beer. He slammed the door hard, making me jump. I felt my heart beat suddenly increase. He pulled a chair out from the table in the kitchen, sending a screeching noise through the creepily quiet apartment. I felt his eyes burn into the back of my head. It made me nervous as I served the food. My hands began to shake and dropped a folk on the floor, causing him to sigh and curse under his breath.

We sat in silence as we munched the food. I couldn't help but notice that Sam was pushing it around his plate, in a sulking state. "Are you not gonna eat it?" I said. "Don't kid yourself, it's not like it tastes amazing," he said. My heart pumped hard. "Sam...I spent time and effort on this.." I said. "Well, it doesn't fucking taste that way," he said, looking at me and smirking, taking a swig of his beer. "Sam you can't-" "I can't do what exactly?!" and in that moment the plate was flung on the floor, smashed. I didn't know what to say or do. I slowly stood up and scraped up the remains of the food and plate. I heard him laugh slightly.

I threw it in the bin and turned back to him at the table. "Sam," I said and he stood up. I'd always hated being short. Everyone loomed over me and laughed. But now I hated it because Sam was looming over me and scaring me. A shudder went through me. "What?" He spat. "You can't just-" I rose my hands in frustration, caught completely off guard when he grabbed my wrist. I yelped.

"Now, you listen here," he said. He put his face right in mine, snarling as he did. It was at this moment I realised features of him I hadn't noticed before. The ones on the inside. The rage he had. But I wasn't prepared for what else he had in store. "If you tell me one my time," he said, squeezing my wrist. "One more fucking time what I can't do," he said. I began to turn my wrist, the pain becoming unbearable. I felt my eyes water. "I snap your arm so badly, that you won't ever be able to do what you call playing in tune or that cursed guitar...understand?"

He left. I lied on the floor, ignoring the small pieces of crockery in my skin that I had missed when clearing up. What had I done?

I tried to sleep that night and was finally drifting off when I heard the door open and slam again. Sam stomped through the house and to our room. He walked into the ensuite. I tried to act like I was asleep. He came back out and lied down in bed. I felt his hand reach over my body. "Babe..what I said wasn't right, okay? I'm sorry," he said, bringing his body closer to mine. He kissed my neck, and made me shudder. Not the way I had before that night, the feeling of lust coursing through me. This was just plain terror. "Did you hear me?" I smelt the alcohol off his breath. "Yes Sam," I said. "I love you," he said and rolled me over.

He kissed me. Felt him begin to trying and get closer to me, but I pushed him away. He wouldn't stop and his hands went to my sweats and under to my underwear. "No Sam," I said. "Not tonight," I said. He wouldn't stop. I tried to push his hand away from me, but I couldn't with his weight on me. "Sam please," I said. His hand on my arm pinched me. He squeezed again and hard and twisted like he'd done before. "Do you want to make me angry again?" he asked. But I wasn't a question. I didn't want to make him angry again. But somehow I always managed to.

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I woke up, sitting bolt upright in my bed. I let out a strangled yell and my breathing was uncontrollable. I felt the stick sweat clad all over my body. Every so often I'd have these nightmares and wake up in the same state, before facing a sleepless night. But there was something different about this time.

"Bethan, are you okay!?" said Taylor. He was now standing in front of me. He quickly held my hands and knelt down beside me. "Bethan? Bethan, look at me and breath," he said. I did as he told me too. As I regained my breathing I looked at his face. His kind, happy face. Why was Sam never like that?

I began to cry. "Oh Bethan," he said. "Bad nightmare?" he asked. I nodded, letting go of his hands to cover my face. I didn't want him to see me like this. He took my hands back into his and looked at him again. "Do you want me to sleep in here...with you?" I nodded slowly.

This was the great thing about Taylor. You didn't need to give him the long explanation and reject his offers of kindness. He knew when you didn't want to talk and he always offered to help and mean it.

I lied back down in bed, as he walked around. He slowly lifted the covers and slid in next to me. I turned to face him and weakly smile as him. He smiled back. I closed my eyes. I began to drift off after a couple of minutes. Taylor's breathing calmed me. In my last moment before I went to sleep, I felt his hand hold mine. "Good night Bethan," he said, as his interlocked his fingers with mine.