The door slammed open. I jumped back on the couch not ready to be faced with whoever was at the other end. To my relief it was my boyfriend.
"I thought you were someone else." I stated, trying not to show my still frightened state. He didn't reply. His shoes were kicked off and his keys were dropped onto the table as he made his way towards the kitchen. I sat there for a couple seconds processing what had just occurred.
"Shit," he hissed. I let my feet carry me across the floor towards the next room to meet him. He was bent over the sink with the water running. Something was wrong.
"Babe?" He spun around, a washcloth held against his right eye. I furrowed my brow, my mind going to the possible options. Still, no answer. "What happened."
"Don't worry about it." Those were his first words? No. I wouldn't allow it. Something had to have happened and I was most certainly was not going to brush it off.
"Harry..." I approached him slowly. Taking hold of his wrist, I brought his arm down to reveal a swollen eye with blood surrounding it. I gasped. This wasn't the first time it happened. When we started dating I learned about his dark demeanor. He had been in numerous fist fights which usually ended in the opponent being completely destroyed.
"It's fine. I'm fine."
I shook my head, letting my long hair fall over my face. It was not fine and he most certainly wasn't fine at all.
"Please stop fighting." I hushed. Harry bit down on his lip. Intensely looking at me. I felt slightly intimidated.
"The guy was an asshole!" He shouted. His fist came down on the counter. I jumped back. The noise of the impact scaring me.
"I.." I shook my head. Unable to speak. I was in utter shock. Harry never let his anger out in front of me. Compared to him I was completely innocent. He had been my first everything. To add to that I never tried drugs and alcohol did not sit well with me. I was always on the quiet side, never participating in group conversations when I was in public. It just wasn't me.
"Babe?" Harry's voice became quiet. He realized he frightened me. Yet he had no more to say as I bolted from the kitchen towards the bedroom.
I sat under the covers quivering. It wasn't the fact that I was scared of him. It was merely his actions that left me speechless. What if his anger was taken out on me. I wouldn't stand a change. And that's what petrified me.
Before my thoughts could go any farther the bed sank in. I felt his warmth next to me. It felt comforting in a way.
"Please take the covers off your face. Babe, you're going to suffocate!" Slowly I brought them down.
His eyes looked puffier than before. His eyes red and his hair slicked back from what would have to be his fingers running through it. He was crying.
"I love you." He started. "You know that right?"
I pursed my lips. It was a fairly new phrase to us. I liked the way it felt though, hearing it from my boyfriend. It warmed my stomach. Made me feel safe.
I nodded in response to him. Before my response was able to be reciprocated he continue.
"I know my outburst back there was uncalled for." He paused. Searching for the right words. "I wouldn't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and if that means giving up my violent actions I will put in an effort to cease them."
I watched him. He seemed content with his words. However that feeling was not completely mutual.
"What?" He questioned. The fear was still evident in my features.
"Please don't ever hurt me." I whimpered.
His face turned from concern to shock. He shook his head frantically. Hair falling over his face. Seconds later he seemed to collect himself pushing the hair off his face once more.
"You. Are the most important person to me. In the world. Hurting you would be the worst thing a person could ever do. I don't hurt what I love. What's mine. What I treasure. Losing you would be like losing half of me."
I sighed. The weight of a thousand bricks falling off my shoulders.
"I love you." I finally stated.
