Tortured Love

        AN: Hello, this is our first story on Wattpad. We decided that we wanted to make an account to share our stories with you guys. This is written in third person point of view. We are just two teen girls so there will be mistakes. We hope you enjoy! Comment & vote.

                                                                                                         D & M. xx

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        He waited nervously, watching the clock as time seemed to speed instead of slow down. He kept checking my phone, to see if she texted him. She didn’t. He didn't know why he expected her to text him. He had screwed up, he knew that. He texted her a thousand times apologizing and asking her to forgive him. She was supposed to come over today, so they could talk about it. He was anxious to hear what she had to say. Would she yell? Cry? Hit him? He was expecting the worst. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have went to that party.’ He thought as he rubbed his sweaty hands against his jeans. He moved around on his bed trying to get comfortable. He heard the front door open from down stairs and his heart jumped in his throat. ‘Here she comes,’ his mind told him as he knew she would be headed straight for the stairs.

        She was angry. Terribly angry, also upset and sad. Disappointed. Her brain was flooded with emotion she couldn’t understand. Why had he done this to her? She stomped up the stair. When she got to the top she shoved the door open to his room.

        “How could you do this to me?” She said in an angry tone. She wasn't done, though,

        “Fucking dick. I loved you,” She said a few seconds later. She threw her phone at him and groaned. “Thirty-six messages. It’s stupid.” She sighed and collapsed on the bed beside him.

        He watched as she stormed into his room, slamming the door open. He didn't know what to say, so he didn’t speak at all. He listened as she ranted to him then threw her phone at him. Luckily, he caught it before she could cause any damage to him or the phone. She collapsed on his bed and he just stared at her. A few minutes of silence passed. He reached over slowly and started to rub her back.

        “I’m sorry,” He whispered.

        “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I never meant for that to happen.” He finished. He watched her and waited for a reaction.

        “Oh, fuck no,” She said and quickly turned over and pushed his hand away as soon as she felt him touching her body.

        “No, don't touch me.” She said and stood up again. He’d called her baby like he always did before. She scrunched her eyebrows together at the thought. That’s when the tears started coming. 63 days clean down the drain. Her butterfly that had lived so long, died.

        “How could you?” She said and covered her face with her hands after pulling her sleeves down to hide her blood stained wrist.

        He felt hurt that she moved away from him but he knew that he deserved it. She stood up, so he stood up too. She covered her face with her hands but not before she pulled down her sleeves. She didn't think he’d notice, but he did. He notice everything about her. The thought that she had relapsed again because of him made him feel more like shit. He tried to reach out to her again, he wanted her to understand.

        “Baby, please. You should know I wouldn’t do that. I was drunk! Piss drunk. I love you! We’ve been together for 5 years. Why would I mess that up?” He pleaded. He was desperate for her to understand and believe him. She was the love of his life. He couldn’t lose her. He already almost lost her once.