last resort | ryden

2

again, TRIGGER WARNING FOR WHOLE BOOK

Ryan POV

Everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.

Food was on the table.
The house was clean.
I was clean.
I could do this.
He would go after a few hours.
Don't mess this up Ryan.
i knew what to do.
it happened every day.

I heard the door slam.
He was here.
I set the cloth I was using to re-wipe the surfaces down neatly and headed into the hallway.
I was shaking.
Stop it.
He''ll notice.
He always notices.

I stood in front of him, eyes downcast, hands clasped behind my back to hide their trembling.
"Hey, Ryan."
answer him properly, he doesn't like it when you mumble.
"Hello Adam." I replied, stiffening slightly.

He tapped my chin twice and my head shot up, eyes level with his own.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Ryan. What have I told you about leaving your measly belongings around my flat? You don't pay the rent. Move it.," He snapped, pointing to my acoustic guitar and pic lying neatly in a corner.
I do in fact pay the rent. Your money just goes towards your next drink.
"S-Sorry."
"Don't say that. I know you don't mean it, you filthy little whore."
Tears stung my eyes but I wiped my eyes with my back turned and hurried to move my guitar.
"I'm s-sorry." I whispered pathetically.
Don't. Say. That. I know you-"
"I do mean it!" I snapped. My eyes widened.
"I'm- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it in t-that way, I'm s-so sorry-"
"Can't be that sorry if you said that to me," He snarled, striding towards me.

He contemplated something for a moment before shoving me into the coffee table, and therefore bringing me to my knees. A quick kick to the stomach had me down, and another kick to the face had him leaving. He caressed my face as he left, his fingertips like a trail of acid as he traced them down my face.

I can't do this anymore.
But I did.
I followed him into the bedroom, like he expected. Where he slapped me around the face and shoved me into the doorframe, holding my chin in place.

"I'll never hear that again, correct?" He growled at me.
I just nodded, knowing it would be worse later.

And it was.
He poured the water from the kettle over me and left me locked in the bedroom before leaving our apartment.

I wanted him to end my life, I realised.
This had gone on for about four years;
ever since I left Brendon.

I wish I had never left Brendon.
He probably had forgotten by now, but I hadn't.

I couldn't even remember why I had left.
Brendon.
And I realised that I still loved him all along.