Scar Tissue [2Doc]

//4//

I slowly open my eyes, only to be hit with bright beams of sun coming through the window. I groan and turn away from the window, bringing my blanket over my head.

Fucking hell... I'm having a terrible migraine.

Hangover.

"Ye finally awake, sweetheart?" Someone chuckles. 

I peak from under my blanket and find Murdoc sitting in the bed beside me, his shirt off, inhaling fumes from a cancer stick.

Oh fuck. 

Murdoc turns towards me and smiles, blowing toxic fumes in my face. I grimace and try to swat them away. 

"What the fuck mate," I say, turning my body back the other way, not wanting to see his gross green figure. "Fuck off." 

"Fuck off?" he scoffs. "Didn't seem that you wanted me to fuck off last night, D. Did you enjoy yourself?" he asks with a sly smile, whispering the last statement into my ear in a somewhat seductive way. I push his head away from me and quickly get out of bed to get away from him. 

My breathing seems heavy. I puff angrily as we stare at each other. He doesn't move his position from the bed.

"Ye ain't got any pants on," he suddenly states. 

I look down, a heatwave crossing my face. "Ye didn't even bother putting me boxers back on?!" I yell embarrassingly, quickly picking them off the floor and putting them on.

Murdoc shrugs. "Ye looked cuter without them on. I wanted to admire yer figure. I think ye've gotten skinnier, D."  

So, he's noticed. I roll my eyes. "...Whatever. Just get out of my apartment." 

I walk out of the room, not caring about hearing his respond. I walk to the kitchen, getting a pot of coffee ready. I hold my head tightly.

Ughh, it hurts really bad.

As quickly as I can, I make my way to the bathroom, opening the cabinet rustling through the many bottles of drugs and medication. Finally, I find my pain killers. I throw two into my mouth, swallowing them dry. It's a small pain as they slowly move down my esophagus without the help of water. I clutch the sides of the sink and drop my head, sighing deeply. I shut my eyes. Reality begins to set in. Fuck. What the fuck. I didn't really do it with Murdoc last night, did I?

Ah, fuck. 

I hold my hands in front of me and squint at them. They're slightly shaking, I'm still a bit high. I walk back to the kitchen. The pot of coffee is almost ready. Murdoc is already sitting at the kitchen island, staring at me. His gaze makes me uncomfortable.

I turn my back to him to retrieve the coffee. I get a mug and pour some, the steam wafting out from the mug. I take my drink and myself to the kitchen island, sitting across from Murdoc. 

"If ye want some, get up and pour it yourself," I say sharply. 

He rest his chin in his hand. "Well that's rather rude, ain' it." 

I glare at him, shooting daggers. He gets up to retrieve a mug of his own. I close my eyes and sip my coffee. I feel his steps walking back to me, then his presence in front of me again. I don't open my eyes, but rather admire the silence. Hopefully, he doesn't break it. 

"2D," he suddenly says. 

Fucking hell! It's as if he's reading my thoughts just to annoy me. 

"Shut up Murdoc. Just drink the coffee and get out." I can smell the cigarette smoke on him from here.  

"No, 2D, we need to talk. I noticed something last night and I-"

"Murdoc I told you to shut up, I'm drinking my fucking coffee. Yer lucky I haven't kicked yer sorry ass out!" I finally open my eyes, only to find Murdoc angerly reaching out for me. He yanks my arm up, making me drop my mug of coffee. The mug crashes to the ground, hot liquid pouring everywhere. The violent gesture reveals my bandaged cuts.

Goddammit. 

"D, what the fuck is this?" Murdoc questions with rage, perhaps a hint of sadness as well. 

I try to yank my hand away from his hard grip, but to no avail. Panic begins to set in. "It's none of yer buisness Murdoc! I just got a couple of scratches is all. Now let me go and get out of my fucking apartment." 

Murdoc observes my panicked expression then looks to my arm. "Please... Don't tell me yer cuttin' yerself again." His tone sounds sad. 

"I'm not!" I defend while still trying to get away from his grip. 

His anger deepens even more. He takes a hold of one of the bandages on my arm and yanks it up quickly. I yelp at the stinging pain of the sticky bandage lifting up my damaged skin. 

"Murdoc, what the fuck!" 

He stares at the deep wound on my forearm and doesn't look up to me, doesn't let go of my arm, but only clenches tighter and tighter. 

"Don't ye lie to me 2D. DON'T YE FUCKING LIE TO ME!"   

Murdoc raises his spare hand, almost threatening to hit me. I slightly widen my eyes. It's muscle memory for him. When he gets angry at me, he hits me.  

"Do it. Fucking do it, pussy! HIT ME!!" 

Murdoc's rage drops from his face in realization and let's go of his grip. This is when I pull away, rubbing my wrist from his hard grip. It's bruising a little already. I glare at him.   

"I... wasn't gonna hit ye," he says, realizing his mistake.  

The room falls silent. I glare at him, rage now forming inside of me.

"Murdoc. Get out." I huff. "We got drunk, we got high, and we had our one night stand. Now, I want you to get the fuck out." 

"But-"

"OUT!" 

Murdoc paces towards my room to pick up his belongings then begins to make his silent exit. I watch from the small kitchen as he opens the door to my apartment. He stands there for a couple of seconds, motionless, before he dares to say anything. 

He turns his head towards me. "This is far from over Stuart. We'll be talking later," he hisses. With that, he shuts the door behind him, rattling the painting on the wall.  

Once again, I'm alone in this apartment. I prefer it better this way. Just me and my silent pain. However, a new pain is now accompanying me this time. A pain in my lower back and bum. This pain isn't pleasurable... It's just annoying.   

[EDITED]