Wicked | Brendon Urie X Reader

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-I know I've probably put their name out a lot in this story so far, but I'd like to thank PanicAtTheFallOutSPN for liking my story as well as deannacat100. Really means a lot.-

-2-

I'm not a rule follower.

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            It seemed as if an hour had passed, but in reality it had only been a couple of minutes of you sobbing. You throw yourself up off of the ground, which resulted in a huge mistake when you hit the harsh marble of the counter, it clashing against your ribs, making your face wince up in a series of pain. The medical box with the blaring red plus on the top of it, still lies under the shattered part of the mirror that had been broken moments before. You lean across the counter and grab it, flipping the top open to reveal the contents. It's filled with bandages, gauze, hydrogen peroxide, a pair of scissors, alcohol, assortment of ointments, pills, you name it. 

            You slowly lift up your plain black T shirt that totally isn't yours considering it's a size too big, pulling it off and setting it down on the counter. As your eyes meet the broken mirror, you finally catch the view of the damage you really put on yourself. Your arms are littered in small yellowish, green bruises, though they are nothing compared to the dark purplish, black bruises along your ribcage and sternum. Your sides almost seem as if someone had dumped paint on you and it left a stain. And yes, it does hurt as much as it looks. 

         You bring a hand to your mouth instantly at the sight, letting out a choked sob. When your eyes meet your own, you're met with your (E/C) washed out with a red sea, face flustered and bruised as well, though not severely. Just a small purple spot on your cheekbone. Your (H/C) hair  is tossed in a mess, resembling a birds nest and it makes the whole frame of your face complete with the sense of being broken. 

        Shaking your head, you reach down into the box, grabbing out the gauze to wrap around your ribcage just so you could hide them away but also had a little pressure to them so when something else brushes against you, you won't tumble into any near by object. You do the same to your arms, the gaze just helping over all with keeping your body steady and compact in such a way that when you move, you aren't  screaming in pain. 

How could you let it come to this?

      Finishing covering yourself in gaze, you grab the oversized T shirt once again and throw it over your wounded body. You couldn't even look at yourself anymore and silently thanked that Brendon had shattered most of the mirror. 

         You made your way back to the door, unlocking it slowly with the sound of a click. Everything seemed silent when you swung it open slowly. Though there was Brendon, sitting on the bed with his face in his hands. Maybe he was thinking about what he had done or maybe he was thinking about what a mistake he made taking you was. Though it was clear when his head shot up at the sound of the lock. His eyes were now that soft brown again and laced with regret. How could he feel regret? He's a monster. 

"Darling-" he starts, but you quickly cut him off. 

"It's (Y/N). Call me (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)..." He says softly, as if he were surprised it came out of his mouth when he tested it, "darling, I'm not going to apologize for what I did. Because you were well deserving of that. So we don't have anymore of these... mishaps... I'm going to put down a few rules for you to follow and you are going to follow all of them or there will be consequences." He stands up as he says so, making his way over to your frozen body in the doorway.