3 (jaylor) perpetual darkness and stolen sequin smiles

chapter nine.

She couldn't believe that Adam wasn't speaking to her. She sat staring out the window, her thoughts running wild. What the fuck was she supposed to do? She didn't want to get him to start talking, because what happened if he got mad at what she said and then he hit her again? That fear seemed to loom over her at every waking hour of the day. It seemed to follow her. The only time that she didn't worry about him hurting her was in front of other people. That seemed to be the only way to reassure herself that he wasn't going to harm her. She knew that he would be screwed if anyone found out about it - knew that his career would plummet. And the hard part of it all? Was that a part of her still loved him. He'd brought a smile to her lips when she hadn't found one in years. He'd lifted her up, before he had turned her world upside down and Taylor couldn't ignore that. He'd ignored everything that the media had been saying about her, he'd assured her that they weren't true. He'd helped her to find strategies to ignore and cope with he media. He had seemingly stuck with her during the worst fucking months of her life.

Yeah, he fucked up sometimes.  But didn't everyone? She found herself asking that question more often each day. He hit her once, and yes, that memory was still frequent in her mind. But he'd kissed her, told her it wouldn't happen again. And she had chosen to believe him. It was no surprise to her, that she'd have to deal with the consequences of that belief for the rest of her life.

"How much did you drink?" Adam asked her the moment they walked through the door. Taylor was really beginning to regret letting him move in with her. Really beginning to regret all over her questionable actions. "I can't believe that you'd be so irresponsible."
Taylor pulled a face as she sat down on the couch. "Excuse me? You drink too, Mister." She was pushing her luck - she could tell that he was fucking angry with her already. But when she was drunk, her words couldn't stop. She couldn't stop them falling from her lips, couldn't stop them even when she knew that they were words that would make Adam mad. Most of her words did make him mad. And it wasn't always the physical things he did, he didn't always hit her when she said or did something he didn't like. Sometimes all he'd do was walk out of the room, slamming the door shut with such force that it gave Taylor a headache for the rest of the day. Sometimes he would refuse to speak to her, much like he'd done tonight. She kept trying to decide which reaction was the worst. More recently, he'd start to threaten to kill himself if she said something about leaving - if they'd gotten into an argument. He'd tell Taylor that he was going to kill himself and that it would be all her fault, that he couldn't live without her. She decided that was the worst. She always got so scared of him when he did that, when he told her that he loved her and that she would have to tell his family that he loved them too. The first time he'd threatened that, she'd had a panic attack. Taylor didn't know that at the time, and she only knew that now because she'd been having panic attacks frequently. She couldn't decide what was causing them - but something that played a big role in it was the fact that her relationship with Adam was just so up in the air.
"That's different." Adam took off his coat, and leaned against the wall in front of her. He had that fire in his eyes, that same fire he'd had when he had hit her.
"Um, no it's not-" Taylor tried to say, but he cut her off. She was feeling tired, and she tried to get up and go to bed. She stumbled a few steps, before Adam locked an arm around her. "Let go." She slurred, trying to push him away. His lips were moving down he neck, and she groaned. "No, I don't want to do this now. I want to sleep."
"You'll enjoy it, baby. I promise." Adam kissed her collarbone, kissed the crook of her neck as she tried to push him off of her. "See? Doesn't that feel good?"
"No." Taylor tried to push him away. "Adam." She couldn't even see straight. Couldn't even move properly. Adam was fiddling with the zip on her skirt, and she turned around to face him, trying to get him to stop. "I don't want to do this, Adam. Stop." Her voice was cold, and she was suddenly sobered up.

She wished that she hadn't been able to feel it. Feel his hands wandering over her body. Feel his breath against her face, his lips against hers. She didn't want this. She wished that she'd drank more. She wished that she had been more drunk, and then maybe she wouldn't have remembered it. Maybe she wouldn't have remembered those hands, those breaths, or the countless times that she'd told him to stop and he'd just insisted that she was enjoying it. She wasn't. Not. One. Bit.