Breo's POV
Checking the clock on the kitchen oven I look at the time again, it's 7:50pm and Nathan isn't home yet.
Exiting the kitchen I resume pacing up and down the hallway in front of the door, anticipating his return. The constant pacing doesn't help the racing in my chest but at least it's alleviating the sick feeling forming in my stomach.
When he comes home late that means he's drunk, or most of the time it does.
The sound of keys jingling in the lock cause me to snap out of my thoughts, and I hastily make my way to the front door, opening it so he can come in.
I maintain minimal eye contact as he enters, watching him sit on the staircase close to the door while I lock the door behind him.
He sits there patiently before I make my way over to him, removing his shoes and taking his bag from him to place it at the side of the staircase, like I do everyday.
"Dinner is in the m-microwave, should I get it?"
I question, growing frustrated with myself for stuttering. He hates when I do that.
I stand in front him with my head down after speaking, waiting for further instruction while my nerves cause a burning heat to spread throughout my face. It's better to do things this way- I don't want to make him angry by accident. He can be really nice when he's not drunk too, I miss when he's not drunk.
"So you finally decide to talk?" He questions in a flat tone, hindering me from being able to sense his emotion through his voice. His words are however slurred together. He's been drinking a lot.
"Sorry." I respond, head still down. I find myself being unable to speak when I'm nervous or feeling any intense emotion, which is frustrating for Nathan so I speak as much as I can. I want to be normal for him, he'd like me more if I was normal.
Relaxing into the stairs a little he leans back, running right hand through his shoulder length locs,
lowering hand while grazing his tan, tawny skin to scratch his trimmed beard.
"What did you make?" He questions again, standing up slowly as he does so. I step back slightly to give him room and realise I've done something wrong.
"Y-You said to order you pizz-" Before I can finish my sentence a sharp pain hits my cheek, I stumble backwards in response, resisting the urge to reach for it, since that'll only make it worse.
"It's Wednesday, when the fuck do I ever order take out on a Wednesday."
"We get take out on Wednesdays, we did last w-"
Another sharp pain hits my face and I begin to feel angry at myself for opening my mouth in the first place. I deserve this.
"I'm sorry." Is all I can manage to say while trying to blink away the tears from my eyes, wishing I could do things over tonight and get it right.
"I don't want your fucking apology." His deep voice echoes through the hallway as he turns to walk up the stairs, entering his room not long after. I follow him sheepishly and begin his night routine once I close the door behind me.
Taking off his clothes slowly I start at his trousers and he takes off his socks, while I fold his work clothes ready for laundry tomorrow. Turning back I assist him in unbuttoning his shirt, trying my best to concentrate on each loop so I don't make any mistakes. After a moment of struggling he sighs, pushing me away frustratedly.
"You're 22 years old and you still can't undo buttons." He says harshly. "Fucking retard." He continues under his breath. I try to ignore his words, but they sting as much as the pain in my cheek, resulting in me having to blink away tears once again. If there's one thing I shouldn't do, it's cry.
I don't respond and walk to the en suite bathroom connected to his room, turning on the shower so it's warm when he gets in.
I watch as he stands in the door way, towel wrapped around his waist. His large but bearish frame fills the entrance, more so in height than width. He doesn't even look at me before telling me to leave while he steps in the shower. I do as instructed and sit at the edge of his bed, waiting for him to return.
While I wait I look at Pooh bear in the corner of the room, sitting at the top of a dresser between two boxes. Looking at him sympathetically I stand up and walk to where he is, turning him slowly so he is facing the wall, feeling bad that he had to see and hear what just happened.
I move the boxes so they hide him ever so slightly, to protect him from any angry outbursts Nathan may have. If anything happens I don't want him to take it out on Pooh bear, it should be me instead.
Hearing the downpour of the shower stop I quickly return to the edge of the bed, waiting once more until the door opens. Nathan emerges slowly from a very steamy doorway with a towel once again around his waist- somewhat tucked under his slight tummy. He uses another to dry his hair.
Once in front of me he folds the towel he used to dry his hair slowly, placing it on the bed before positioning himself in front of me, using his index finger to tilt my head upwards so I am making eye contact with him.
"I didn't mean what I said before." He smiles at me and I look between his eyebrows, trying to maintain the guise that I'm comfortable with his lengthy eye contact.
He leans down slowly, gently pushing the downy coils of hair which rest below my eyebrows to the side my forehead- placing a soft kiss where my hair once was. I close my eyes as he does so, feeling a warmth spread though my chest, feeling content in his touch.
"It's okay." I whisper, smiling at him gently as I watch him sit next to me. He takes my hand in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb after interlocking his fingers with mine. I watch as his thumb moves back and forth at a steady pace, pausing to look up at him once I realise he's watching me.
"You feelin alright?" He asks, looking at me with genuine eyes, biting his lower lip gently. I nod in response.
"How are you?" I ask, trying to sound confident in my demeanour.
