Imagines

Someone Somewhere - Danny Worsnop (personal imagine)

I was at home, making dinner while Danny was at the studio with the rest of the band.

I had scars from self harm on my hipbones and my lower stomach part that I made years ago when I was struggling with anorexia. I didn’t want anyone to notice them so I wore longer and tighter t-shirts.

When I was alone at home, I always wore a slightly oversized army print shirt that I took from my brother when I was still a kid and I was just in my underwear.

I had no pants on because it was hot in the kitchen and it was spring.

While cooking, Asking Alexandria was blasting through the living room speakers and I was dancing to it but then I heard a car pull over and a few moments later, a key unlocking the door.

"Hello! Where’s my little bitch?" a smooth, accented voice called from the door.

"In the kitchen, where I’m supposed to be!" I replied and giggled as I heard heavy footsteps coming closer.

"No, girl, you’re supposed to be in the bedroom with me" Danny suddenly found himself behind me as his arms wrapped around my waist, his fingers resting on my hips. I smiled when his lips met my neck and kissed it gently but it washed off when his hands ventured under my shirt, up my abdomen. I was scared he might discover my scars and it made me jump but I was too late.

"What are does?" he asked sternly and took hold of my shoulders, spinning me around so I could face him before he pulled my shirt up.

"Uhmm…" my hands were keeping me in place by resting on the counter and I looked down at my exposed stomach.

"Lucy, I’m only going to ask once. Why do you have scars on your body?" he was still holding the fabric of my shirt with the tip of his index finger and his head was still directed to it but his eyes were piercing my soul and I opened like a book.

"Danny, I’m so sorry!" I said and tried to reach for him but he moved back a step and growled.

"I was feeling terrible about myself when I was younger, I was suffering from eating disorders as well and I exercised a lot, too much to be honest."

My voice fell to a whisper “I was destroying my body bit by bit but I didn’t realise it until I was so depressed that I had to cut myself open…”

"You stupid cunt!" he shouted and I flinched "How could-? Why would-?" his beautiful, clear, green eyes filled with deep emerald rage and his arms flew in the air, grasping onto a porcelain bowl that was on the counter and flung it across the kitchen. The flowery bowl bursted into a million pieces with a sharp breaking sound when it kissed the marble floor of the dining room.

I screamed because it triggered a childhood memory I never wanted to hold on to.

"Why the fuck did you cut yourself? Why would you hurt yourself??"

"I had to!" I defended "I was a kid and I was scared! I was torn up and in pieces and guess what! You weren’t there yet, you fucking idiot! I had to find a coping mechanism, slicing my stomach and thighs made it easier!"

"Thighs?" he said in a sharp breath and held a defensive stand.

"Yes, Danny. Thighs too." a few tears folded in his eyes and my own felt hot.

"Where else have you cut?"

"Wrists…" I whispered "After a while it became fun and there was a joke in Biology, who’s brave enough to slide a razorblade across they’re wrist. They were laughing at each other, of course no one wanted to do it but when they looked at me, I took it and when it glided across my forearm, they all looked at me in horror, but I said it wasn’t sharp enough because it barely scratched me."