Perfect Strangers

Chapter 1

At six o'clock on the dot, Heather's eyes sprang open automatically; a routine that was drilled into her for years. As her mind came online, she became aware of two things. One, she's once again trapped in her sleeping boyfriend's branding and suffocating grip. Then two, her body was sore from his ruff and careless care last night. She could still feel so clearly the cold, uncaring touches all over her body, and the penetrating, tearing pain that never ended. She won't complain though. It was always like this since she agreed to sleep with him for the first time. It was a few months after they started dating in their first year of university two years ago. He had been the one to reach out and take interest in plain her that no one ever noticed.

Sneaking out of bed without waking him and wincing at the pain that shot through her as she stood on unstable legs, she went to get ready avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. She didn't like what she found in her reflection. A tired, defeated gaze, bruises and hickeys decorating her tanned skin like it was a canvas made for him to do as he pleased, and the lack of fat on her bones. Heather doesn't think she's ever been so skinny before.

Sighing, she stood in the middle of the small bathroom of his studio staring at the tiled, white floor like it would find a solution to everything. She had no right to complain. Derek had taught her that her duty as a girlfriend was to love him, please him, and obey him. If she disobeyed, she had to face the consequences. She didn't know any better. After all, things were the same at home. As long as she and her mother obeyed her father, he wouldn't hurt them. That's why she's always spent her time living up to his demands. Just studying and achieving to get his recognition only for it to never be enough. She wouldn't even have friends if it wasn't for Molly reaching out to her in childhood. Besides, Derek could be gentle and loving when she was good, or when he wasn't drunk. In times like that, she was able to tell herself it wasn't so bad because he really loved her. That was all she truly ever wanted.

To be loved.

Snapping out her thoughts with a start after hearing a loud knock, Heather turned toward the sound to find her boyfriend dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants, leaning against the bathroom entrance.

"Why so jumpy?" he questioned with a laugh. He almost sounded happy that she was reduced to a jumpy, scared mess. "You weren't there when I woke up, and you know how I hate not seeing you by my side when I wake up. You leaving already?" he asked, receiving a small nod as she kept her eyes downcast. "Alright, I'll see you tonight," he said, closing in on her until she was pressed up against the white wall and claiming her lips. Heather knew better to push him away even though his kisses felt more possessive than loving. She didn't like it.

When he pulled away to simply caress her face with his rough, cold hand, Heather swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke up. "Actually...." she paused, her voice small and trembling. "I was planning to stay at my flat with Molly tonight," she confessed, squeezing her eyes closed in fear when she felt his hand still.

"I don't think I heard you," he said darkly, gripping her chin painfully and forcing her to look him directly in the eyes. He was mad. "What are you going to do tonight?" he asked as Heather trembled. When he got like this, all he looked like to her was a demon bearing his fangs.

"M-Molly will worry..." she tried to reason in a smaller voice, almost a whisper.

"As if I care!" he snapped, letting go of her chin with such force that she was sent flying but in direction of the sharp edge of the sink where she knocked her head before landing in a sitting position against the wall.

Gripping her throbbing head, Heather held back her tears as she tried to clear her blurry vision.

"Now look at what you made me do," he said tutting sympathetic, before crouching to her level and checking where she was hurt his touch gentle.