He laughs slightly and turns to me further, leaning in to kiss my lips gently. "I'm good, I'm good." I focus on the kiss and almost forget he even spoke. My heart rate increases substantially and I look at my hand in his once again before quickly making eye contact with him.
He pauses, caressing my flushed cheek with his surprisingly cold hand slowly. I sit in silence and allow the coolness of his fingertips to soothe the aftermath of downstairs' events- inevitably becoming futile as his gentle touch causes my face to burn up further.
"Tell me what you want." He says, the raspiness of his voice becoming more prevalent towards the end of his sentence.
"A- A kiss...please." My words shake as they practically fall out of my mouth. All I want I for him to hold me close and never let go- the love I feel towards him is unexplainable. However affection of this type is a means to an end for Nathan, and not an end in itself. There is a fine line between the tenderness I desire and what Nathan usually wants, and I'm starting to feel like that line is becoming thinner.
He kisses me once more, deepening it as he does so. Stoking my sore cheek with his left hand while he tucks my coily tresses behind my ear, resting his hand on the back of my neck.
I allow the kiss to deepen, wanting to feel loved by him, like he cares about me. I place my free hand on his bare chest as he moves closer, breaking the kiss to place a small peck on my lips and smiling before returning to kiss me as before.
"Fuck." He whispers, letting go of my left hand to cup my face again, with both hands this time. Placing soft kisses on my neck as he trails his fingers down towards my collar bone.
I know I don't want this, but I'll keep going. I want him to be happy, if he's happy then it doesn't matter what I want.
I look up to the ceiling and try to settle my breathing, hoping he mistakes my restless breathing for arousal.
Suddenly, his soft kisses become harsh, and I start to feel teeth pinching my skin. I stay still, waiting for the moment to pass but the occasional bites become constant and rough. Stinging my neck in manner I fear will leave me with many marks.
"Nathan..." I try to speak, hoping it will draw him away from my very sore neck and we could take a break, but that was unrealistic to expect.
He ignores my call out to him and continues to be rough with me. However I can't blame him, I haven't told him to stop.
Nathan's sharp bites turn back to soft kisses, as he lets go of my neck and stands up in front of me again. However his stance is different than before, it feels ulterior this time.
Sitting nervously with his groin in front of my face I sit and close my eyes, trying my best to suppress the panic I feel taking over me. My arms stay at my side and I open my eyes for a moment, staring at the towel folded around his waist, hoping that in the next few seconds he'll change his mind, that he won't want me to do this for him anymore.
"Don't waste my time." He reaches to the back of my neck and pushes my head closer to him, spreading his fingers through the layers of hair at the back of my head, most likely for leverage.
"Nathan...please." Is all I can manage to say, blinking away my tears to stop the lump forming in my throat- making me almost unable to speak. Another thing that he hates.
"Don't make me angry." I see his fist clench after the word 'don't' and realise there's nothing I can do. The sooner I start the sooner I can finish, and then it'll be over.
Pulling at his towel gently I unravel it, watching it fall to the floor as his full length stands erect in front of me.
Fear overwhelms me and I shut my eyes, unable to open them while a pain builds up in my chest. My breathing becomes heavy and uncontrollable and I can't move.
"Why do you always fucking do this." Nathan says, before I feel my body being pushed violently onto the bed. My eyes stay closed and I make things worse by doing so. He hits me in my face again, hard, so hard it causes my ears to ring.
"Look at me!" He shouts into my face, while I feel him pulling down my trousers. My eyes immediately open once I realise what is happening. I can barely speak but still make an attempt to plead my case.
"Please...no." Tears flow from my eyes as I make no attempt to blink them away, I'm past that point. He pins himself on top of me, his large frame weighing down on my wrists which are being held above my head with his hand. While he continues to remove my underwear with the other.
"No no please!" I call out, kicking my legs to stop him from taking them off but it doesn't work, it only causes him to get angrier. Pulling my underwear harshly it rips from one leg. He leaves it to dangle from my other ankle before he grabs my throat, hard.
I try to take in a gasp of air before he does so but it doesn't help, my breathing becomes more erratic as I try to loosen my hands from his grip to pull him away from my throat.
While I struggle he positions himself between my legs, making it impossible for me to close them without pulling him in closer to me.
"Nathan no." Is all I manage to say in a whisper while he enters me, harshly.
I'm not wet, I'm not aroused, just scared. As the repeated thrusts cause my body to jolt up while he deepens into me.
It hurts, it doesn't even hurt, it burns- but no words come out of my mouth, just pain coated whimpers and silent tears, muffled by his hand over my mouth as he does what he pleases to me.
He continues until he's satisfied, and the burning sensation between my legs spreads throughout my abdomen as I lay there lifelessly, wishing it would stop, hoping he'd just finish and leave me here to cry.
I hear his ragged breaths and moans of arousal in between the sound of the mattress springing back and forth in tandem with his thrusts.
Tears flow again, harder as I close my eyes again tightly, opening them again to see I've woken up in a cold sweat.
Even when I try to forget, he follows me in my dreams.