Trapped In Flames (A Shivian fic)

Landline | 1 ❥

content warning, domestic violence

A small smirk slithered across Siobhan Serpent's face as she watched the dark haired woman before her walk away. Her mind was swimming after the brief (but intense) conversation she'd just had with Vivian. She let her thoughts wander as she walked towards her car.
Nobody, not even Roger, spoke to Siobhan unless they absolutely had to, and here was this mysterious stranger catching her at her most irritable moment, and not only seemingly implying that she actually wanted a friendship with Siobhan, but she also managing to coax a smile out of her even with Roger's angry messages freshly on her mind.
She leisurely began to walk back to her car.

Carefully, Siobhan combed her hands through her linen blonde hair, waiting a moment to glance back down at Vivian's landline number written neatly on a scrap of paper, before she finally inserted her shining silver keys into the ignition of her new car and began to slowly drive off.
As Siobhan drove closer and closer to home, the warm buzz that flushed through her veins from her talk with Viv quickly began to fade, until she found herself resentfully dragging herself towards her front door, wearing the same defeated scowl that she had done earlier that morning- simply just the idea of entering the same room as Roger made her heart feel heavy and the backs of her eyes prick with tears.
She was so, very tired.

Luckily, Roger didn't given her arrival much notice (despite the bombardment of texts demanding to know when she'd be coming home), and so Siobhan was easily able to swoop upstairs to the bedroom her and her partner shared.
Her first thought had been to put Viv's number by the landline as soon as she got in, but she'd quickly realised that Roger would easily see it and most likely tear it apart immediately. So, instead she delicately folded it and placed it inside of an empty golden lipstick tube on her vanity.
She would call as soon as Roger was out of the house.

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"Vivian?" The same smirk as earlier returned to Siobhan's face as the sound of ringing was replaced with a soft rustling across the phone line.
Finally, Roger had gone. Finally, she could be alone and talk to Viv.
"I told you you don't have to call me that," a soft chuckle flooded the line, "call me Viv. Sounds like the noise my car makes, remember?"
"How could I forget," Siobhan purred back, "okay. Viv." Heat rushed to her cheeks at the memory of her second encounter with Vivian, in the car park.
"Are we alone, or will Mr. Relentless be appearing anytime soon so I can give him what for?" Vivian asked playfully.

Siobhan smiled to herself, she'd always believed that nobody would ever take a second to sympathise with her and try and understand just how suffocated she felt being tied to Roger, and Autumn's snide comment earlier about the lack of love between herself and Roger had only fuelled this belief, making her feel even more trapped and alone; but Vivian seemed to be genuinely appreciative of how difficult it was to be so helpless when stuck with somebody so powerful and controlling.
Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over Siobhan. Who was she to be sat here, throwing shade on Roger with a woman she barely knew.
Yes, he was relentless, and yes Siobhan would leave him in a heartbeat if that was ever a possibility, but he did treat her well, didn't he? The ridiculously expensive new car and the luxury massages that he payed for each week made up for the nights where she would be left alone on the floor in endless streams of tears after he'd hurt her, surely?

"Don't call him that, you have no idea about the dynamic between me and my partner so don't talk about things that you don't know anything about." Siobhan snapped coldly. She didn't know why she was defending Roger, but something inside her felt deeply uncomfortable at the idea of uttering anything bad about him. Scared, maybe.
"Oh, OK then." replied Viv shortly.
Siobhan sighed and brought her hand up to her head. She didn't know why she always had to lash out at people the way she did, and she wouldn't blame Viv if she hung up there and then.
The silence grew louder.
"Do you want to talk about something else?" Viv asked, her voice softer now.
"Please" Siobhan breathed, the colour returning to her cheeks as she clung to the comfort she found in the gentleness of Viv's low voice.

