𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡; 1.2k 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠; mentions of domestic abuse, angst. 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑?; no sir 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑎𝑢 (don't worry, more zombie ass kicking will come later)
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Blackness is all you saw. To your actions, of course. You were slumped over on your dear friends couch with your eyes closed shut. Loneliness, guiltiness, and despair is the only thing you felt right now.
Well, that and the brusied wrist you had from someone you trusted. Someone you loved dearly.
The emotional pain outweighed the physical pain by a long shot.
You just wanted it to end.
Eventually, your eyes soon fluttered open, going back closed a couple times due to the lights in the apartment. The blindness didn't stay for long, though. You soon we're able to make out the details of this all too familiar space.
You've spent so many hours here. Being comforted about the single thing you're here tonight about. That damned boyfriend.
Your hands dropped to the couch fabric, running your thumbs over the soft surface over and over. Hoping to find some sort of comfort by this action. Soon interupted by something cold.
Your eyes greeted the object with a blurry gaze. Fingers went to grab it and bring it closer so it could be identified. A key. Carlos' key.
He had given it to you when this all started. A place for sanctuary. You couldn't turn it down, having known him since you two were teenagers.
Years of him protecting you against bullies in grade school. And occasionally still doing it at college parties. Watching your drink for you, keeping a close eye on boys around you. And the level of graditude you have for him is unexplainable.
You both had been very close. And had relationships suffer from that. Everyone thought that you two were together. But it turns out, best buddies were all that you two were.
Feeling the rough, jagged pattern of the key you began to think on things. You were still a little shaken up by everything that had happened. A lot less than earlier, considering it's a couple hours in the past.
The TV still showed the colors of South Park. You tuned in and out, deciding that a bit of dark humor would be nice. Plus nothing else was really on at this time of night, anyway. Well except the news, but who watches that at 2am?
You soon got worn out and seeked out another form of satisfaction. So your legs took you to the kitchen, the cold tile putting a harsh contrast against your warm barefeet. For a moment you thought on why you took your socks off before looking for a cup. You quickly found one in the cabinet and poured yourself a glass of water.
The refreshing liquid slid down your throat and spread throughout your body. Not literally, but it felt like it. You could feel the coolness work its way through. Before you took another sip, you felt keys jingle at the door and the doorknob harshly getting tugged.
A sigh, a curse, a small bang.
Then, the door finally swung open.
"Carlos?" Your timid voice asked, rounding the corner.
There stood the man that's all too familiar. Dressed in a black t-shirt, cargo pants and work boots. Shaggy hair and a scruff.
Carlos immediately found the bruise on your wrist and dropped his backpack, walking over to you. His pace was more careful than hurried. He wanted to make sure there was no other damage.
Once he was sure there was nothing else he pulled you into a hug. His hugs always comforted you. How couldn't it? It was like hugging a gentle, giant bear.
But, I think we all know Carlos isn't always...gentle.
"Did it happen again?" He asked with a low voice, placing his chin ontop of your head.
"Yeah." You simply responded, letting your eyes flutter closed. Your nose took in the scent of the Oliveria. Nerves appreciating his presence.
"I'm never letting you see him again. Not after all this." He soon added, tone a tad airy. You could tell that he was worried, and for the right reasons. He had enough of all this stress. Enough of seeing you get hurt. Enough of wanting to protect you but rendered unable.
"I don't want to. Damned bastard." You mummered, letting out a grim chuckle. You honestly felt a little odd about not leaving him sooner. It was nothing but uncertainty and pain. You could've ended it a lot sooner.
He had you wrapped around his little slimy finger.
Carlos replied with nothing but a light smile and pulled away. Internally you pouted at the lack on contact.
"You wanna head to sleep now? You could take the couch or, join me in my bed." He cooed, gesturing to each place as he mentioned them. At the mention of the bed he gave a tsk of his tounge.
You didn't give him a verbal answer and just walked over to the bedroom of his door.
A light, airy giggle came from behind you. "Bed it is, miss sassy." He commented, following suite.
The doorknob on his door was quite cold as you wrapped your hand around it. Nonetheless you swung it open and was greeted by his pitch black bedroom. But you've been in here enough to navigate through it. It was a regular thing to happen.
You walked over to the edge of the bed and placed yourself on it. Carlos entered after, mimicking your presence on his bed. As you slid back to get more comfortable you heard thumps fly their way through the floor. They would soon prove themselves to be caused by the Raven haired male removing his boots.
Sliding under the covers you faced the wall, feeling the cool radiate off of the white surface. You curiously rose a knuckle to rest on it, soon switching to an open palm. Behind you the bed shifted and dipped. Saying that Carlos was too laying down.
You laid there for a while. Just staring at the wall. You didn't really know what else to do besides look around, which is exactly what you did.
A window on the side of you. You could see a sliver of the moon peeking its way through along with the branches that disturbed it's light.
"C'mere, (n/n)." A voice mummered.
You turned yourself around to spot Carlos with his arms outstretched, inviting you closer. You obliged without question.
As soon as you rested your head on his chest, Carlos' arms slithered around your abdomen and brought you closer. The safety that insinuated was quite satisfactory. He always made you feel safe.
"Y'know, it's a wonder how someone could hit you. Pretty thing. Must be a monster." He whispered, running his thumb down your spine. You had immediately flushed at that. Thank God for this dark room.
But against your inner battles, you soon spoke. "You saying you could do better, cowboy?"
"Pssh, of course I could. Not tooting my own horn. Anyone could do better than that poor excuse of a man." Carlos responded scooting a bit back to see your face. A gentle smile was placed on his lips. He was admittedly quite cute. Shaggy hair blocking a bit of his eyes, made more shaggy by the pressure of the pillows. "But also, I'm pretty great. Wouldn't a Carlos-less world be boring?"
