𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 | 𝐟𝐢𝐧.

flinch

He stood in front of you, running his hands through his hair. The argument over almost nothing was stressing you both out.

"What is wrong with you?" He yelled at you, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He raised his hands and without thinking, you flinched.

He stopped dead in his tracks, gently reaching over to pull you into a hug.

"Why the hell did you flinch? Did you honestly think I was going to hit you?"

You cried in his arms, the memories of last week blurring your vision. He held onto you as he whispered how sorry he was. Suddenly, his demeanour changed.

"You wouldn't flinch. You know me, babe. Has someone hit you?"

The look in his eyes compelled you to tell him everything.

On a warm night, you decided to walk home from your part time job at the supermarket instead of catching the bus. As you were walking, you saw your ex. He smiled strangely at you and you ducked your head, trying to avoid any contact with him. He grabbed your arm, squeezing tightly. You tried to escape from his hold, yelling at him to let you go. He shoved you against the wall, slapping you on the cheek.

"You sl*t. How dare you go to him? Over me!" He slapped you over and over, sending a punch to your gut. You fell to the floor, crying in pain. He brought your face closer to him and squeezed until your jaw could've popped out. He suddenly let you go, smiling viciously at you.

"B**ch"

Your boyfriend froze as you finished your story, lifting up your shirt to show him the bruise.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was quiet and deep, it scared you to think of what was going through his mind.

"I didn't want you to get in trouble over me." 

He rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around you.

"I'll do anything for you, no matter what the consequences are." You smiled into his chest, pulling him closer to you.

The next week, your boyfriend decided to treat you to a nice dinner out in town. As you were walking home in his arms, your ex walked past. He glared at you two, snarling as your boyfriend pulled you closer to him. You smiled brightly, not because of the possessive action but because your ex was sporting fresh bruises and a nice cast.