𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 | 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒚

Warning: slight abuse
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I was jolted awake by the front door slamming. I groaned and rubbed my eyes before sitting up in bed.

Boris and I moved in together almost 6 months ago and lately we've been struggling financially. He's been out drinking almost every night for a month now, making our financial situation worse from all the money he spends on alcohol.
I've tried to get him to stop and stay home but he ends up leaving when I fall asleep.

Truth is, I miss him. I miss waking up with him by my side. I miss him insisting on making breakfast for us in the morning. I miss falling asleep on the couch in his arms and him carrying me to our bed.

I listened to the commotion coming from the other room for a moment before annoyingly throwing the duvet back and getting out of bed.

I stepped into the entrance and was met with Boris holding on the wall trying to stumble into the living room. He didn't notice me until he knocked over the ceramic dish that sat on the table by the front door.

"What the fuck, Boris!" I exclaimed.

He instantly looked up at me, with his messy curls falling over one of his eyes, his lips slightly parted and his eyes glossy.

He looked back down at the shattered pieces on the floor.
"Just stupid dish anyway." He scoffed.

"I made that, asshole."

He rolled his eyes at me and kicked the pieces to the side out of his way and continued to stagger to the living room.

"What the fuck is your problem? I'm ti-" I started as I followed behind him.

"You." He muttered as he almost tripped over his own feet and had to hold on to the wall once again.
"ты меня раздражаешь, слезай с моей спины" He mumbled as I began to reply.

"Don't try to blame this on me. You did this to yourself, Boris. Just look at you!" I argued.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?"

He was never this hostile when drunk.

"No! You think drinking every night is gonna help us somehow? I'm tired of this shit. You're gonna end up just like your dad-"

As soon as those words came out of my mouth, Boris turned around, raised his hand back, and slapped me across my face. It was hard enough to whip my head to the side.

The crack of my delicate skin echoed off the walls. I looked back at him in disbelief as I clutched my cheek in shock and pain.

Tears welled in my eyes. This must have brought Boris back to reality because his face suddenly softened at the sight of me.

"Detka...I-" He began as he stepped closer to me.

"Get away from me." I muttered.

I brought my hand down from my stinging cheek and used both of my hands to push Boris' chest back, which made his drunken body fall to the floor.

I walked back into the bedroom as he struggled to get up. I slammed the door and locked it before sitting down on the bed. I put my head in my hands as I cried.
I winced at the stinging feeling of my hot tears running down my cheek.