story prompts.

prompt # 4

As soon as I stepped through the front door, the weariness of the day weighed heavily on my shoulders. The familiar comfort of our bed beckoned, and I found solace in its warmth and softness. A contented sigh escaped my lips, only to be met with the gentle laughter of Estelle, my girlfriend, resonating in the room. I called her Rina, a nickname reserved for moments like these.

Estelle's voice cut through the air. "That tired, huh, baby?" I responded with a nonchalant hum, reliving the torturous lecture with my irritable professor in my mind. My girlfriend's smile softened the edges of my fatigue, and she disappeared into our closet in search of her pajamas.

As she sifted through her clothes, my attention was drawn to a dark mark on her left hip. My curiosity piqued, and I sat up to get a closer look. "What is that?" I inquired, my gaze fixed on the peculiar discoloration. She turned to face me, her eyes meeting mine, and a realization dawned on her. A flicker of panic crossed her features as she swiftly removed her pajamas, heading towards the bathroom. "Nothing!" she exclaimed.

Concern etched my face, and I rose to follow her. Holding her wrist gently to prevent her escape, I lifted her top, revealing a fresh bruise that seemed to darken as the room dimmed. "How did you get that?" My voice betrayed my growing worry. She avoided eye contact, offering a feeble explanation: "I just ran into something."

I couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something. "You're lying," I asserted, taking one of her hands in mine. "I know you. You don't make eye contact when you lie." She sighed in defeat, and I pressed for the truth. "Is there someone hurting you? A bully? A mean girl?" The questions tumbled out, and she shook her head, her eyes dropping to the floor. "If I tell you, please promise me you will not be mad," she pleaded.

I sighed, conceding to her request. "I can't promise until I know," I replied. After a moment of hesitation, she confessed, "My Dad." Anger surged through me, but I held back my rage for her sake. "Why in the hell would he do that?" I questioned, struggling to fathom a father harming his own daughter.

"Don't worry, baby," she reassured me. When she revealed that it had happened the day before, my concern deepened. "I went to see him, and things got out of hand," she explained, her eyes reflecting the pain she had endured. My heart sank.

"Is that why you have a scar as well?" I asked gently. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she hesitated before admitting the truth. "No." I studied her, determined to understand. "I know every inch of your body, and I know that scar wasn't there before," I stated. She reluctantly nodded, confirming my suspicions. "Why would you keep it from me?" I asked, reaching out to reassure her.

"I didn't want to worry you," she confessed. "You're my girlfriend; of course, I would be concerned if someone touched you, Rina," I replied, my worry transforming into a protective resolve. "I can handle it myself; he's my father, after all," she asserted, cupping my cheek. Shaking my head, I emphasized, "But no father in his right mind would hit his own daughter, much less give them bruises and scars."

I extended my pinky finger, a silent pact forming between us. "The next time this happens, tell me immediately," I demanded. She nodded, wrapping her pinky around mine. "Promise?" I pressed. "Thank you, baby," she whispered with a smile, sealing our pact with a soft kiss. "I love you," she uttered, and I reciprocated, "I love you as well," grateful for the trust she had placed in me.