song: mad world by jasmine thompson.
for @sammie100212
TRIGGER WARNING
+++
all around me are familiar faces;
worn out places, worn out faces.
bright and early for the daily races;
going nowhere, going nowhere.
You sat down on the park bench, observing everyone. Most of the people here, you knew. You knew their names, and you were acquaintances with all of them. You look at your watch: 6:30. You'd have to go home soon, at 7.
You felt the chair creak a little as someone sat beside you. You tilted your head a little, and saw someone. Someone you don't know. You turn your head, and started introducing yourself, "Hey, I'm [Y/N]. . .I haven't seen you around before?"
He turned to you and smiled. His dark hair and blue eyes made a perfect match. "Hi there, I'm Dick Grayson."
You smiled, reaching up to push back a strand of hair. Your sweater's sleeve fell while you did so, exposing your right wrist.
"What's that?" Dick's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a death grip. "Do you. . .Why?"
the tears are filling up their glasses;
no expression, no expression.
hide my head i want to drown my sorrows;
no tomorrow, no tomorrow.
You forcefully pulled your wrist back, glaring daggers at Dick. "I have to go," you said, abruptly standing up. The tears threatened to spill but you made sure to plaster an expressionless face on.
"I'm sorry. . .Please, stay," Dick pleaded, pulling you back onto the chair.
"Fine," you gave in, chewing your lip. "But please, don't."
He nodded, understanding. Soon, the both of you got into a conversation of literally anything. You guys talked about your favourite colour, show, exercise, anything. You glanced at you watch. 7:01. "Shit," you mumbled, standing up. "I really have to go now, bye, Dick."
Dick looked kind of disappointed, but nonetheless replied with a, "See you around."
You sprinted home, trying to think of an excuse as to why you're late. You pulled open the front door, heart beating rapidly. "Dad, I'm--"
A force threw you to the side, and you looked up to see your father, glaring over you. He looked bad, like worse than usual. His hair was messed up and his eyes were completely bloodshot, not its usual partial. In his hand held a beer bottle.
"Why are you late?!" he screamed, aiming a kick at your ribs.
i find it kind of funny, i find it kind of sad.
the dreams in which i'm dying are the bests i've ever had.
Before you had the chance to answer, he started kicking you again, this time not stopping. You screamed, your ribs felt like it had been broken twice over. Tears streamed down your face, and your vision got blurry. You tried moving backwards to the front door. And that was when he swung the bottle at the you. It shattered and pieces cut into your face; a particularly deep cut at your forehead. Grabbing the biggest piece of glass you could find, you grabbed it and stabbed your father in his foot. Time to run, before I die. Then, mustering all your strength, you swung the front door open and started running. To the park, I have to get to the park. To Dick. Have to get to Dick.
You felt like dying. Why couldn't you have died like how you have so many times in dreams? Dying would be way easier. At least the suffering would end.
"Dick. . ." you whispered as you fell onto the bench. You just wanted to give out already. Your whole body hurt like hell.
"[Y/N]! What happened?!" His voice was panicked. "We need to get you help, now."
He picked you up, and you almost screamed when he put pressure on a rib.
"Shh, hang in there," he whispered.
You didn't. You blacked out.
+
and i find it hard to tell you,
i find it hard to take.
You woke up with a headache and the antiseptic smell of hospitals invaded your nostrils. You tried siting up, but stopped when your chest exploded with pain. You hissed, lying back down. The door opened, and Dick hurried inside.
"[Y/N]! You okay?"
"Yeah. . ."
"Good, now tell me what happened." He stared at you with a serious expression, daring you to defy him.
You sighed, and started: "Well. . .I. . .My dad. . ." Why was it so hard to tell him? Was it because you just met him? You didn't trust him? No, you do trust him. "My dad. . .He abuses me. A lot. Everyday, he comes home drunk and. . .yeah. I cut, it's my escape. I like seeing the blood, the scars. . ."
Dick gasped. He leaned down and stared into your eyes. "Then you're not going back there."
"W-What?"
"You heard me. I'm not letting you go back there. Look at what he did to you! No one deserves that, [Y/N], especially not you."
"But. . .It's still. . .home," you say.
"Well then I guess you just have to start regarding here as home," Dick whispered into your ear.
You blushed. "H-Here? Your place?"
"Yes. You'll be staying here until you find your own place. In the meantime, this is home." He smirked.
You smiled back. "Thanks, Dick."
"No problem."
"Hey, you know what can make me feel better?"
"Hm?"
"Come cuddle," you smiled, scooting over so he could have a place.
He grinned, and slipped in beside you. He wrapped his strong arms around you and you hugged back, resting your head on his chest. You felt the tears flow freely as you thought: someone cares. Someone actually cares about me.
You feel Dick shift a little and he said softly, "Hey don't cry."
You sniffed and smiled through your tears. "I'm just really, really happy."
He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "Well I'm glad you're happy."
You blushed, giggling a little. You knew right there and then that you were going to be calling this place home for a really long time.
when people run in circles,
it's a very, very
M A D W O R L D
+ + +
yay i really loved this a lot. literally what happened to me and the last part's just what i want to happen lol ;-; dick come cuddle with meeee :'(
