Nadia's POV
"Sweetie, c'mon," Greyson whispered his low, raspy voice in my ear as he played with the button on my shorts. I thought about it for a brief moment, I mean we were already half naked on my bed, but my conscious told me otherwise.
"Babe," I sighed. "I really don't think I'm ready."
"It's been six months, how are you not ready? Plus everyone's been asking and talking-" I cut him off.
"You're talking to everyone about what we do in our relationship?" I sat up and folded my arms over my chest, glaring at my boyfriend.
"No, not really. But you know it's not like that."
I could tell he was annoyed, but I didn't reply.
"Please," he neared my, his hands roaming across my bare torso. "You know I love you so much." He leaned in and softly kissed my neck, sending chills throughout my body. I turned my face to avoid his next kiss and stared at the bed sheets. His grip shifted from my hips to my hands, trying to lace our fingers together. I drew my hands back quickly, disgust evident in my expression. We were quiet for some time, the tense and eerie silence pressuring me to say something, but I remained still, my mouth pressed shut in a hard line. He started squeezing my wrists as hard as he could. My fingers were turning a shade of purple, numbness kicking in quicker than I anticipated.
"Let go of me," I whimpered, trying not to sound like I was in pain. Neither of us moved.
"Get off," I gritted my teeth, still avoiding eye contact. When he released his grip, I jumped off my bed, picking up items of clothing on the floor beside my queen size bed. I hooked my bra behind my back and slipped his shirt over my head. I stared at the wall taking in the never ending silence broken by the monotonous tick of the ceiling fan overhead.
"It's time for you to go, Greyson," I sneered over my shoulder, slightly turning my neck and staring at the adjacent wall.
"Well, then, give me my fucking shirt back," he snarled, rustling the sheets as he rose behind me. I completely turned around to face the frustrated boy, shifting my expression from annoyance to confusion. He stomped over to me and slammed me into my closet door by my shoulders. My lower back hit the handle extremely hard, I could already feel the skin starting to bruise. I stared into his angry dark brown eyes with shock. He yanked his shirt off of me, popping my neck with it.
"Sorry," I whispered.
His grunt and eye roll told said more than any words he had spoken the entire evening.
"Would you like anything before you go?"
"Your virginity." His tone was not only rude, but snarky as well. He obviously hadn't taken his medicine today, judging by the swing from the giddiness earlier to the intense anger present now.
"Really?" I rolled my eyes and ran both of my hands through my hair. A heavy sigh I had been holding back escaped my lips.
"You asked," he retorted as he put his shoes back on.
"I'm sorry." I looked at my feet, mixed emotions filling my brain. I knew he couldn't control the way he snapped at me, but it didn't change the fact that every word spilled from his mouth burned into my mind. Although I experienced verbal abuse more often, I could handle the physical better. At least the marks and bruises would fade, words etch themselves in the subconscious with a sharp scalpel, changing the way a person views themselves and the world around them.
"Don't apologize for something you're not sorry for, Nadia." Guilt tripping was my weakness, and he used it against me with every opportunity he could.
I tried to give him a hug, but instead he turned around, pushed my shoulders back again straight against my bed post. He jumped outside my bedroom window and walked across the street, without even a glance back at me. I watched as he went over to his bright red mustang with dark tinted windows, started the engine, and peeled out.
I wanted to be distraught by the entire scene that just occurred, but my understanding nature kicked in. He couldn't control his emotions the way most people can unless he went to therapy and took his medication the way he is supposed to. Things are hard for him to deal with and I'm the only one who knows everything about him, who has stood by him, who he opened up to. He needed me now more than ever.
I went into my bathroom to see the damage of the night. My wrists were red, my shoulder black and blue, and my lower back had a deep blue imprint of my closet door handle on it. Luckily, it wasn't the worse I'd looked after Greyson left. These marks were nothing unusual to me; they happened every other night. Clothing and bracelets would cover up all of the new marks in the morning.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth and returned to my room to see Greyson's name lit up on my phone.
"Baby, I'm so sorry I lost my temper again. You know I still love you. Sleep well Nadia, I'll see you tomorrow. Xx."
I smiled at the sweet message. I had hope in my heart that one day he'd stop the hitting, but I could over look it for now. I plugged my phone into its charger and curled up under my covers. Slowly, I let sleep captivate me, numbing my thoughts and worries, replacing them with serene nothingness.
