29. The not-so-perfect Relationship

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quick update, short chapter ooo
do NOT, under any circumstance,
blame me for all the heart braking moments this story will obtain 

blame maree, she's basically satan

---❀✿❁

Pov: Vic.

I wanted to apologize, for snapping at Oli this afternoon. Honestly, I’d felt bad about it all night. Plus, what he told me probably was true. He probably isn't a player, like that girl made him appear to be, she was probably just fucking around with him.

"Oli?"

The door was already creaked open, so I stepped into the always warmly air-conditioned villa, except now, everything was unusually cold. The goose bumps meandering along my arms showed this. Another thing that had changed over the past few hours was the atmosphere of the place. Usually, it was bright, flowing with dazzling light shining from the various bulbs on the high roof, but now, all the lights were off. Everything was dark, gloomy. Creepy, even.

“Oli?” I asked again, my legs slowly taking me towards the glare of the static television in the wide lounging area. Everyone must be asleep. But, I still feel slightly uneasy. I mean, the house has never been so quiet, so still.

As I was about to turn back around, though, something caught my eye. Hanging from the other side of the wide sofa, was a skinny arm, the television’s flicker causing it to appear silhouette. This most certainly wasn’t Tom’s arm; you could tell by the physique, that it definitely belonged to Oli.

Slowly, I shuffled my legs along the fluffy carpet, and once I reached where my boyfriend was sat, well, slumped, against the assorted cushions, a gasp fell from my lips as I took in his appearance.

Mouth hung open with an unattractive dribble leaking from his lips, his hair stuck up in odd directions as practically each and every chestnut lock was damp with sweat. A needle hanging limply in his grasp, his eyes were fixed on the screen which wasn’t even playing any sort of program, and the terrifying thing was he actually looked exceptionally interested in the boring, inactive station. It was then I noticed something else about his eyes, they were bloodshot.

Oli must have taken drugs after I’d left.

I was anything but fearless, courageous and brave when his gaze switched upwards to meet with my petrified eyes. “Vic,” He chocked out my name with a diminished smile, raising high from above the complacent pile of cushions and stepping towards my marginally shaken up frame. Before I could even taken a step back, the needle dropped from his light hold and he used both of his hands to grip hold of my sides.

Another gasp, one more frightened, escaped my throat and as soon as it did, Oli tightened his grip and pulled me closer against his shivering body. "Sh," He soothed, though the gesture was anything but reassuring, "Don't be scared, alright?" The giggles which followed his words made me attempt to yank myself away from his hold, but to my disappointment, I couldn't escape it.

“It’s bloody fantastic you’re back," He whispered, his cold breath blowing my hair, "you up for it yet?” And that was when it was officially proven; Oli wasn't the same person when he was infected with those harsh chemicals. And, to be quite honest, I didn't like who he became as soon as the drugs entered his system. Immediately, I longed to have the actual Oli back. The sweet, caring, gentle one. If he was here, he'd beat this guy, the hell up.  

"No," I retained my desperate attempts to push him away, failing more so each time, "You told me before you weren't going to use me in this way. D-don't you remember, Oli? Come on, please, I know you do..."  

"Rubbish," Long fingers sliding underneath the thin fabric of my tee shirt, he faltered them upwards, eventually reaching the point where I sustained an uncomfortable shudder. Then, he trailed them downwards, dipping them inside the denim material of my jeans and gripping hold of my behind, only earning a soft yelp from yours truly. 

I could feel my pulse beating in my ears, blocking out all other sound except the breath that was raggedly moving in and out of my parted lips at proper, gasping interludes. Oli was going to do it, wasn't he? He was going to force me into something I was well beyond unprepared for. But I couldn't let him, I just couldn't!

Using all of the force I had, the tiny amount of confidence which situated inside my mind at this point in time, allowed me to shove his skinny scaffold back towards the sofa, "Get away from me!" Raising my voice as loud as I could, my eyebrows furrowed, causing my forehead to crinkle with anger. I was angry, but I was, still, also utterly afraid.

The mix of these two emotions were spouting through my veins, creating an urge to be back home, in the safe ambiance of my mother and father's well set out living room, the small fire crackling and the homey feeling relieving me.   

But, instead, I was here, with wide eyes beaming with fright into Oli's now thoroughly riled dark orbs. It was like I had just done something horrible to him, like brutally murdered his mother in front of his eyes -- that's how, hatefully he was gazing down at me, which made a sick feeling spittle inside the pits of my stomach. I've made him angry, that can't be very good on my part, can it? 

As if answering the mental question, a sharp stinging pain fell upon my eye, and it didn't take me long to realize, my own fucking boyfriend, just hit me. It was a familiar feeling, but boy did it ache. As though my eye was going to slip out of it's socket from the numbness overcoming the delicate skin, my damaged, soon to be bruised eye remained shut, the stinging sensation only growing more painful once my finger made the slightest of contact with it, in an action filled with disbelief.

The tears from underneath the now swelling layer of membrane didn't help ease the pain, in fact, it only made things one million times worse. A whimper divulging, weakly, my knees fell onto the soft, carpeted flooring and my head hung low in defeat.

I was hoping, maybe, just maybe, this would snap Oli out of his drugged up daze, that he would come to his senses and realize he'd just done something his sober self would never even dream about doing. He would kneel himself beside me, pull me close, and repeat over and over again how sorry he was and that nothing like this would happen, ever again. But, unfortunately, no such luck came my way.

Instead, I got the opposite of what I'd hoped for. 

I got a beating.

---❀✿❁

:(((((
goal: 80 votes and 35 comments 

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