#Imagine6
You sat there on your boyfriends couch, waiting for him to stop yelling at you. "You're such a whore, (Y/N)!" You winced as he brought his hand down, but he didn't slap you. He groaned angrily and paced in front of you. All you did was sit and let your eyes follow his body.
He didn't always act this way. Little did you know that it wasn't your fault at all. It never was. "I'm sorry," you said trying to apologize to calm him down. It didn't work as all he did was turn to look at you.
"Sorry doesn't always fix things, does it?" He yelled grabbing your arms forcefully and pulling you up to stand. Tears ran down your cheeks and you shook your head to make him happy. When you first met your boyfriend Jeremy, he was in college. Well, he still is in college. And it's your senior year in high school after you graduate Jeremy wants you to come live with him, but you're not so sure. You love him, despite his anger issues, but you aren't ready for total independence from home. His grip began to grow tighter on your wrists and it began to hurt, a lot.
His grip got too painful to handle you had to do something about it. "S-stop! You're hurting me Jeremy!" You told him, but his eyes grew a shade darker. Finally after what felt like forever, he let you go. You fell back onto the couch and watched as he walked into the kitchen. You took a glance at your wrists and sniffled, they were all red. Red as a stop sign. Why did he have to have such a rough grip? You thought to yourself as he came back with a glass of water and some pills in his hand.
"Pills?" You said slowly scooting away from him as he sat down. He threw them into his mouth and quickly swallowed water after. His eyes moved to your face and you watched as they were their normal shade again. He smiled and set down his cup.
"They're to maintain. . . My problems with anger." You nodded and looked around for your school bag.
"I better go," you said as you stood up and walked over to his door. Your bag laid on the ground so you picked it up. Jeremy nodded and walked over to you, he held your wrists in his hands and frowned.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N). . . W-will you believe me, when I say I didn't mean to hurt you?" Should you? No, but some part of you wanted to believe he would stop. Some part wanted to give him another chance.
You looked at the floor and shook your head. "I don't know Jeremy! You said that. Last time. Look what happened now? Over me dancing with some guy?" You yelled getting upset. Once you knew what you did you immediately found yourself cowering under his tall stature.
"That didn't look like dancing." He said folding his arms across his chest. You rolled your eyes and chuckled hysterically.
"He was my cousin? And we were waltzing!" You pointed out agitated. You swallowed regretting what you said, as his eyes grew darker.
"You made me feel like a fool. And don't ever, yell at me!"
Slap!
"Next time you remember your manners." He told you with a small accomplished smile on his face. It disgusted you. Now you finally understood when Dylan, your friend told you he was no good. You hated yourself for being so blind.
Your hand flew up to your cheek to feel a burning. Tears rolled down and you backed away from Jeremy. Your other hand felt for the door handle and you turned it ready to run out. "I'm sorry! Shit (Y/N), I'm so sorry. . ." You shook your head.
"Sorry doesn't fix everything, remember? This thing that we had - done. It's done! I hate you, don't ever speak to me again!" Before he could grab you as he reached out you, you opened the door and ran towards your car. You opened the drivers door and threw in your school bag, next you climbed in and started the engine. You locked your doors and screamed as he came up to your passenger door window. He pounded forcefully against it.
"Let me in you bitch! I'm sorry - just please let me in baby?" You wiped your eyes and without making sure his hand wasn't on the door handle you sped off.
*At Your House*
"Hey hun, you alright?" Your mom asked as you kept your head down with your hood up. She didn't know about Jeremy, mostly because she wouldn't approve if she ever met him. And when you first met him you fell in love, at first sight. Until he started hitting you. You should've known that first time when he was drunk and accidentally slapped you. It should've stopped then. But you gave yourself excuses, you made up excuses for him. But tonight was the night you couldn't take anymore.
"Yeah. Yeah, mom I'm fine." You said quickly before heading up the stairs. Before you reached your room you heard her yell to make sure you come down for dinner. An idea popped into your mind and it involved Dylan. You could really use his support right now.
"Hey mom?" You called wanting to make sure she was listening to you before you asked your question. Once you heard her say yes as a reply you smiled to yourself. For some reason talking to anyone but Jeremy cheered you up since during the weekend you hung out with him most of the time. Of course you did, he is your boyfriend, or was.
"Can Dylan come over? I want to work on homework with him." Your mom hesitated as if thinking it over deeply, then said yes.
"But, (Y/N) you know my rule. Keep your door open." You rolled your eyes and nodded immediately texting Dylan as you opened your room door and jumped onto your bed. It was pretty late so you decided to change into a long t-shirt, and your PINK girl boxers. You let your long, (H/C) hair down and it fell just above your butt.
"Knock, knock." Dylan's voice rang in your ear. You turned around and his smile faded. His eyes roamed over your wrists and then back to your face. You cursed to yourself as you were so careless to cover up your bruises. Earlier you looked in the mirror before Dylan arrived and noticed your eye had been puffy and was surrounded by a purple bruise. You didn't have to look to know your wrists had a purple tint to them too. "What the hell happened to you, (Y/N)!" Dylan said loudly walking over to you and putting his hand gently on your painful cheek. Dylan knew of Jeremy but you never told him about his anger problems, you were too scared he would judge you. But you were foolish back then because now you know he would have been there.
