Repression ▶ M•C ▶ 2/3

Chapter 56

Georgie's POV

I refused to speak for the entire car ride back home, my head was pounding like I had been hit by a car all over again and my stomach was churning inside of me. The last thing I wanted to do today was hang around in a dead woman's house for the rest of the day with my abusive boyfriend. That was ridiculous though, whatever anyone else thought about him I knew that he would never intentionally hurt me. He loves me, and I love him and I'm going to try and fix this before it's too late. Gwyn pulled into the driveway and as soon as she cut the engine I got out, walking ahead of her and opening the unlocked front door. "I'm going to get changed, can you tell Michael to wait by the door" Glanced in her direction briefly before walking up the stairs. I went straight to my room and picked up the navy dress that Gwyn had thrown out of my suitcase earlier. I put it on and tied my hair up into a bun. I wanted to look smart, but I doubt many people will take me seriously with purple hair. I wore subtle makeup and high heels that matched my dress. I thought I looked nice, for the first time in a while I had some self-esteem. I looked a lot like my mother, just without the awful attitude and blonde hair. I was started to look my age, I seemed so much more mature wearing clothes like these instead of baggy hoodies and ripped jeans, I liked myself when I looked like this. I was trying to take my time, delaying the moment when I would have to look Michael in the eyes and try my best to hold it together. If no one else can put in the effort to try and help him then how is he supposed to get better? I love him, with every fibre in my body; my whole existence depends on this one person and when I saw him that day, curled up on the floor crying his eyes out I knew it was my duty to help him. But it shouldn't be like this, it should be making him coffee and holding his hand when he was upset and making him smile when he misses his mum, not getting thrown to the floor every time he gets drunk. I missed the old him, the one that showed me how much he cared, that would go out of his way just to make me smile.

"You were the best person I had ever met, you were kind, passionate, sensitive, caring and funny, and we were perfect for each other. I'm so glad I met you; you completely changed my life around. Even now, I still feel the love we had together, when we're together it feels like you never lost your memory. I'm always going to love you, even if you don't love me, because you're perfect, no matter how many cars you get hit by" I stood up from the chair and held my hand out, before he took it and was standing in front of me. "I'm not the same though, so much has changed" I sighed. "I don't care about the colour of your hair or the girly clothes you wear, as long as I know that you love me, and that we can sort of start again, try and get back what we had"

I held back to tears, I wasn't going to leave this room looking weak. The bedroom door opened suddenly and Gwyn smiled over at me. "You look lovely" She stepping inside and stood beside me in front of the mirror. She scanned my body, scrunching her eyebrows together and crossing her arms. "Something's missing" She smirked. She turned around and searched the room, until lifting up the small silver necklace that she and Calum gave me for my birthday. She grinned and placed it around my neck, where it rested under my neck. "Thank you" I sighed, smiling weakly and running my hand down her arm. "I came to say Mike is waiting for you, at the bottom of the stairs" She looked as if she was about to cry as well. I nodded and we left the room, however Gwyn didn't come down stairs with me, she hid herself away in her own room, shutting the door as I stood at the top, looking down at the front door. I lifted hand and felt around the back of my head, touching the small lump that had now replaced the cut from yesterday. It was invisible with my hair tied up like this, like it never happened. I started to step down, holding onto the railing so I didn't fall down, and soon saw Michael leaning against the living room door frame. He was looking at the ground, his white shirt half tucked into his trousers and his hair now starting to go back to his natural colour, which was a dark blond/brown at the moment. He didn't say a word, just gave me a look of such regret, he didn't need to speak. I got to the bottom of the stairs and opened the front door, he trailed after me slowly.

"George" He mumbled, his voice was croaky and rough. I sat in the passenger seat, too afraid to look at him as he started the engine without making it awkward. "It's alright, we don't have to talk about it" I assured him, as we pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road. As he moved his hand away from the steering wheel to change gear, I felt the warm fingers of Michael entwine with mine, leaving them there, without saying anything. I was too tired to push him away, plus it actually felt nice someone holding my hand for once. I didn't feel so alone anymore. It almost felt normal.