Miscellaneous Prompts

Together

I had a dream similar to this, but I can't remember when, where, or why.

TW: Mention of abuse

He quickly entered her room and looked around for a good place to hide her present. He glanced over at her desk, perfectly organized. A drawer had been left open before she had gone to work. It was a perfect place.

Peering inside, he found a lone maroon book with no title. It looked like a journal of some kind. A page corner had been hastily folded to serve as a temporary bookmark.

He debated whether he should take a peek or not as he stared undecidedly at the cover. She wouldn't mind. After all, he loved her and desperately wanted to make her happy. And besides, it might just be a sketchbook. She was fond of sketching.

He opened the book to the saved page and began reading:

5/23 - I don't know why I'm still working at this place. The pay isn't enough to live off of. Soon I'm going to have to quit, but what if I can't find another job?

I don't know what I'm going to tell Brandon. I know he'll be worried about me. I don't understand why he even bothers. I'm worthless to him. I don't bring him any money, or popularity, or happiness. What good am I to him? What good does he see in me, a girl who's got an awful family, a crappy job, and the dullest personality on the face of the Earth? Just can't wrap my head around it.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he read the rushed handwriting. He didn't know she had felt that way. She was everything to him, and he was letting her think she wasn't. How had he not caught on to her thinking?

He knew that she loved him as well. Possibly more than he loved her, in fact. She had shown it on multiple occasions. But why would she believe herself a burden? She was the direct opposite, helping everyone as best as she could all the time. She was incredibly beautiful as well. She wasn't wealthy, but he didn't care about that at all; he had told her that before.

So why?

He was suddenly seized with a strong urge to confront her about the journal entry. Vowing to talk with her about it when she got back to her apartment, he left the room, leaving the present in the drawer with the journal on top.

>~~~<

He heard her key rattle in the lock for a second, pause, then rattle for a little longer. He had left the door unlocked so that she would know that he was there.

She opened the door. "Brandon? Are you here?" Her arms were full of groceries.

"Yeah. Let me help you for a second."

"No no, it's okay. I got it."

She walked over to the counter and let them down gently. He couldn't help but marvel at her beauty that day. Her windswept brown hair complimented her blue eyes well.

Rummaging in one of the bags, she asked him, "So, what're you doing here so early today? You normally get here after your shift."

"You know today's your birthday," he said. "I didn't forget."

She turned to him. "Really?"

"Really. But I'm also here for another reason."

"Oh?" She began sorting through the groceries, arranging them into groups to make it easier to put away. She was efficient like that.

He sat down on the stool across from her. "You see, I was trying to find a place to hide a present."

"Where were you thinking of hiding it?"

"I thought of leaving it on your desk. Then I found an open drawer that was the perfect size." She stiffened a little and almost immediately relaxed. He knew that it was forced, however. She knew about the journal and now knew what he was there to talk about.

He continued. "There was a little book at the bottom. I thought that it was just a small sketchbook, so I opened it up to the bookmarked page. Leah, why are you thinking like that?"

She looked away, as if ashamed. "Brandon, you weren't ever supposed to see that." Her voice was quiet and even, but he sensed the smallest bit of trembling.

"But I did. And now we're going to talk about it for a bit. Why do you believe those things about yourself? None of them are true in the slightest."

"They are, Brandon. You know that."

"No, I clearly don't. What I see in you is completely the opposite of what you see in yourself." He grasped her hands and gazed into her eyes. "I see a kind, compassionate young woman. She's beautiful, and kind, and ready to help anyone."

She gently pulled her hands away, tipping over a water bottle in the process. They both rushed to grab it. She got to it first, then he clasped it quickly after, closing his hands around hers. She looked up at him.

"Leah, I don't know what you're feeling. I'm not telepathic; I can't know unless you tell me. Please."

"I can't."

"No, you can." He let go of the water bottle, stood, and walked around the counter, still holding her hands. "Please, tell me what's wrong. I'll try to help as best as I can, okay? I promise."

Her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over, then hugged him tightly. She shook slightly in his embrace. He couldn't help but feel like crying himself.

She leaned back for a quick breath and mumbled, "I'm s-such a burden to you."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am. I'm always getting in your way with my selfish desires."

"Asking me to come over to your place so we can watch movies is not selfish. Why would you think that?" He suddenly suspected that someone had told her something. "Did someone tell you that?"

She stayed silent, which told him everything he needed. She never liked to lie and always did everything in her power to prevent it. One of those methods was never saying anything at all, which kept her from lying.

He looked into her eyes once again. They were red, but the blue was more brilliant than ever. "Who told you this?"

"I-I can't tell you."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because... I can't."

He was quiet for a second. "They threatened to do something, didn't they? What did they threaten to do? Who did they say they would hurt?"

She hesitated for a second, then spoke in the quietest voice he had ever heard. "You. And me, but mostly you. He- he said that he would torture you in front of me and force me to watch."

"He?" Her gaze dropped to the ground. Because of her slip-up, he was ninety-nine percent sure he knew who it was.

"It was your father, wasn't it?" Her father had abused her from a very young age. He kept her from telling others under pain of death. Brandon himself was the one who had discovered it in college when the two of them had gotten together. He confronted her old man one day and discovered that he had done many, many awful things to her that were still going on to that day, both physical and mental. He escaped and attempted to have him punished by the law, but by the time the police had arrived, he was gone.

That was the day he had vowed to always keep her safe, no matter the circumstances.

"Leah, why didn't you tell me this earlier? I can help you."

"How, Brandon? He's everywhere. I don't even know where he is. He just shoves letters under my front door for me to find when I get home."

He held her close and closed his eyes, her form against his comforting. He was unsure of the future but ready to give his life for her. After all, she was his everything. "We'll find a way. 

"Together."