Damien's Help

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Mentions: Eating Disorders, physical and emotional abuse, and physical fighting. Reader discretion is advised. 

Mark was mad. Very very mad. Half of my living room was thrown at me. Multiple holes in the wall, and me. Bruises and scars covered my skin. From him. Him and his evil rage. Tantrums he threw over the most random things. Tomorrow, I'd have to put on, even more, makeup than I already did. It always happened when he came over. But the smile he showed to me in public made me fall for him over and over again. I don't know how he did it. One minute he's Satan himself, the next he's angel that's descended from Heaven right in front of me

I heard a soft knock on the door. Slowly I pick myself off the ground and walk over to the door, a slight limp in my walk. Since I don't have a peephole, I just have to trust that the person at the door isn't a murderer or worse Mark.

"Who is it?" My voice shaking with every word comes out of my mouth.

"Mae, are you alright?" Instantly I opened the door only to see Damien, my neighbor whom I had met earlier. I looked up into his eyes, tears, and snot dripping down my face, my shaking had to have made him nervous, because what I saw was a concern in his eyes. What had surprised me even more, was him raising his arms and standing in place unmoving, as if asking if he could hug me. More or less I just leaned forward letting my body crash into his not caring anymore at this point. Gasping he stepped back a bit but managed to keep his footing mostly steady. I could feel his soft steady breaths on my neck, somehow that comforted me. The smell of cologne and leather made me close my eyes trustingly.

"I came as soon as I heard the door slam." He said comfortingly looking down at me. Opening my eyes, I made eye contact with him, then looked straight to the ground, embarrassed. I finally noticed the brown grocery bags by his feet. For the first time in so long, I laughed. It felt so good to be hit by a wave of joy. But it quickly diminished once I realized I had gotten snot on Damien's leather jacket. He laughed softly, finally letting go to wipe the snot off. Feeling my face growing hot I tried to avoid looking into his eyes again.

"Do you want me to help you bring your groceries to your house?" I asked him, desperately trying to get away from the place that held all of my problems inside.

"Sure, if you promise me one thing." He said, his voice calmly prompting me to say yes to whatever he was about to make me do.

"And what would that be exactly?" Only asking because I was slightly afraid of what was about to come out of his mouth. I trusted him, but we see how that turned out for me usually. This very thing was how I usually get myself into trouble, I'm too trusting of people.

"I want you to tell me what's bothering you." He said, the look of worry flashing back into his eyes.

"Um... yeah I could do that." Trying to convince me more than him. There were three bags total. He took his two like he was holding nothing, while I was struggling to take my one. Along with my abuse, I was suffering from body dysmorphia, which causes my anorexia. The little food and lots of water I put into my body had made me weaker, but I didn't know this weak.

We waltzed into his apartment, which was right across from mine. His was the exact same as mine, but he was decorated. After placing his bags on the counter so lightly I barely heard it, he must've noticed I was having trouble with mine, because he rushed over and took my bag to the counter. Turning back to me with a small smile, he leads me over to his couch. I plopped down looking over to him as he sat down on a chair across from me.