right? - d. twins✔️

iv

i leave.

i grab my clothes from the dresser, my keys from the coffee table, my mind from the situation at hand, and i just leave. i hop in the range rover graciously gifted to me by the all mighty grayson after a very heated christmas, and i slam on the gas and out of the driveway, onto the open road of paris. paris, texas that is.

while driving, i begin crying. i'm leaving, i'm actually doing it, and it feels so damn good. fuck. i can breathe.

i scream.

scream so loud it seems to rattle the entire car. but i'm screaming because my sadness is over, my fear can be put to rest. focusing on the road ahead of me, i smile. but it doesn't last long.

i suddenly realize i'm not actually free. he'll find me, he always does, no matter what. he finds me mentally, physically, emotionally.
i'm trapped.

i slam my fist against the wheel, increasing speed with my frustration. how could i be so stupid? how can i be so damn blind?

fuck vivian, where's your damn head?

i ram the steering wheel to the right, and fly off the road, into a cloud of dust and disappoint and i realize what is ahead of me. i can see it now. he'll find me within a day, take me back home like nothing ever happened.

home.

i can't think of our house as home anymore. not after all that he's done to me in it. i could try and fight, telling the authorities that he beats me and some of it could be considered sexual assault, but there's no proof so what's the point? i sit on the side of the road, turning the car off. now, i'm only maybe ten miles from the house where i left him sleeping.

has he woken up? noticed that i'm gone, along with my car keys?

i can't risk it, i need to keep going.

i turn the car back on, and with the roar of the engine, i decide to go to the home place that feels now more like home.

dunkin donuts.

i walk in and the wave of coffee and glazed sugary goodness overtakes me. i smile, and stand a little taller as i walk to the counter. i grab the usual, a large glazed donut and a tall iced mocha.

i need to figure my shit out, what I'm going to do now that i've made this crazy ass decision. i got myself into all this and now i somehow need to get out.

ideas flood my head left and right as i'm starting to give up hope of anything rational, the doorbell rings, signaling an arrival.

i look up from my crumb covered table to see none other than ethan dolan.

my cheeks flush and my heart stops suddenly.
i smack the table for air, and as i do, he looks my way, and we lock eyes.

i'm fucked.

"vivian? what are you doing here without gray?" he asks me, and when he walks over, i avoid looking him in the eye.

why?

"oh, he was just tired, but you know me, busy, busy, busy." i try to play it off as he just sits across the table from, putting an arm behind his head, leaning back. no fucking way he was serious right now.

"tired, huh?" he raises a curious eyebrow.

"yeah, exhausted." i state, taking a nervous sip of my mocha.

"say, what happened there?" he asks with a nod of his chin.

"where?" i ask, almost choking in the process.

"your wrists, they're like, totally bruised." i look down and widen my eyes in horror.

my wrists have gone from a smooth creamy white to a beautiful shade of blue and purple. i shove my hands into my lap under the table and flip my hair from my face.

"i um, i put the handcuffs on a little too tight." i say smiling.

"yeah, looks that way." he gives a look as if he doesn't believe me, but keeps any opinions to himself. he notices that I'm finished with my donut and my cup is nearly empty.

"i better get going." i nervously get up, gathering my garbage to throw away.

"can't you stay and talk for a bit?" ethan eagerly gets up, looking me in the eyes. oh, how his gaze was so much more caring than grayson's. i wonder how it would feel to have his lips searching for the skin of my neck through my hair, how it would feel to have his hands grip my waist so tight that i couldn't move.