Vienna {h.s.}

chapter ten - cigarette burns

Jay was getting on Vienna's nerves. He kept creeping up on her, and singing songs around her that she found extremely annoying. She tried to let it slide off her back, but finally she just told Murray that she was going home. When questioned, she just looked at her feet and told him that she wasn't feeling well.

"It's okay, kid. Jay gets on my nerves sometimes too." Murray assured her with a laugh, making her eyes widen as she was caught in her lie.

"I'm sorry for lying." She spluttered, and he chuckled.

"It's okay, Vienna. Everyone does it at one time or another. My ex wife did it more than anyone I have ever met." He chuckled, murmuring the last bit with humor in his words.

"Thank you, sir." She said quietly, taking a step out to back out of his office.

"Vienna, how many times have I told you it's Murray." He scolded lightly, sending her away with his gestures.

She had decided to walk to work that day, so she had to walk home. It made it ten times more difficult to walk the seven miles home because she had forgotten her Walkman at home, and didn't have any music to listen to. But she carried on, she had no one to blame but herself. She clumsily tripped over a rock, and landed on the ground with her hands taking the brunt of the scrapes.

She hissed, sitting up and dusting off her jeans. Huffing hair out of her face, she closed her eyes to regain herself. A car pulled up next to her, and slowed to stop. She really didn't think about it, focused on calming herself.

"Get in, love." A voice called to her, and she opened her eyes, looking to find the car that had pulled up next to her holding her favorite green eyed man. Favorite, she realized.

She stood up, walking over to his car, and sliding into his passenger seat without objection. She sighed, sinking into his leather seats, her head falling against the headrest. Her palms rested face up against her knees, and he glanced at them as he drove her home in silence. He could see she wasn't having the best day, and decided not to pester her with useless questions.

"I'm going to clean those for you when we get you home." Harry told her at a stoplight, and she nodded silently. "Was it really that bad of a day?" He asked quietly, causing her to shake her head lightly.

"Not really. My coworker just got on my nerves." She explained.

"Alright, little lady. Inside we go." He instructed, parking outside of her house. She exited from the car, and led a trailing Harry into her home.

She guided him up and to her bathroom, where she sat up on the counter, and instructed Harry where the first aid kit was. She didn't think her cuts were too bad. They weren't going to need stitches, she could see that much. She had been through much worse, but she would allow Harry to do what he felt was his duty and help her.

He came back with tender hands and a box full of things for the worst case scenarios. He placed the box next to her, and grabbed her palms from the wrists carefully, examining them. His eyebrows furrowed, grabbing an alcohol pad.

"I'm not fragile, you know." She commented quietly.

"You haven't proved that you're not." He murmured, and she sighed, her mind coming up with something to prove him wrong.

"There was once a boy named Marcus that I loved." She started, taking a deep breath. He was listening, she could feel it. "He was a sweet boy, and he was in my maths class. He taught me the different formulas, and explained them to me, and built a friendship. About a month after we had become close friends, he asked me out on a date, and I agreed. Marcus was a boy that had an edge to him, I knew. I hadn't seen it myself, but I could see that there was something there, and it made him mysterious. Marcus became my boyfriend after four dates, and I had started to fall in love. It was like we were in our own little world, a fairytale. 

"Then one day, Marcus snapped. He had told me that all of the times he had said he loved me had been because we were doing well, and if I wasn't doing what he asked, then how could he possibly be in love with me. I grew to give into his every demand, even so much so that I gave him sex at his every whim. I would skip classes because he told me he wanted to hook up in the back of his car. I would do his homework, and his friends homework, and then fail my own course because I didn't have time to do my own work.

"Marcus didn't become physically abusive until I had had enough. I didn't do his homework one day, and I didn't reply to his phone call to tell me to meet him in the parking lot during my next class, and he became calm. He was so calm that day, it scared me. Because I saw it in his eyes, his actions were calm and collected, but something was brewing in his mind. And as soon as he brought me back to his place so I could do homework, it had become enough for him.

"It wasn't as if he was abusive for a while, no. It piled on all at once. It went from verbal abuse to hospital. I had two broken ribs, twelve stitches on my hairline, and bruises that made me immobile for a week and a half. One of the three cigarette burns is from him, the there two are from my other two abusive exes. It was like a marking, that since I had been in one abusive relationship, I should only have those kinds. Matty made sure that Marcus got shipped off to live with his uncle that was in the military, and I haven't seen him since."

By then, Harry had finished cleaning her hands, and had a couple tears trailing down his face. Gauze covered her palms, and she lifted one of her hands to hold his cheek. She wiped a tear away with her finger, and he smiled sadly.

"Yeah, never mind. You're not fragile." He said, and she laughed.

"Nope." She agreed. She hopped off the counter, and he looked down at her, who was practically held against his chest. "Let's go lay down. I'm tired."

"Whatever you want, duchess." He told her, walking behind her to her room.

I'll do whatever you want me to do, or not do.

^damn, the feels. i wrote this all in one sitting, soooo yeah^