Trauma Bond

Chapter One: Time to Get Out

(TW: Mentions of implied rape and physical abuse.)

You just pulled into the driveway of your house after leaving work, parking your older model black sedan. You worked at a local coffee shop, where you earned a decent living and you enjoyed the peak busy times because it kept your mind occupied. Today you had worked overtime and you were exhausted. You sighed as you opened your door, stepping out of the vehicle. 

You made your way to the front door, the cool air nipping at your face, causing your cheeks to lightly flush. You weren't wearing a jacket, since it was still warm outside during the day. You weren't anticipating on  working so late, so you hadn't thought to bring one, as the coolness of the night air caressed your frame. You made your way to the front door, where you were greeted by Brad, your boyfriend of two years, who didn't seem very happy to see you. "(Y/N)! You were supposed to be home 4 hours ago and you never answered my calls or texts. What the hell is going on?" You swallowed, you knew he was going to respond to you like this, but you didn't have time to let him know you were going to be late because you were busy your entire shift. "I'm sorry, Brad, I didn't keep up with the time. It was busy all day and I couldn't leave the rest of my team hanging, we're really understaffed right now." You internally prayed that he would listen to you this time. You winced as he grabbed a glass vase off of the counter top and promptly threw it across the room, it hit the wall and shattered, causing the glass to break and the bright purple flowers and water that were in it to hit the floor. You were thankful he didn't throw it at you this time, something that has happened often in the past. He put his face up close to yours, where you strongly smelled the distinct scent of liquor on his breath. Typical.

 "I haven't had dinner tonight because of you. You have no idea how selfish you're being, (Y/N). You could have at least let me know what was going on so that I could order some food for delivery, now everything's closed," he yelled.

 You quietly exhaled, your voice shaking. "I'm sorry Brad, you're right. It won't happen again. I'll go ahead and make you some din-" 

"It's too late, (Y/N). I'm not hungry anymore." He huffed, walking away and slamming the door to your shared bedroom. Normally you would have ran after him and apologized profusely, but you didn't have it in you anymore. This past year with him has been hell. You've recently decided that you've had enough, looking for an opportunity to finally leave. 

You began to think about the beginning of your relationship with Brad. You had met him in one of your classes in your last semester of college, where you two had began dating. You both graduated after dating for a few months and quickly moved in together. He was an amazing guy, he took you out on dates every weekend, showered you with flowers and gifts. You two had great chemistry, he understood your sense of humor and would constantly make you laugh. This continued for a year, until Brad lost his best friend and a switch within him flipped. Grief overtook him, to the point to where he would always have a drink in his hand when he wasn't working. You rationalized the situation and understood that he was hurt, so you brushed it off. He would try to make things up to you by initiating sex with you, where you would accept just to appease him even though you really didn't want to, and that seemed to put your mind at ease for a short time. The sex never lasted long and you never came, he only chased his own release. You couldn't remember the last time you had meaningful sex with him.

You recently opened your eyes to the situation and what it was doing to your mental health. You became worried that he was going to try to have sex with you tonight. You dreaded it and didn't want to give in this time, so you laid down on the couch to try to get some rest.

An hour later, you woke up to Brad picking you up off of the couch and moving you to the bedroom. You kept your eyes closed to avoid conversation with him, making him think that you were still asleep. He laid you down, quickly unzipping his pants and pulling all of his clothes off. He got on top of you, propping his forearms on either side of your head, and proceeded to kiss you on your neck and down your stomach. He used to be muscular, as he was very active before his best friend passed. His muscles had shrunk some, still a bit prevalent because of his physical labor job. As he trailed kisses up your neck and jaw, your eyes suddenly opened dramatically at the realization of what he was doing. You wiggled your way out of his grasp, quickly darting to the bathroom. You could hear is groans of frustration, but he thankfully didn't say anything to you.