For habsflames04, hope that's what you had in mind and that you'll like it:)
At the times like that, you despised yourself. Usually, you know how to stand up for yourself and don't let the others walk on you, but when it comes to your boyfriend, you are willing to do anything just to keep him happy. When he losses it, you are usually the first one to get on his way.
It is on a night from Sunday to Monday when you stumble out of his apartment where you were staying for the weekend. Your right cheek is all bloody, deep cut running from your eyebrow to your lip, blood gushing out of it and painting your vision red. You run towards your car when you feel him trip you. in the last second you catch yourself before your head hits against the concrete driveway.
"What did I do to you?"
"You know what you did! You cheated on me, you whore!"
"I did not cheat on you," you yell, but your yelling turns into quiet whisper when he stands above you, fists clenched and his eyes filled with nothing but pure hatred.
"Please, don't hit me anymore! Please, it's enough"
"I'll say when it's enough," he pulls you up by grabbing your hair and that brings tears in your eyes. You've sworn to yourself never to cry because of that, but the pain, both emotional and physical, you can't hold back tears anyway.
Hitting continues for maybe ten, twenty or even thirty minutes, you don't know how long does it take for him to take his rage out on you. With your vision blurry from tears, you drag your beaten body to your bedroom and crawl into bed. Turning your back to his side of the bed, you cry yourself to sleep in which your memories from the past haunt you.
As a six year-old-girl you often woke up in the middle of the night and went downstairs for a glass of water. No one knew why you did that, but you had been doing it for a week every night. One night you tiptoed to the kitchen, but you stopped in the middle of the staircase at the horrible image of your father, your loving and gentle father, beating your mom. Back then you were not aware your dad had a drinking problem and that clouded his mind. He loved you and he loved your mother, but when he was drunk, that did not matter at all.
And now it seems the history is repeating itself...
You wake up in the middle of the night and check the time on the clock on the nightstand. 2 A.M. Behind your back you can hear loud snoring, meaning your boyfriend is deeply asleep. With no hesitation, you take a suitcase, which you have in case of an emergency, from beneath your bed and quickly tiptoe out of his apartment and slip into a car. As you start the engine you promise yourself one thing. Never to get back there.
With one hand in a steering wheel and both eyes on the road, you dial your friend from childhood, Jake Virtanen, over Bluetooth. You moved to Vancouver when he did to stay close to him, but you grew apart when you met Y/EX-B/N.
You are just hoping he will pick up.
"Yeah?"
"Jake, it's me, Y/N. Listen, uh..."
"Y/N! It's great to hear you. How are you? Why are you calling me at two A.M.?"
"Jake...can I come over, please...just for one night?"
"Well, yeah, okay...You have my address?"
"I think I do...You still live on the same place?"
"Yeah. How long do you need?"
"About ten minutes? I don't know..."
"I'll unlock the door, okay? I have practice in the morning, gotta sleep, but you are welcome to make yourself feel like home."
You sneak into his apartment quietly and lock the door. When you get to the living room, you notice he's already set things up for you, so you just crawl under blankets and fall asleep, peacefully for the first time in many months.
