☼ t w e n t y - o n e ☼

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/// MY GIRLFRIEND'S BITCHIN' [cracks knuckles] CAUSE I ALWAYS SLEEP IN [punches window] SHE'S ALWAYS SCREAMIN' [back flips out of window] WHEN SHE'S CALLIN' HER FRIENDS [round house kicks stop sign] SHE'S KINDA HOT THOUGH [throws self into a volcano] ///

She touched the bruise around her eye lightly, wincing. Sighing, she dabbed concealer gently on the bruises on her face, and neck.

He said he wouldn't do this anymore. He promised.

Sighing again, she straightened her slightly broken glasses and exited the bathroom, hoping he was gone. She felt tired. And not that physical tiredness (although she did feel that), but it was a mental kind of exhaustion. Emotionally drained. She poured her everything into this supposed man and all he did in return was beat her down in more ways than one. What was she supposed to do? Fight back? Leave? Could she do those things?

When she approached the living room with caution, she breathed a sigh in relief when she saw it was indeed empty. She sat down on the couch, deciding she had to end this. He'd just end up killing her one day if he kept this up. If she kept dealing with this. She finally understood she didn't deserve any of this. She was too good for him, and she needed someone who was worth it.

She heard the front door creak open, then slam shut.

"Meredith?" He called out, anger and liquor lacing his voice. She blinked back a few tears and stood up, her hands trembling. She needed to do this, for the sake of her sanity and safety.

"Dylan we need to talk," she spoke, her voice cracking. He barked out a laugh, tossing his jacket onto the kitchen counter.

"What we need is for you to get your fat ass in this kitchen and cook up some dinner," he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as if he was challenging her. Anger flared in her for a split second, but it quickly diminished when he frowned at her.

"No," she said, standing her ground.

"No?" He questioned, shoving off of the counter and slowly walking towards her. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I m-mean we need t-to talk," she shook with fear, wanting to cry and run away. He stood in front of her while she stared down at her feet, not willing to make eye contact. She could smell the Jack seeping out of his pores.

"What is there to talk about?" He asked warily. His hand slide up to the back of her neck and he wound her pony tail in his hand, yanking her head back. She looked anywhere but into his brown eyes.

"I-I..." She couldn't say it. She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"'I-I-I', are you fucking retarded?" He huffed, shoving her aside and turning back to the kitchen.

"I can't do this anymore, Dylan," she squeaked out. He stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around.

"Right," he snorted.

"I mean it this time."

"No, you don't." His eyebrows furrowed together.

"I do," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. She ignored all the concealer that was now on her hands. "I'm leaving you."

"No," he said slowly.

She stared blankly at the space above his head, trying to control her emotions.

"I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. I can't do this anymore. I don't deserve this."

Dylan's nostrils flared. He charged at her, backhanding her sharply. She made no sound as her head whipped around, the tingle of the hit already rising.

"Fine. Get out. You'll be back."

Except he was wrong.

She never went back.

----

See, the thing is, when you're young, not much matters. When you find something you care about, or love, then you hold onto it for dear life. Cause that's all you've got. That little sliver of fantasy. And as you get older, things get more serious and real. Things get hard. You start caring too much about things you shouldn't care about, you start wording things the wrong way and everyone ends up hating you. Everything just becomes this giant pile of, well, shit. In the end you just have to flow with whatever may happen and let your mind be free. Because freedom is a state of mind.

I've been thinking a lot lately about taking chances, and how it's really just about overcoming your fears. Cause the truth is, every time you take a big risk in your life, no matter how it ends up, you're always glad you took it, right? Extraordinary things are always hiding in places people never expect to look.

"Just text  him," Ashton groaned to me. He was sprawled out on my bed as I hid under my covers complaining about how much I missed Michael.

"If he wanted to talk to me, he would," I retorted. Ashton scoffed.

"You guys are so annoying. Both of you are like 'boo hoo I miss him/her cry me a river.'"

I flipped the covers off of me. "Did you just make a JT reference?"

Ashton groaned again. "Look, okay you know what one quote? The one like, 'unless it's mad, crazy love, it's a waste of time cause there's too many simple things in the world and love shouldn't be one of them'."

I snorted. "I think you mean "unless it's mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it's a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love shouldn't be one of them."

"Yes!"

"Then yes, I know the quote." I chuckled. "But love? Isn't that, y'know, stretching things further than they are?"

"Life's all about taking risks. You never know if you never try."


///////

(a/n)


fucking ashton and luke in that gif though i'm crying

can we talk about SKH for a sec????

i mean it's such a beautiful song with such a good meaning behind it wow i'm so proud of those idiots (song is in the media if you haven't heard it yet for some unknown reason)

ok so i think i'm gonna do an uploading schedule!!!! i think sundays and thursdays, cause i think i upload too fast which causes me to feel obligated to write shit up quickly which results in poopy chapters and we all don't want that amirite

anyway, i hope everyone is doing well!! :-)

the wattpad app finally added the ability to bold and italicize holy shit it's about time

❤️don't be a silent reader❤️


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