A tear rolled down your cheek. The salt in your tear irritated a cut in your bruise brings immense pain. You immediately ran to your bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, gently dabbing the bruise worried it would hurt even more than it did. "It was that bastard, Jeremy wasn't it?" You looked at Dylan but didn't give him an answer. Did he even need one?
You were too scared to say yes, and you were too ashamed to lie and say no. But, you weren't scared of Dylan, you were afraid someone Jeremy would find out. "I fell down the steps in his apartment." That wasn't a total lie. You did fall down the steps at his apartment, right after he accidentally pushed you. God, why did you stay as long as you did with him? That was a foolish question. "It wasn't my fault," you whispered to yourself for self-reassurance. You needed it.
Dylan walked closer to you, and before he could take a step closer you turned your back to him and shook your head. "Don't." Your voice croaked. "Don't look at me, I'm hideous. I'm a fool and I don't even know the reason you're still friends with me." You felt a hand on your shoulder, and in one swift move you found yourself turned around and leaning on his chest. Against Dylan's chest.
You felt safe there in his arms.
A feeling you didn't often feel. But what were you doing? You couldn't drag him into your mess, could you? You had to build up your wall and push him to the other side before it got too high. "Go home, Dylan. I'll be okay." You said as you got out of his grasp and walked over to your bed. You crawled in under your covers and closed your eyes, expecting to hear the closing of your door.
"I'm still here, (Y/N). And I refuse to leave you in this state of mind. Let me stay, please?" You opened your eyes and watched his expression as it changed into a serious one. Without an answer, he walked over to your bedside and crawled in on the other half of your bed. You were only in shorts and a tank, you blushed as you remembered you didn't have a bra on. Oops.
Dylan turned onto his side face you. Resting his head on his hand, propped up on his elbow he smirked at you. "Long time since we shared a bed, huh?" You laughed. He was right, it was. When both your parents left out to go to a bar or something together, they'd call Benna Grimace. An old lady down the block from you, who usually fell asleep on your couch. When you and Dylan would get tired of playing, he would go tell Benna that both of you would be in your mom's bed sleeping. You both took up one-half of the bed, even though Dylan usually ended up on the floor in the morning. But that was none of you business.
"More like a half of a bed. And you never even stayed on it!" You claimed with a smile on your face. Dylan's mouth fell open.
"That's because you scooted closer to me until I had no room left! So when there was a centimeter left of your parents bed I just decided the floor would be less hassle." You blushed, so that was why? Because your little five-year-old self wanted to sleep closer to him?
"Or, maybe I just wanted the whole bed to myself?" You offered making yourself look a little better. Dylan laughed and you watched as his dimples became visible.
"Not at all. You loved it when you could cuddle up with me. Just admit it already, (Y/N)?" You pushed his shoulder lightly and smiled, but it faded as pain rose up in your cheeks. "Don't worry though, consequently so did I." Your eyes met him, almost daring him to say more.
"Really?"
Pause.
"Yes." Dylan scooted closer to you so your faces were inches apart, and your bodies were touching. His eyes swept over your face like a curtain as his cheeky smile returned to his lips. "You looked adorable when you slept, why did we ever stop having sleepovers?" He asked sarcastically and you rolled your eyes. Why was he so playful? His happy mood was ruining your wanna-be alone time. You wanted to cry out your fears tonight but with him that wasn't possible. You loved and hated him at the same time.
"Hormones?" You replied seriously, you weren't actually paying attention to what he was doing. Although it sounded like he was laughing at your reply. Your mind kept bringing up Jeremy. A guilty feeling erupted in your mind, and you shut everything out except your thoughts.
His face was everywhere. What he would say after hitting you, "My anger issues. . . I'm working on them" If only you didn't have such a generous heart things would've been different. You wouldn't have been going through what you are now. But you were. And somehow you need to move past it. You were scared to leave the house, afraid he would confront you. You were scared to go to school because you walked home after, alone. Surely, he wanted an explanation of where you guys were. You desperately wanted to end everything between the two of you, but he never listened. And you couldn't muster up the courage to tell him either.
"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" Dylan's voice brought you back to reality. You nodded your head and bit your lip. You wanted to move on from Jeremy and end all the feelings you had for him. What way to do that by kissing another man?
"Yeah," you told him as you studied his lips. "Dylan would you do something for me?"
He paused and raised a curious eyebrow. "That depends, should I make sure 911 is on speed dial before I do whatever you want?" You laughed as he reminded you of another good memory. Ah, the old times.
"Nope, this might benefit the both of us, instead of just me." Your eyes widened, you couldn't believe the words that spluttered out of your mouth.
"Alright," he smirked. "What is it?"
You hesitated and your eyes fell down to his lips again. Did you really want to take a chance and possibly ruin the friendship you had with him, to start? Something more. Then you realized you needed to figure out something so you could move on from Jeremy. And if your friendship is what it costed, then that was it. You were going to ruin it. So you opened your mouth but no words escaped your lips.
"Can I kiss you?"
Because they left his.
A/n: Sorry updating too so late. If you guys are reading on your IPhone like I usually do, and can't play the song. It's Shake It Off by Florence + The Machine. I was re-watching glee on Netflix yesterday, and it was the episode where they sang that song to coach. (I forgot her name at this moment). And I'm like what if I do a chapter about abuse? But instead of it being at home, what if it's in the characters relationship? Creative, eh? Oh well. So I have more to this chapter/short story just wait!