If Our Life Was a Movie - Thomas Sangster Fanfic

Y/N ☆ Chapter 2

WARNING: Physical abuse/violence

It's not unfamiliar to me that he's doing this. But did he have to do it in public? He really needs to work on the boyfriend thing.

"What the fuck was that? Does flirting with other guys give you some kind of satisfaction?" he spits.

"I wasn't- we were just talking. Honest," I explain, my voice becoming weaker as he towers over me.

He raises his voice as he tells me not to ever talk to other guys again. It wasn't the good kind of jealous; the kind where they care so much. He just wanted to trap me.

I look to my right, the side that wasn't against the wall, and see Dylan and Thomas looking over at me with concern.

Worry floods through me. They can't see this.

Thomas takes a step, as if he would come over to us, which he probably would.

But I quickly shake my head and mouth the words 'No.'

He takes a reluctant step back to Dylan.

I sigh in relief. If Thomas came over here, his face would be so broken that he wouldn't be able to audition. And I couldn't let that happen.

I feel a rough, calloused hand grab my cheek and turn it to face foreward.

"We're going home bitch," Jack says, his words just making it past his teeth. His jaw was clenched and his fists were balled.

I didnt say another word, just headed for the door, as there was nothing I could do. His hand met the small of my back and I flinched, but he didn't move it. He didn't want me escaping.

. . .

We're home! Yes! That was sarcastic. Because I know once I go through those doors, and he locks them, I'm not protected.

The outside world acted as a place where I was safe. But after today, even the subtle acts by Jack, I don't know if I really am. Home is the same as our there now. And i'm still scared.

We walk up the stairs to the second floor. That was where our apartment was.

We unlock the door, and he shoves me inside.

"You. Are. Mine!" he says, "I don't want you talking to ANY GUYS EVER AGAIN!!!" he screams.

We are lucky the walls are thick, or else everyone would know about Jack.

I nod and a small "okay," rolls off my lips.

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU! You pathetic cheating slut!!!" he yells strait at your face. Then he steps towards you, cornering you against a wall.

His anger was clearly visible on his features, features I used to think were attractive, now just alarming.

"I-I just...I have a job...I need to talk to-" but before I can finish, Jack raises his clenched fist and sends it plummeting towards me.

Faster than I can react, the blow meets your face right below your eye. Delivering a stinging pain, and the shock making my legs weak, and I fall to the ground.

"I-I'm s-so-sorry...p-please don't hurt me," I beg. But he just ignores me and begins to kick at me.

My legs and arms, even on my stomach. I cry out at every blow, occasionally letting out a quiet "please,"

At one point, a kick targeted at my ribs results in a sickening crack.

At this, my eyes open, as I scream for help.

I normally keep my eyes closed, to minimize tears. But now that there was no way to stop them, I hoped Jack would see them, and maybe stop.

But he didn't.

He doesn't stop. Until we are interrupted by a nock on the door.

Instantly, Jack grabs me by my cheeks and I flinch in pain, his grasp erupts in a burning sensation. But his hold only grows stronger.

"Don't make a sound! If you move or cry even just once...i'll fucking kill you!"

For a second I wanted to say, 'nothing could  worse than this. At least someone could help me,' But I wouldn't dare.

A tear rolls off my cheek and lands on his hand, he moves his hand in disgust, relieving a small amount of pain he was giving me.

"g-got it," I studded.

"good," he says harshly, and stands up to go to the door.

Jack groans before opening the door, "what do you want," he says.

"Um...does Y/N live here? I was hoping to talk to her about..."

Thomas

I recognized his accent anywhere. If only he could see me. Help me.

But I'd also rather have him not see me like this. Worthless, weak, submissive.

"She's not here. Fuck off," Jack says, slamming the door before Thomas could finish.

When Jack comes back into the kitchen, he looks down at me as if I was a piece of garbage.

I squint my eyes closed, but Jack doesn't come for me. He just pours himself a glass of hard liquor, and brings the bottle with him. Leaving me on the ground.

He would probably pass out on the couch. I would normally get up and sleep in the bed. But today was much worse, I could hardly move.

My rib especially aches with a sharp type of pain.

With the thought of him leaving for work early in the morning, I shrug off the pain in my stomach and I let sleep take over.