Project: 022 (Eddie Munson Fanfiction)

Gathering & Fainting

 Mentions of MC running away as a teen, Mentions of forgetting to eat and getting dizzy, Descriptions of abusive boyfriend (Not Eddie DW), Mentions of past domestic issues, Descriptions of bruises, Name calling, Swearing, Blood, Descriptions of memory loss, Description of fainting, descriptions of nose bleeds. Each part will have it's own warnings! If I missed anything, Let me know!

---------------------------------------------------------

Allora's P.O.V

The hot coffee burns my tongue as I drink it, my eyes shut tight as I listen to my Ex spewing bullshit on the other end of the phone about why I can't show up to get my things today, or tomorrow, or the day after. I set the mug down on the kitchen island in front of me, swallowing hard as I try my very, very hardest to keep my composure.

If I yell, I don't get my shit back.

"Matt, I'm still on that lease for another week," I barely notice footsteps behind me as I grip the side of the counter with the hand not holding my phone, my heartbeat pounding in my ears with every word that comes out of his stupid mouth. "You can't legally tell me I can't get my things that I fuc- that I paid for."

"Watch me."

I click the button to mute myself, a loud, guttural groan ripping out of my throat as I scream into my hands before taking a long, deep breath. I swallow again, pausing before I unmute myself to bring the phone back up to my ear.

"Matthew--"

"Did you just mute yourself to scream?" His voice is a mixture between amused and pissed off, fueling whatever fire is making my blood boil. "I fucking know you, Al. Don't try to act all calm and collected, we both know you have your nails halfway in your palms by now. They bleeding yet?"

"You are such a fucking asshole, you know that?" The fact that he's right makes me angrier, the deep red and purple curved lines in the palms of my hand from where I was clutching my fist so hard painfully obvious in this moment. "I should have left you years ago, you are really so pathetic-"

The screen lights up against my cheek, and the silence on the other end tells me without having to look that he hung up on me. I slam my phone down on the counter, cringing at the small crack I hear from my screen.

I take as deep of a breath as I can, both of my hands on the cool counter as I look up at the ceiling, blowing all of the air out of my lungs at once in a poor attempt to control my breathing. I know he was just saying that shit to make me mad, to make me blow up so he had an excuse to hang up on me, an excuse to not let me show up again.

And it fucking worked.

I've been here for weeks. Each day I tell him I need him to let me in, that I have a place for my stuff now and need it back. I even called the cops to have them let me in, but they didn't fucking show up.

So you know what? The next day I called them again. They didn't show up that time either.

Third time's a charm? No.

I don't even like the cops, let alone did I want to fucking call them day after day trying to get my belongings back. And, yet again, they where entirely unhelpful. I had given up after the third time, and had resorted to attempting to annoy him until he relents, and hope he gives me my stuff back. 

"That sounded like a fun call," Eddie laughs, pouring his own cup of coffee. "Glad I'm not the only one you talk to like that. That was brutal."

"Not today, please." I shake my head, not having the energy to argue, and afraid I'm too angry that, if I do, I'll start saying shit that's a little too mean.