For Him

Chapter 23- Again

Blaine was sure that it was over, that it was a one-time thing. He was a good guy, and his duties as a good guy included being loyal to other people, and hope for loyalty back. He gave kindness, and expected that returned to him, and the same with trust and love. As a good guy, Blaine was supposed to believe Phil when he said that he wouldn't hurt him again. Looking back on it, that was one of the worst things he could do.

The smell of booze mixed with that of warm breath, creating a threatening scent that Blaine could clearly recognize. He knew it all too well, especially from the many nights that Phil came home from his late shifts at the bar, and claimed to have a "little something to drink". This was clearly one of those nights.

"Phil..." Blaine warned, not even looking to yell at him, but almost begging him to step away. "Phil back up."

He only came closer. And closer. And so did his fist.

Yes, it was a fist. It wasn't an open-palm slap that ricocheted off of his cheek, it was hard, solid knuckles coming down quickly and on various parts of his body.

The fist came again. And again and again and again. After each punch, Blaine could feel his body tense up, and the pain stemming from wherever it connected with him to the rest of him. The first one came as a shock, the pain being more internal than external. It hurt him, just not on the outside. The next few times sent a sharp sensation through his veins to the point where he felt his temples pulsating with every heartbeat.

"Please," Blaine begged, but it was no use now that Phil was drunk and unaware. "Please, you don't need to do this."

His eyes were clouded over and his judgement was too. He wasn't there mentally, he was so far off.

Phil didn't notice the tears prickling out of the corner of his eyes, or the bruises that were quickly showing up on his previously spotless skin. He didn't hear Blaine's cries of protest, or the sob he let out once he was satisfied. And when he was satisfied, he passed out cold on the couch.

Blaine didn't get any sleep that night, though Phil didn't wake up until around 11 am with a pounding headache and memory loss from the previous night.

The entire time, Blaine sat on the cold hard wood floor and focused on his breath. The idea of anything else could bring him to tears in seconds, so he tried to clear his mind, and think of his short, shallow breaths.

But every once in a while, every 10 minutes or so of sitting on the floor, thoughts would creep into his mind, his senses would stop completely, and the ache would return in the center of his chest.

He would think of everything that was broken in his life. Of his broken heart, his broken trust, his broken family. His entire life was fucked up, and in it all, the only thing he was trying to hold on to was the only idea of love he'd ever had.

Yes, Blaine felt betrayed. Yes, he was hurt in every way imaginable. But someone still loved him. At 11 am when Phil came in to see Blaine on the floor, and flinching from his gentle touch, he knew what he'd done. And he knew it was wrong, and he said he was sorry, and he reminded Blaine he loved him.

And that was it. That was why Blaine stayed even though his judgement was slain and he wasn't thinking straight. Love. Or what he thought was love.

Blaine forgave him after he made sure Phil wouldn't do it again.

This isn't a great chapter and I'm sorry. I've been super busy with school so I'm glad I can get a chapter out to you once a week.

Once again, I have a lot planned coming up in the near future for stay tuned!

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