Burnt Out

☆Who did this to you?☆

Ray

Hands everywhere. 

Touching and grabbing me. It didn't feel good. It felt suffocating. I tried to move my limbs but they felt too heavy. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't move. Tears stung my eyes as I begged for it to stop, but the relentless assault continued. Why didn't he stop?

I jolted awake. 

I looked around with frantic breaths, relief flooding in as I realized I was alone. It was just a nightmare, Ray.

Wait.

This isn't my room.

I strained to recall the events of the previous day. Zeek, Hayden, vodka. I vaguely remembered hugging him and being carried by him. A groan escaped me, hopefully I didn't say or do anything too embarrassing. 

I dragged myself out from the cozy embrace of the bed and retrieved my discarded hoodie from the floor, which I had removed sometime during the night. As I slipped into my hoodie, a sharp intake of breath behind me made me yank it down hastily.

Turning around, I found Hayden's unwavering gaze fixed upon me, his deliberate approach indicating a seriousness that left me uneasy. "Ray," he uttered with a quiet yet firm tone.

My discomfort intensified, I wrung my hands together as I met his gaze, silently urging him to speak.

"How did you get that bruise?" His question hung in the air, and my breath caught, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs. There was no plausible denial for the conspicuous dark mark, but revealing the truth was out of the question.

Lie.

Lie like you always do, Ray.

My thoughts played a relentless game of taunts, the persistent voices in my head echoing in an unyielding loop.

I averted my eyes, feigning nonchalance. "I got it while boxing. It's nothing."

His jaw clenched, eyes hardening with an intensity I hadn't witnessed before. His scrutiny traveled down my face, settling on my neck. The fury in his gaze intensified, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Who did this to you?" He growled.

Fuck.

The faint marks on my neck, remnants of Jake's attempt to strangle me, had slipped my mind. I hadn't anticipated Hayden noticing. He lifted his hand, grazing my neck with a gentleness that contrasted the rage in his eyes. I instinctively flinched, making him immediately withdraw his hand. His hand dropped back to his side, clenched into a fist, an unspoken storm brewing within him.

"Ray."

"I've encountered  violent opponents who can't accept defeat more times than you might imagine," I mumbled.

Skepticism was etched all over his face, showing that he didn't believe a word I had said. He opened his mouth to speak but he was abruptly halted by his mother's call summoning us for breakfast.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized that I was holding.

His gaze lingered on me, a silent contemplation apparent in his eyes. Finally, he broke the silence. "There's a spare toothbrush on the bathroom counter."

"I'll be downstairs waiting for you," he added, moving towards the door.

Sighing, I walked towards the bathroom. As I mechanically brushed my teeth, I stared at my disheveled reflection in the mirror. Dark circles encircled my eyes, my complexion drained of its usual colour. My unruly hair, a constant state of chaos, remained untouched—I simply didn't have the energy to bother fixing it.