A/N: This chapter has a bit of a trigger warning. Explicit details will be spared, but please, by all means, if you're sensitive to even the lightest of sexual abuse, skip over the portion it's involved in. I'll warn you as it comes up!
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Weeks pass and against her better judgement, Spencer and Toby grow close. Week days are usually Wren's forte; a more convenient time for him to see her.
He still doesn't know.
Toby respects the fact that she has a boyfriend and waits until weekends to have her attention. In reality, he doesn't mind waiting for her.
But, still, his suspicion grows. It does not escape his notice that she wears long sleeves as if her closet only contained them. It does not escape his notice when her mood changes, when she is more shut off one day than she had been the day before, or when she winces at the slightest movement.
But he doesn't ask.
He doesn't say anything.
She'd push him away like he noticed her do before, pull away from him.
And maybe it's a little selfish, but he doesn't want to lose her.
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She doesn't know how he found out.
She hadn't told him.
But, like always, he knows.
He doesn't know about Toby.
He doesn't even know about -A.
Instead, Wren knows that her parents are on a business trip; away from Rosewood and presenting the opportunity to show up; to surprise her.
And that hardly ever went well for her.
"We haven't had much time alone, love."
He enters her bedroom, complaining about their lack of time spent together. She resists the urge to roll her eyes as he comes closer, an arm snaking itself around her slender waist. Maneuvering away from his hold, she takes a seat on the edge of her bed, hand gripping the book she had set down when he showed up. "Tonight's not a good night," she bites her lower lip, gaze dropping to the book set in her lap. "I've got a huge test coming up. I've got to read this massive book." She lifts the book slightly as if to prove her point, gaze flickering toward the clock that indicated it was well past his allowed time in her house; well into the time she usually finds herself most at peace.
The night.
"You can study tomorrow." He decides without question, removing the book from her hands and placing it farther away from her. He sits beside her on the bed, body leaning against hers as he peppers kisses down her neck without warning. "Right now is our time." He mumbles into her skin, eliciting a shiver from her.
{ TRIGGER WARNING. }
She pulls away from him, getting to her feet in a manner she hopes comes off as collected. "I told you, not tonight." She repeats, her tone more firm as she crosses her arms at her slender torso, a defense mechanism at best.
He follows her across her bedroom, closing in on her with a small smirk lifting his brims. "And I told you, now is our alone time." His whisper is laced heavily with his british accent. She lifts her hands to push him away as he gets closer to her, but he's faster.
He's always faster.
He grabs both of her slender wrists as they come toward him, using his new found grip as leverage to push her back into the wall forcibly; leaving her no time to catch her breath before his lips are covering hers. He trails kisses along her jawline, moving down to her neck as his hands pin her wrists to her side up against the wall in a harsh grip.
"Get. Off." She breathes through her clenched teeth, attempting to push him off of her although her hands remain locked between the wall and his hands. His lips move up to her ear, nipping and mumbling into it, "It would be easier for you if you stop struggling." He growls into her ear, causing her to squirm. Her body remains deeply bruised from the attack he initiated only days previously, although he acts as if he doesn't notice the purple skin his lips trail over as he kisses her. The strength in which he pins her wrists against the wall deepens the bruise already marking her skin. Where once was purple, is now closer to black. She is limited in escape plans, but one hand holds her wrists while his other begins tugging at the hem of her shirt, and she knows she needs to get away.
Trapped between his heavy body and the wall, she barely manages to lift a leg and knee him in the stomach, but her attempt does the job long enough for her to slip out from between his arms and dash toward her bedroom door; all supplies needed to hide her bruises and scars forgotten as she runs down the stairs at an alarmingly fast pace.
Tears stream from her eyes.
She doesn't notice.
Because he got in.
He proved his point.
He made it known to her that he can reach her at anytime, that she'll never be truly safe.
And where she used to love the night..
now she's afraid of the dark.
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A/N: I am probably going to update again tomorrow.. wow, I'm on a roll.
But I'm seriously so into this story right now. I can't even be bothered by the fact that I'm possibly becoming that annoying, constant buzzing of a notification on your phone.
Until we meet again,
- Marissa🍕
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Nyctophilia
Romance"It is not normal for someone to call you worthless and every name in the book one minute, and say how wonderful you are the next. There is something wrong with them, not with you... But it's hard not to feel that way." The title of this story is "N...