The hours flew by as Siobhan and Vivian spoke about anything and everything going on in their lives. It was nice for Siobhan to be able to blow off some steam, and rant about Marjorie's overwhelming amount of empathy that lead her to be unable to understand how any of Siobhan's decisions would help the nursery in the longterm. Or rant about the leering ex staff member Adam who was sending indecent images to the staff members, making her grow less and less sure that there was any good left in the male population.
Siobhan also found it nice to hear somebody else talk about their life, and actually hold any sort of conversation with her that wasn't through gritted teeth.

Although, it was almost 10 o'clock, meaning that Roger would soon be back from the pub, and he probably wouldn't be in the best mood.
"I hate to cut this short, Viv, but I probably need to go soon. My partner will be coming home shortly." Siobhan groaned, the last few hours had been such an escape for her, and the idea of returning back to her horrible reality and having to face Roger soon (who would most likely be drunk) made her roll her eyes unhappily.
"Not so fast, Shibby," Vivian laughed, "we never arranged a day and time for that coffee date."
"How do you know about that nickname," Siobhan replied, rolling her eyes despite the smirk that was seated on her face, "and how about Saturday at 2?"
"Sounds great, see you then SHIBBY, but no mobiles remember?!" Vivian said, mockingly. Siobhan scoffed.
"Of course. Bye, Viv" she replied, hanging up and savouring the comforting feeling that she felt swirling around in her stomach.

It didn't last long though, she barley had time to scurry upstairs and hide Viv's number in the lipstick tube once again before she heard the sound of an extremely intoxicated Roger stumbling through the doorway. Siobhan's heart thudded loudly like somebody was beating a drum in her chest. She yearned for the safety and pleasure she had felt whilst talking with Viv, which had now been replaced with an all too familiar feeling of terror.
She slipped into the bathroom and quietly locked the door. If Roger was drunk enough, he might not even notice that she wasn't there. If he wasn't, she'd just have to leave the bathroom and withstand his wrath.
Thankfully, Roger had passed out on the sofa, but she stayed locked in the bathroom all night anyways, too scared of stepping on the wrong floorboard and making a sound that would awaken him and his anger.

Siobhan had never seen herself as being at risk of ending up in an abusive relationship. She was nothing like the 'perfect victims' she would see represented on TV and in the media, and given how detached from her family she'd always felt growing up, she thought she could look after herself perfectly well. She'd never even been in a relationship before that had independent/ dependent roles, which in her mind made the risk higher, but somehow she realised that she'd become uncomfortably reliant on her partner, giving him all the more control over her.

Things with Roger had happened so slowly that she had no way to stop it, and so quickly that she never saw it coming.

The first time her hurt her physically, she'd fallen apart completely. Sobbing and rocking backwards and forwards in a ball on the ground, completely unreachable and unable to even process what he'd done. He'd cradled her and told her he loved her, promised her it would never happen again, that he would do anything, buy her everything, for her forgiveness.
Apart from during sex, Roger and Siobhan barley touched. It had always been that way, they'd never been a particularly affectionate couple, so his action of taking her in his arms in such a vulnerable state had convinced Siobhan to believe him. He did love her. He was sorry. She would forgive him.
Then, things started happening more and more. For months after the first incident, he didn't hurt her. Physically.
Slowly, the occasional rude, passive aggressive comments that Roger made would make became much more frequent, and much more malicious.

The second time he hurt her, he left her alone completely, shaking on the living room floor.
Two mornings later, she woke up to a designer handbag on the kitchen counter, with a small note beside it reading 'siobhan' in scruffy handwriting.
After this occasion, she learnt never to talk of the things he did to her, so -just like when she was a teenager- she once again became silent, speaking to Roger only when he spoke to her first.

Siobhan wrapped her arms around herself, seeking comfort that she knew she'd never have.
At least she knew she had Saturday to look forward to, and at least she knew that she was safe. For tonight, anyways.
She glanced around and saw nothing but darkness, so why was it that she could feel fire so strongly licking the surface of her skin. She felt so trapped in the invisible fire around her, and she had no way of escaping the blaze.

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