sh•mg | oneshots

Wild 🏳

Prompt from PTX_Pentaholic99 : refer to media! I twisted and turned it a little bit, but I hope you still like it!

Setting: AU Different Personalities

Words: 1193
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Esther sighs, grabbing the ice pack from the freezer. She makes her way back to the living room, sitting down next to Scott on the couch.

"What happened this time?" She asks, already knowing. Scott has his knees up to his chin, and he's visibly shaken up.

"Fell." He utters, taking the ice pack with a thank you, and holding it to the sore area on his forearm.

Esther huffs. Every time it's a new story, like he feels the need to lie.

"He's not good for you, Scott."

Scott looks up at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. And, I don't think you should go back." Esther tries to keep calm, but the thought of him running back to harm over and over again infuriates her.

"It's not a big deal–"

"Like hell it's not! What is this? At least the seventh time this month you've shown up here in the early hours of the morning claiming you fell or cut yourself cooking or tripped over a rock. I know you, Scott, and you're clumsy, but no one trips and bruises their back."

Scott stares up at her with terrified eyes, and Esther becomes aware that she had stood to her feet during her rant.

She had scared him.

"Scott... Scott, I'm sorry." He jumps when she touches his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm sorry." He recites, looking down.

"No, no, Scott, please. I'm sorry. I should be the one to apologize... Shit." She sits down and wraps her slender arms around him.

"Why? Why do you put yourself through this?" Esther mumbles mournfully.

"I love him. And– and he loves me." Scott swallows hard, and leans his head slightly against Esther's.

"He doesn't love you," she pulls back to face him, "I love you."

"Yes he does, Esther. You might not see it, but I do. Everything he does... It's just to make me better. He loves me, he does."

Esther's heart breaks with every word.

"He drives me wild, Esther. It's like a drug. He helps me with my anxiety by telling me what to say and how to act. He takes me out to dinner and shows me off. He always buys me flowers, even after I did something wrong. He calls me his baby." Scott smiles, letting his feet down.

"But, Scott, look at the bruises on your arms. Look at the heartache he's caused you. You're trapped in this relationship–"

"I choose to be in this relationship, Esther. Stop making it seem so bad." Scott defends, slightly scooting away from her.

"It is bad, Scott! I've had enough. You can't keep doing this to yourself! Watching Mitch play you like a puppet on a string is not my idea of being a good friend–"

"Well, hating my fiancé isn't either!"

Esther sits quiet in shock, Scott's eyes angry.

"No," Esther whispers, "you didn't– you two aren't–"

"We are," Scott interrupts, " he doesn't have the ring yet, but, I'm happy. We're happy."