Bad Boy Bites

[eíkosi dyo][twenty-two]

"he was a weak man. 

the sort who needed 

to crush a woman

 in order to feel 

powerful" 

-john mark green

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He was there when I walked back over to my house. Sitting on the porch with his hands folded between his legs and his head hanging. His foot was shaking with adrenaline and power all at the same time.

When my footsteps were loud enough and I had stopped a few yards from him he had looked up. I waited as he raked his eyes all over my body, finding the smallest of faults.

It was dark, but the porch lights lit up his back so that I couldn't make out the details and instead could only see the darkness in his figure.

Nick stood up and turned around immediately without giving me a second glance. He walked straight into my house, using the key I had given him months ago. It took me a few seconds before I followed.

He went straight to my room, leaving a trail of cologne. His deadly silence set the fear straight in my stomach, and I started to wonder if I should've ran straight back to West and called the police. I should've. But I didn't.

And maybe it was the sudden courage I felt standing in front of him, proud of what I had just done. I was driven by love to fight back, and I didn't care to realize that I was always the weak link in the end.

He stopped in the middle of the room and ran his hands through his hair for a solid minute until he finally turned around to look at me again.

I pulled the skirt of my uniform down under his glare, but my cheeks didn't burn up in embarrassment.

"You fucked him." I moved my jaw in discomfort and crossed my arms before rubbing them, not speaking a single word. "After all the love I've proven to you, you go behind my back and betray me again. After I gave you a second chance." He shook his head and threw his arms around. "I give you nothing but love and affection and you treat me back with bullshit after bullshit after bullshit!" I flinched at his raised voice and trembled, tears burning my eyes with each step he took closer.

"Every time I punish you, you take it as cruelty and dig that damned hole even deeper!" I shook my head at his lies, telling myself repeatedly that I wasn't the problem, that I never betrayed him first.

Because I didn't. I wasn't the bullshit.

"You push me farther and farther-" Nick finally shoved first and I stumbled backwards. "-every time! When does it end Cassia?!"

"It ends now!" I finally screamed at him and shoved him hard enough for him to stumble back just like I had. "My bullshit ended a long time ago, Nick." I shook my head at him and breathed harshly. "But yours-" I struggled to find the words. "-it just keeps going on and on." I felt tears fall but I didn't wipe them away. "I'm so tired of it."

"Then let me take care of you." He reached out his hands for me.

"No." I slipped out of his reach and rubbed my arms. "You don't take care of me Nick, you put bruise after bruise after scratch after scratch on my skin." I looked up at his eyes. "When does it end! When there's no more space for a new scar?"

"Never, Cassia." He shook his head. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did!"

"That's not my fault."

"Then whose is? Because it damn as well isn't mine!" His nostrils flared and I watched as his fists clenched.

"Don't make me the bad guy."

"But you are, Nick." His jaw ticked before he finally laid it all out in front of him and hit me with his palm.

"Don't tell me what I am because you don't even want to accept your own identity." I rubbed my cheek and looked up at him again. "You're a slut. No good until I want a good fuck, and even then you're not a real competitor next to the others."

"Shut up!" I screamed with a rough shove. After a split second of receiving his glare he finally grabbed me by my hands, and when I twisted and wiggled to set myself free he grabbed onto my neck and tightened his grip until I could feel the pressure in my head.

"How does that feel, huh?" I grabbed and clawed at his hands, his arms. But he didn't mind the sting. "Suffocated by someone you love until all you feel is a build up waiting to explode?"

"I d-don't love you."

He released my throat but didn't give me a second to breathe before he lifted me up and threw me on the bed, giving me a hard kick in the side and grabbing something. Before realization hit me hard, he was already on top of me and peeling off my top.

"Stop! Nick, please don't do this!" I screamed until he stuffed a sock in my mouth and I gagged, about to spit it out before he ripped off some duct tape and slapped it over my mouth. When I tried to grab for it he caught my hands and held them above my head, glowering down hard at me.

"I've got to undo his work, don't I?"

And oddly enough, I didn't feel it in my heart where all started to grow numb and lose the feeling of ache. I only felt it on my flesh.

Surviving wasn't hard. But it was the worst kind of pain.

And when he was gone at midnight I sat curled up in a ball at the bottom of my shower, letting the water cleanse me of what I wished weren't true. It didn't help. I still felt invaded as if my own flesh wasn't even mine.

Like it was his.

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(this is a short filler)

:'(

PS HAPPY LATE TURKEY DAY TO ALL THE 'MERICANS